Title: Smell of Home Part 8
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com
Homepage: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Author: Velvet Crypt
Disclaimer: Joss is God. I own nothing.
Spoilers: Around season 4 or 5
Summary: The ending.
Dedication: Hmmm…how
about for everyone who reviewed, in a panic, that I was going to kill Xander
off or permanently maim him?
Xander knew the second that the
‘tingle’ found Spike. He felt it touch, latch on and begin seeping through
Spike’s body. It was a strange feeling, to be in someone else’s body. He felt
the vampire’s flesh surround him. He felt the burn of blood through Spike’s
body, the rage that ebbed and flowed through every nuance of the vampire.
~I belong to you, only you. ~ He
whispered with his mind, trailing mental fingers through Spike’s being. ~Please
take me. Please accept me. ~ He felt Spike’s answer in the joy that burst
through the vampire. That joy swirled around Xander’s perceptions and
tentatively sought its way back through their connection. Xander ‘saw’ the joy,
the acceptance barreling toward him through the link.
He wondered if Spike would be
angry to know that he slightly resembled an overeager puppy at that point. Then
the return request for claiming hit him full force back in the stomach and he
could feel Spike sifting through him as he had done to the vampire. ~Yes! ~ He
screamed in his mind. ~Oh, please yes. ~
He was momentarily called from his
union with his mate as his body gave way under the Ghrestian’s fists. He
couldn’t tell exactly what had happened, but he knew that it was bad. He felt
his body shutting down. The link fluttered and he sadly thought that he may not
live to see his mate again. He simply didn’t have the strength to last until he
was rescued.
A warm pulse of strength shot down
the bond, followed with a tender brush of power filled with affection and
promise. He could almost hear Spike telling him to use the energy, to take it
and hold on until Spike could reach him. He gratefully accepted the warmth and
then receded back into his body and to the pounding fists of an infuriated
demon.
________________________________________________________________________
“Why?” B’Thaaug bellowed, swinging
a clawed arm and knocking Xander to the side. “Why isn’t the claim working?
I’ve said the ritual. I’ve exchanged the blood. He should belong to me!” He
slapped Xander one more time in frustration, hating that bemused smile that
still managed to dwell on the infuriating human’s face. “Why won’t you break,
you little bastard?” he screamed. “Why won’t you be mine?”
“That’s probably because he
belongs to me, mate,” Spike drawled. He attempted to right himself from
in-between Buffy and K’eivan.
B’Thaaug snarled and stepped
forward. “This is your doing? How?” he demanded. “How did you claim him? There
is no mark!”
Buffy removed her hands from
around Spike and allowed him to stand on his own. She could see the strength
retuning to him, more every second. She twirled her sword in her hands and
shrugged. “I see you don’t have a mark either,” she called calmly. “Let me take
care of that.”
As one, Buffy and Spike moved
forward. Buffy whirled through the air, her sword whistling like a ban sidhe.
Spike went with the more demonic method and slipped into game face. Of course,
he also wanted the Ghrestian’s blood so badly that he couldn’t remember Buffy
had brought weapons, much less that she’d already bestowed one on him.
They worked in tandem, the slayer
and the vampire. Buffy went for the legs, putting the huge demon into a merry
little dance for which he had no time to defend against Spike’s full frontal
assault on his throat. The vampire went after the soft spot under B’Thaaug’s
chin. He paid no mind to the angry furrows the demon raked down his back.
While Spike and Buffy were
occupied with B’Thaaug, the other demons moved into action. The Rwasundi
floated into the room, glanced about and headed straight for its brethren. The
three cloaked time warpers began to weave their hands and the air around them
turned psychedelic with swirled colors and flashes of images. Soon, they were
lost in a whirlpool of color.
The larger, angrier and battle
primed demons took to the floor, cleaving and chopping anything that moved.
Giles picked up the battle-axe
that Spike dropped and stepped into the fray, swinging wildly to clear the area
in front of Willow and Tara. The girls held each other’s hands and chanted
softly. K’eivan was in a quandary. He wanted to get in on the fight. It was
what he had been brought for. However, though the humans were doing fine, they
were the weakest and he felt a strange obligation to protect them.
And so, he hovered near the girls,
picking off demons as they came too close. Out of the corner of his eye, he
spotted the Shur-hod. The human shaped demon slunk along the perimeter of the
room, avoiding the fighting and avoiding any eye contact. He caught K’eivan
watching him and his eyes widened. Like a shot, he bolted from the room.
K’eivan’s jaw clenched. “You
little conniving, traitorous bastard,” he snarled as he took off in pursuit. As
he moved away from the humans, the Pockla and Mivka took his place. They were
slightly less effective, but the clump of bodies working together caused enough
hesitation in the enemy that they managed.
Nearby, B’Thaaug lashed out with a
powerful leg, catching Buffy in the gut. She flew across the room, coming to
rest against the legs of the Vahrall demon. He calmly bent down and hefted her
up by the shirtfront and placed her on her feet. She nodded warily in thanks
and turned back to the fight. Only to find there was nothing left to fight.
Spike watched Buffy sail over the
floor and he lost the final inhibition. What did it matter if the Scoobies
thought he was a monster? If they saw him as a cold-blooded killer? If Xander
died, if any of them died, his stupid fears would mean nothing anyway. With a
roar reverberating in his ears, Spike shoved his fist through the Ghrestian’s
chest.
The larger demon halted, staring
down at the vampire’s arm sticking out of his chest. He glanced back up into
the face of a madman and had a moment’s pause. That moment cost him. Spike took
the opportunity to slam his other fist into the demon’s chest. A gurgle of
sound was the Ghrestian’s only indication of disagreement.
Baring his teeth in an enraged
roar, Spike closed his hands and jerked. The last thing the Ghrestian saw
before hitting the ground was William the Bloody holding the Ghrestian’s own
spine up in victory. As B’Thaaug rolled to a stop, Spike stepped forward and
raised his knee. The vampire slammed the boot of his beloved Doc into the
demon’s skull, grinning in bloodlust at the sharp crack emitting from the
shattered bone.
Spike turned to face the rest of
the room. He was a vision of death; soaked in blood and other bits of demon
flesh, wildly swinging the spine of his enemy over his head. Most of the demons
that supported B’Thaaug broke off engagement with Spike’s people and bolted for
the door. Those that couldn’t, or weren’t allowed to, came to a swift death
under the other demon’s weapons, teeth and claws.
As the last of B’Thaaug’s
supporters died, Spike flung the severed spine to the floor and raced to his
mate’s side. Buffy eyed the room, looking for ‘their side’. She spotted the
Drokken and the Vahrall immediately. Another moment and she caught sight of the
Mohra demon dispatching something green and tentacled in the corner. The
Rwasundi had disappeared. Since it took its brothers with it, Buffy didn’t
really care.
“Um, hey,” she called. The eye of
every demon in the room, save Spike, was on her. “Yeah, you all helped us
today. I won’t forget that,” she said wearily. “So…just go. You’ve earned your
get-out-of-jail-free card for this week. But if I catch you fucking around in
Sunnydale again, all bets are off,” she warned. Upon nods, the Drokken, Mohra
and Vahrall disappeared out the door.
As they left, K’eivan stumbled in.
Bruised and bloody, he none-the-less had a huge smile on his face. “I found the
traitor,” he grinned at Buffy. “And I kicked his ass.” Buffy couldn’t stop the
giggle. Another second and she was laughing so hard she dropped to her knees,
clutching her stomach.
Spike gently cut the ropes holding
his mate and eased him to the ground. If it weren’t for the bond drawing him to
this man, he might not have known it was even Xander. The gaping raw holes in
his face were filled with blood seeping in from other cuts on his face. His
chest was a mass of bruises and claw marks. His wrists were snapped and Spike
wasn’t quite sure how Xander was still even awake.
The dark haired boy coughed and
blood foamed up at the corner of his mouth. Spike bit back a cry of horror.
“Hold still, love,” he whispered instead. “Just keep still. We’ll fix you up
right as rain.”
Xander smiled, baring reddened
teeth. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I’m so sorry.”
Spike shushed him again, dropping
kisses on the bloody mess of his boy’s forehead. “Nothing to be sorry about,
love.”
Xander tried to shake his head,
then gave up. “I ran right into the danger you were trying to keep me from,” he
managed. “I fucked up again. I put you all in danger.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah, cause a
Master Vampire can’t find enough danger on his own,” he tried for humor and
knew that it failed miserably. “Love, you had every right to yell at me. I’m
too overprotective.”
Xander let out a choked sob. “I
don’t know about that,” he laughed painfully. “Looking at the mess I got myself
into this time, I’m thinking that maybe I do need a keeper. Maybe I do need to
be watched every second.”
Spike kissed his forehead, his
cheeks; next to the yawning holes where Xander’s beautiful eyes had been. “I
only watch you, love, because I can’t take my eyes off you,” he whispered.
Xander tried to move away and
decided that it just wasn’t worth the pain. “Yeah, kind of a freak show now,
huh?”
Spike stroked Xander’s cheek. “You
are not a freak, Xander Harris. I think you’re beautiful. And I can’t stop
looking at you because I love you. Looking at you makes me happy.”
Xander turned sightless eye
sockets up to the vampire. “You love me?”
“Xander,” Spike said softly,
“You’re my mate, my consort. You can feel how much I love you.”
Xander held motionless for a long
moment, feeling the love wend its way down the link and hold his heart close.
He smiled. “I love you too, Spike.”
The two men just held each other,
knowing that any given moment could be their last together.
“Not to intrude, but I may be able
to help you.” Spike looked up to see the Pockla demon standing over them.
“How?” the vampire asked.
“My race,” the demon bowed. “We are
healers of a sort. We regenerate flesh. If you would allow me to try?”
Spike nodded almost frantically
and the Pockla stepped forward. “Please hold your mate, William the Bloody.
This will be nearly as painful as the original removal of his eyes.” Spike
folded Xander into his embrace and held him. As Xander’s screams once again
echoed through the room, the others turned in horror. “K’eivan!” snapped the Pockla. “Come, help William the Bloody
hold his mate still. The pain is too much and if the boy moves, the
regeneration will not be successful.”
K’eivan loped over to the trio and
flung himself onto Xander’s legs, pinning the boy to the ground. Tara and
Willow stood nearby, wrapped in each other’s arms, tears racing down their
cheeks. Buffy eased closer to Giles but said to hell with subtlety as Xander’s
voice cracked in agony. She wiggled her fingers into her Watcher’s hand and
allowed him to draw her into the circle of his embrace.
Nearly five minutes later, the
Pockla raised it’s hands and moved back. Hardly daring to hope, Spike looked
down at his mate. Xander’s eyelids were no longer sunken in. As he watched,
they fluttered open and Spike saw the once more whole, totally beautiful eyes
of his mate. He reached down and touched Xander’s chest. The marks were gone;
the crushed areas where ribs had shattered were whole again.
Spike unashamedly wept. Xander
looked up at his mate in wonder. “Spike?” he breathed, carefully holding out a
hand to touch the vampire’s cheek. He attempted to say more, but was cut off as
Spike’s lips closed over his own. He remembered the feeling of Spike’s lips on
his from days ago. He knew then that they worked magic on him, that they pulled
his rational thought asunder.
This was better. The softness of
Spike’s lips contrasted with the death grip he had on Xander’s arms, afraid if
he let go, the boy might disappear again. Spike’s tongue flittered about
Xander’s lower lip, begging for entrance. When granted, it mapped Xander’s
mouth and Xander’s tongue welcomed it like a long lost friend. The bond swirled
slowly in and out of them, first in Xander, then in Spike.
By the time Spike let him up for
air, he could no longer tell which piece originated in whom. The warmth flooded
his soul and echoed throughout Spike’s body back to him. Spike cupped Xander’s
face reverently. “I love you, Xan,” he said breathlessly.
Xander nodded with a smile. “I
love you too, Spike.”
Spike lifted his eyes to thank the
Pockla for returning his boy to him, and couldn’t find him. He glance around in
confusion and his eyes came to a rest on K’eivan. The Brachen shook his head.
“He left. I’m going to head out myself. I’ll catch up with him and tell him
thanks for you.”
Spike nodded and went back to
staring into Xander’s eyes. K’eivan smiled indulgently and hugged Willow and
Tara goodbye. He shook hands with Buffy and Giles and tossed them a jaunty wave
as he exited.
“Spike?” Willow asked quietly.
Spike started and looked up at
her. His face lit up and he held out an arm. She smiled, tears beginning again,
and flung herself to the ground, embracing both men. “So, Xander,” she laughed
through her tears. “You decide if you’re gay yet?”
Xander grinned up at the vampire
holding him so gently. “Nah,” he drawled. “No gayness here. I think I’ve just
got a bad case of Spike-lovin.”
The vampire grinned back. “And
there’s no way in seven bloody hells you’re getting rid of it, luv.”
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