It's not what you thought 
When you first began it You got what you want You can hardly stand it though But I know It's not going to stop It's not going to stop 'Til you wise up
You're sure there's a cure 
And you have finally found it You think one drink Shrink into your underground Though living down But it's not going to stop It's not going to stop 'Til you wise up
Prepare a list for what you need 
Before you sign away the deed 'Cause it's not going to stop It's not going to stop It's not going to stop 'Til you wise up
No it' not going to stop 
So just give up
Wise Up 
Aimee Mann Magnolia Soundtrack

Monday 

11:30 p.m. 
The day had come. He'd promised himself again and again that when he finally reached the point of no return, he'd give in. Happiness had always been fleeting, a barren pleasure that touched him quickly, then left him with a feeling of resentment akin to betrayal.
He always figured that when all you felt was numb, when nothing had meaning, life was done. Despite his understanding of this, he'd kept on, hoping for more than had ever been given. He'd often ignored his feelings, promising himself that there was hope, that sooner or late something good, meaningful, 
had to happen. After all, he'd paid his dues. He'd always thought so, anyway. 
He was sick of it all. Sick of trying, of caring, when nothing was truly given in return. You could only give for so long. Reciprocation was expected by many as a matter of course, but he'd never been given the luxary of expectation. The barren feelings, the constant pressure, the urge to just give in. He was goddamned sick of fighting his urges. For once, he'd take what he wanted. Even if all he really wanted anymore was a surcease to the pain, a nothingness to eclipse everything else. For once, what he wanted was within his reach. The time was now.

Two weeks earlier 
Humming a little tune under his breath, Xander walked the streets of Sunnydale aimlessly. The night was bright, the breeze in the air carried the scent of freshly-cut lawns, of flowers blooming, and his thoughts were his own. It was nice. Pure. Vampires themselves would be scared to ruin such perfection.
Thoughts also turned fanciful. Xander snorted to himself. Vampires corrupted perfection. They were drawn to purity, but only for the sole purpose of defilement. Just because he was in a more poetic, introspective mood than normal was no reason to let his guard down. He truly hoped no bad guys came out of the woodwork tonight, because he'd never felt less like fighting.
He'd needed to get out for awhile. His little basement apartment, while granting a slight feeling of maturity, did little else. Just the basics, not much in the way of amusements of any kind. He'd had a TV/VCR combo, but that had been hocked just last week to pay the rent. A bitter smile flashed across his face, quickly gone. He didn't have much left to sell.
He'd just lost his third job in as many months. Considering the positions of said jobs, an accomplishment indeed. Xander figured only a true idiot could manage something like that. He hadn't even received a check for the last one. When you worked at a gas station as a grunt-level clerk, and money went missing on your shift, the boss was never exactly inclined to dole out funds.
His parents had been less than sympathetic regarding his money troubles. The bottom line was pay up or get the fuck out. His father had told him, at top volume, that if he expected a free ride he was in for a serious disappointment. Of course, being his life and his family, he'd gotten a few bruises along the way. He'd expected nothing less.
With no other options available, he'd started selling off what little he'd earned. In truth, he didn't much care anymore. Just material things, small amusements that had really ceased to be amusing awhile ago.
Xander sighed. He really should be at home, searching the paper for a new job. He just couldn't really see the point. Lately, nothing seemed to be worth the trouble. Ennui had been gripping him hard for the past few weeks, and expending that much energy was just too much of a fucking hassle.
Turning the corner, he entered the park looking for the first available bench. Everywhere around him were couples, friends and lovers talking together, laughing together. He spotted an available seat, and collapsed bonelessly.
Xander shook his head slightly. Needed to stop thinking of the things that were bad, concentrate on the good.
He could do that. Well, he had friends. They weren't around very much anymore, and he didn't feel very comfortable around them, but he did have some. Willow. He had Willow. Willow had always loved, or at least liked, him quite a bit. God knows he loved her.
Of course, he'd managed to fuck up that friendship pretty good. Kissing his best friend wasn't what one could call a smart choice. Since then conversations had been awkward. The best part about Willow had always been just how easy and effortless it had been to be around her. Someone he'd been comfortable enough with to just be himself. Just for her, the mask had been taken off. The jester could be relegated to the sidelines.
He'd had lovers. None that had really wanted to stay around very long, true, but he'd had them. Most had also tried to kill him at some point, but he considered that his own bad judgement. He had Anya. Orgasm friend to the stars. If he needed to get off with little or no emotional attachment, by god he did have that. And maybe there *were* times that he wanted an actual relationship, but dreaming was for suckers.
Xander gave a little self-deprecating snort. Talk about a pity party. Fucking pathetic. With practically a visible effort, he turned his thoughts to his blessings again. His father would get a fucking charge out of his behavior tonight, that's for sure.
Okay. He had friends. He *did*. He was alive, and young. That had to count for something. No job prospects, except for the most menial kind, but that was his own choice. Lack of money prohibited it and, to tell the truth, school had never been easy. He had no desire for higher education.
He also had...Spike. Xander finally grinned. If anyone had told him that he'd have an undead vampire for a blessing a few months ago, he'd have asked them to seek psychiatric help. Ever since he'd gained himself a roommate, the lonliness had been held at bay. Coming home had been a pleasure, not just somewhere to go after work was over. He'd been against it at first, but somehow the bad jokes, poor taste, and general companionship had won him over.
The smile slowly faded. Except.... 
He wasn't very comfortable around Spike anymore. He'd started feeling *something* around him. Itchy. Lustful. Very much like how he felt around Willow, before The Kiss. Before one of his biggest mistakes ever.
Well. Spike never had to know. Xander knew how to get the most out of crumbs offered. He wasn't willing to risk a tentative friendship for a feeling. He knew better.
Xander looked around the park. It was very late. He'd been wrapped up in his self-pity for hours, it seemed. With a sigh, he got up and headed for home.

Monday 

11:00 p.m. 
Finally. His day at the movie store was over. As new jobs went, he figured it wasn't too bad. It had been a long fucking day though. He'd had a hard time waiting for work to be over. He had Spike to look forward to.
In the last few weeks, Spike had become his addiction, his weakness. The one part of his day he anticipated, waited for. Xander allowed himself a small smile. Tonight was the night.
He'd promised himself that he'd be happy with friendship. Love was for fools and morons. He'd wanted to believe that, had tried so hard to. But Spike had interfered with his plans. The smile grew wider. Spike had kissed him yesterday. Up and kissed him. And hope wasn't far behind. Spike had made the first move, had nuzzled him and told him that he had feelings for Xander. For *him*!
No sex yet, but Xander wanted to. He had the feeling that he might be in love. Maybe, for once, he could make love instead of having sex. Oh yes. Tonight was definitely the night. Hopefully Spike wouldn't object....Xander almost laughed out loud. The time was now.
He couldn't ever remember feeling so joyful, so euphoric. He felt like he was walking on air.
Opening the door, he looked around the small apartment. 
"Spike, where are you?" 
Huh. He must still be out. Maybe he left a note.... 
Xander looked on the table. Spotting a slip of paper, he picked it up and started reading. He whitened, almost buckling. Clutching his stomach, he reread the short note.
Xander, 
I can't stay. There are things I need to do. 
I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line. Thanks for sharing the apartment. Maybe I'll see you around.
Good luck, 
Spike
Slowly, the slip of paper fluttered to the ground. 
He'd wanted to believe so badly....he was pathetic. Spike hadn't felt anything for him. Maybe pity. A few tears made their way down Xander's face, regardless of how hard he tried to keep them in.
Slowly making his way to the bed, he collapsed. The floodgates opened, and a few tears became a veritable flood. That'd teach him. Love was for suckers. And he was the biggest one of all.
Getting up, Xander made his way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Slowly, as though in a trance, he removed a bottle of tranquilizers. A sniffling laugh escaped him. He knew these would come in handy. He'd gotten a prescription of them to help him sleep, but it looked they had a better use.
A grim smile slowly formed. Soon nothing would hurt anymore. 

Monday Night 

11:45 p.m. 
The door to Xander's apartment opened. 
"Xan, I left my jacket. I promise I'll be out of your way in just a second....."
Spike looked around. Where the hell was Xander? Maybe he was ignoring him. 
Spike wouldn't blame him. It was for the best, though. He was the last thing Xander needed. He should just grab his jacket and go. 
He could say goodbye, though. He needed to say goodbye. 
Spike looked around, walking as he yelled. 
"Xan, come on! I just wanna bloody talk to you for one second....." 
Spike trailed off. Xander lay on the bathroom floor, deathly white. He was breathing shallowly, and Spike could hear his blood. It was sluggish.
"Oh fuck. Xan, c'mon Xan, don't do this to me!" Spike didn't feel the tears coursing down his cheeks. He ran to the phone, dialed 911. Made the call, and raced back into the bathroom. Kneeling on the floor, he picked Xander's upper body up from the floor, hugging it close to him.
Kissing Xander's cool, blue lips, he started up a litany. 
"Xan, please hold on, they'll be here soon, please don't leave me....." 


Part Two

Oh, for the sake of momentum
I"ve allowed my fears to get larger than life
And it's brought me to my current agendum
Whereupon I deny fulfillment has yet to arrive

And I know life is getting shorter
I can't bring myself to set the scene
Even when it's approaching torture
I've got my routine

Oh, for the sake of momentum
Even though I agree with that stuff about seizing the day
But I hate to think of effort expended
All those minutes and days and hours I have frittered away

And I know life is getting shorter
I can't bring myself to set the scene
Even when it's approaching torture
I've got my routine

But I can't confess the doubts I have
I can't admit that maybe the past was bad
And so, for the sake of momentum
I'm condemning the future to death so it can match the past

Momentum
Aimee Mann
Magnolia Soundtrack




Spike collapsed bonelessly into one of the numerous hospital waiting chairs. 
As soon as he sat down, he was back up again, pacing nervously. Up and 
down the hallway, unable to sit still and *wait*. No one was around to take 
his mind of the interminable minutes that seemed neverending.

Going outside was out of the question, as well. He'd sat in this fucking 
hospital straight through to daybreak. If he left, he was a crispy critter.

The situation could be worse, he knew. Xander wasn't dead. He'd had his 
stomach pumped, and he was hanging on. Unfortunately for Spike's state of 
mind, his pet hadn't woken up yet. He wouldn't, *couldn't* relax until he'd 
seen for himself just how Xander really was. Emotionally as well as 
physically.

Xander's parents had already been and gone, having stopped by only to sign 
the requisite papers. They did stay just long enough, however, to inform 
the hospital that they weren't responsible for the bill. Xander could pay 
off his own debts.

Hearing that, Spike had been hard-pressed not to kill them right there and 
then. He wasn't quite up to the task, though. The bloody chip in his head 
fucked up everything. Oh well. It was probably for the best. He just 
didn't have the time to kill them properly, the way they *deserved* to be 
killed.

He needed to be here for Xander if....no *when* he woke up. Already he'd 
called Buffy and Willow at the college. No answer, but he'd left a message 
on their answering machine. Now he could only hope they'd hurry up and get 
here. Right now, Xander needed all the help he could get.

Hell, *he* needed all the help he could get. Spike knew he was seriously 
out of his depth. What the fuck did he know about comforting? An even 
better question, why did he *want* to comfort Xander, to kiss all his 
fucking boo-boo's and make everything all right? He was William the Bloody, 
for Christ's sake! Killer of innocents and an all-around bad guy. This was 
not something he'd anticipated or even wanted. If it were up to him, he'd 
still be a self-absorbed, bloodthirsty vampire, killing whoever struck his 
fancy. Now, though, he had an enormous chink in his armor. One that was 
sleeping a few doors down the hall. Shit. Caring sucked. People sucked.

Spike let out an aggrieved sigh. Xander didn't suck, unfortunately. If 
Spike were really, *really* honest with himself, Xander was the closest 
he'd had to a friend in longer than he could remember. Probably since 
Angel. Dru didn't count, as much as he adored her. In the past he'd been 
her support, her lover, and her partner-in-crime. Rarely had he been her 
friend. He'd been in love with her, but she'd only loved him when it was 
convenient. Hard to be friends with someone who didn't want to be around 
you half the time.

Spike snorted ruefully. He'd finally gotten tired of doing the chasing, so 
now Dru was off having fun on her own. As she seemed to prefer it.

Angel. No, scratch that. Angelus. Angelus had been his friend, had in 
fact been the best kind for him. An evil, bloodsucking fiend like himself. 
How perfect was that? The things they'd done....

Spike's smile slowly faded. Then, of course, Angelus had become Angel. The 
vampire with a soul. Fucking hilarious. Almost as funny as a vampire that 
couldn't bite.

And that had been the end of that. Angel didn't want him killed, but that 
was as far as it went. The childe of Angelus was on his own. Sire or no, 
Angel didn't have the mentality, or the brutality, Spike knew, to be his 
anything anymore.

Funny thing though. If the truth be told, he'd rather have Xander for a 
friend over Angelus any day. How that bloody little whelp had managed to 
get under his skin, he'd never know. The only thing possible for him now 
was damage control.

He'd tried, too. Leaving Xander would have been the best thing for both of 
them. Why in the bloody blazes couldn't Xander *see* that? He could go 
back to being his normal, uncaring self and Xander could have found someone 
a hell of a lot more appropriate. Someone who deserved him, someone 
untainted by the blood of hundreds of innocents.

"Fuck that!" Spike muttered to himself, still pacing furiously. He wasn't 
*tainted*, for God's sake. He was a vampire, just following his nature. 
Yep. That's what he was. No need to be ashamed of it at this late date.

Xander did deserve someone better, though. The kiss had cinched it. Anyone 
who tasted that sweet, that right, wasn't meant for the damned. He'd tasted 
like....strawberries. Clean and biting as well as sweet. Intoxicating. 
He'd been so trusting, opening up for Spike like he belonged to him.

It had been tempting, too. So tempting to just keep going, to kiss and suck 
that pretty neck, to ravish until Xander surrendered. Until his pet let him 
have everything, and belonged to him and him alone. His to fuck and suck 
and own and....shit. He'd always been too possessive; Dru'd taught him 
that.

Xander didn't belong to him, though. The sooner Spike managed to get that 
through his thick skull, the better of he'd be.

Now all he had to do was make sure his pet was okay. Maybe a week or two, 
tops, and he was outta here. Then he and Xander could both get on with their 
lives.

Spike glanced up at the clock and practically did a double-take. He'd been 
immersed in his thoughts for nearly an hour! What the hell was taking so 
long?! There was practically a groove worn in the floor.

"That bloody nurse better get her arse out here soon, or....."

Fuck waiting. Enough of this shit. He was going in to see Xander *now*. 
He was worried, and he'd waited long enough.
********

TBC