Sequel to Everlasting Love
Damned With You
But with any other beat I got left in my heart
You know I’d rather be damned with you
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned
Dancing through the night with you
~ Meat Loaf Bat Out of Hell
Spike let himself into his, no, their, apartment. The door swung shut on its own behind him, the sound of it shutting echoing oddly through the empty rooms. He fought the urge to scream, to break everything in sight.
This had been his home for the past two months. He could still remember sitting on one end of the couch and wondering what was going on in his then friend’s head as Xander laughed and then asked him if he liked the human. The bed that they shared was just in the other room, and he could still smell the scent of their release from the night before.
He knew that if he looked in the bathroom there’d still be two damp towels on the floor, and the coffee was still on in the kitchen because Xander never remembered to turn it off. Xander’s latest project, a coffee table, sat in one corner of the living room, tarps laid down on the floor to protect it.
Everything in the apartment was just waiting for Xander to come back, down to the fact that his lover had set the VCR to tape something during the day.
But Xander wasn’t coming back.
Every time he thought about what he'd been told he wanted to growl. Xander had survived hell gods, demon mayors, even Angelus hating the boy with a passion. Spike had even tried to kill his boy once or twice but hadn’t been able to. But one idiot on site had gotten drunk and lit a cigarette near a gas line.
In a way, Xander was lucky. He had been far enough away from the blast to escape being engulfed in the fireball. But the debris from the blast had knocked Xander to the ground, and even his hard hat couldn’t protect him when a wall collapsed on top of him.
Even if by some miracle he survived, Xander would be permanently paralyzed. Right now, though, he had ventilators and all sorts of machinery doing all his body’s work for him.
Spike hated it with a passion. Hated that it was torturing his boy, keeping him alive and in pain.
Buffy and Willow were both furious that he’d left Xander’s side. They didn’t know, didn’t understand. Tara and Dawn were the ones to distract the other two women to let him quickly slip out of the ICU ward and down the stairs once the sun had gone down.
It had been Tara that he’d called to take him to the hospital in the first place that afternoon before the sun went down. Now that it was May the days were longer and the sun more powerful. If it hadn’t been for her, he doubted he would have gotten to see how badly his Xander had been hurt before the sun had set.
Spike stalked to the kitchen and pulled out a lock box from one of the cabinets about the refrigerator. This was what held all of Xander’s important papers, including his living will. They hadn’t been in their relationship a full week when his lover had sat down with cards and paperwork from his company and asking to see Spike’s fake ID’s.
At the time Spike had hated it. He resented taking time away from sex and cuddling in the bed to talk about things he hated to think about. He knew very well just how fragile humans were; he’d tortured and killed enough of them to know their breaking point.
But thinking that someday Xander’s luck would run out, or that one morning he’d wake up and realize that Xander had streaks of gray in his hair, had been a terrible thing to do instead of naked fun.
Now, though, he was glad that Xander had put his foot down. His lover had a stubborn streak a mile wide and had insisted. Said that Giles had known where to find the information and then Anya. Now it was Spike’s turn.
He leaned against the bar in between the kitchen and the living room and opened the box slowly. There were several papers, insurance, lease agreements, car information and the like. But on the very top were two manila envelops, one labeled “In The Event of My Death”, and the other “In The Event That I’m Injured and Can’t Speak for Myself.”
Spike growled low in his throat just seeing them, and had to fight his true face. He wanted to go out, kill things, howl with grief. But he couldn’t. He had promised the man he loved and he wouldn’t break that promise now.
No matter how much it was killing him to do so.
He opened the second envelope, figuring he’d read that was first since technically Xander was still alive. There were letters for all of his friends, even his ex in LA and Anya and Giles in London. Surprisingly, Buffy and Tara’s were the thickest. He would have thought it would be his, or Red’s.
He opened the one that said 'Spike' in Xander’s half-printed, half-cursive script. He just about fell to the floor in grief when he remembered the hell that he had gone through one night when Xander sent him shopping. He hadn’t been able to read half the list and had finally just gone home with beer, pizza and chocolate, and then growled in frustration at the laughing human.
The thought that he would never hear that laugh again ripped a hole in his chest, right where his heart would beat if it still worked.
His hands shook as he tore open the envelope, and pulled the page inside of it out to read.
If you’re reading this, well, I guess my ticket is just about up. I counted on the fact that you wouldn’t jump the gun and pull this envelope out unless it was really bad. I only hope you and the girls are still around. That’s why I couldn’t trust something like this to Willow. She might be my oldest friend but she’d panic. I know I can trust you with this, no matter what might be happening when you read it.
First of all, the reason why I bugged you about your ID’s and fake Green Card was simple. You, my love, are the recipient of my life insurance. Anya had this thing about insurance after Joyce’s death and I had to agree. If something ever happened to me I want the people I loved taken care of.
This includes an extra policy for Accidental Death and Dismemberment. Let’s face it, being a Scoobie makes it more likely that I’m gonna lose a body piece or two. One hundred thousand dollars, Spike. I know you're thinking you don’t care right now but you’re going to, so just keep your calm and listen to what I’m about to say.
The reason why I’m telling you this is so you know how important it is that I’m declared legally dead, in a hospital preferably. There can’t be any doubt on the authorities' part.
We haven’t talked about this, I thought we’d have time. But I knew there were only so many disasters I could escape before I finally got hurt seriously; it’s just a law of averages and numbers.
God, this is hard to write. A month ago I would have never even thought about it. See how much you’ve changed me, Blondie? You’ve made me a better person. And I love you. I’m sitting here writing this while you’re sulking that we’re not playing hide the salami and I even love the sound of your pouting.
I know, you’re the Big Bad. You don’t pout. Whatever.
The thing is, Spike, that we haven’t had enough time to talk about our future. Long range goals and stuff like that. You know, if we want to stay in an apartment or get a house with a big gothic fence for our pet demon dog that tries to eat the mailman.
But if I’m hurt, like not coming out of a coma hurt or something like that, and you know I’m going to die, be it later that day or a week or even a year from whenever, I want you to turn me, Spike.
That is, if you want me.
I don’t want to be all grrr and try to take over the world. I trust you, Spike, to keep that from happening. Ideally, Tara can do a spell that lets me keep my soul. I love Wills but considering her recent track record with magic it has to be Tara. And that’s also why I want to make sure there isn’t any question I’m dead. You’ll get my insurance money and we can invest it and never have to worry about working or buying blood and smokes.
But we haven’t talked yet about if, well, if you want me around for the next century or two. If you don’t, hey, that’s okay. Just…make sure I’m not in any pain, okay? Put me out of my misery.
Okay, enough of the depressing crap. If you decide to turn me, give the guys these envelopes here. I’ve explained my wish that you turn me in great detail to Buffy, so she won’t think you’re just doing it for your own jollies. Even had it notarized and everything. The same with the others. Tara’s has my plea to stick my soul on straight if she can.
And to give us a couple days running time if she can’t.
Guess I’ll see what you decide in a while. Make sure it’s what you want, I have.
Spike wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to laugh. He was so weak with relief and remorse all at once he nearly fell to the floor again. He had a second chance, a chance to take care of Xander. Bring him over and train him, keep him forever. Xander would make a beautiful Childe, dark and wickedly smart, even if he had a soul.
But still it tore at him that he’d never get to have a warm Xander come in from a long day of work, all tired and sweaty and smelling of sunshine. And even if he had the soul he’d be touched by the demon, by the darkness. How that would change his lover, he didn’t know.
He had been almost afraid to think of it.
Spike snorted. Who was he kidding? He had been willing to take up with a human that was his total opposite morally. Had changed his hunting patterns, even after the chip had worn out. He’d take Xander any way he could get him. He had loved his boy when Xander was warm and full of goodness.
And he would love his Childe, even though he’d be cold and in the darkness.
Spike gathered up the envelopes and reached for the phone. For this to work he’d need a few things set up. Clem had a van he could borrow and could get a hold of the keys to one of the mortuaries. That would be where he’d arrange to have Xander’s body sent. He didn’t want his Childe to have to claw his way through wood and concrete and dirt.
He’d also need a large supply of blood and somewhere quiet to take his Childe once he woke up. A newly risen vampire’s senses could be confusing, and between that and the hunger that every fledge awakens with, Xander might go a bit peculiar, even if he had his soul.
As he dialed the first in a long line of numbers he needed to call, he found himself hoping that Glinda could stick Xander’s soul back. He’d gotten rather fond of it.
Spike fought the urge to pace and sat near the edge of the bed where the dead body of his lover lay. The last three days had been terrible, and he was exhausted. He wouldn’t be able to rest really, though, until he made sure Xander was okay, that Xander was Xander.
He’d gone back to the hospital that first night after making his phone calls. He’d returned to many tears and wailing coming from Red. Seemed that while he was gone Xander had some sort of episode and his prognosis was worse. Of course, both Buffy and Willow had turned their anger onto him.
Their anger had turned almost violent and the head nurse had called security and had the two women taken away. They didn’t even read the letters Spike had given them, they had just started screaming and shouting when Spike had talked to the doctor about getting Xander off all of those damned machines. Part of him kind of wished he'd had the time to smirk at them but, despite the fact that he knew Xander was coming back to him, Spike was still mourning the death of his lover in a way.
The letter had helped the Nibblet, though. After Buffy and Willow had been escorted out and Spike was inside one of the rooms fending off questions about organ donation, he’d heard her intake of breath and her happy babble before Glinda shushed her.
Tara had been the backbone of the group, obviously upset but keeping her cool and helping everyone do what needed to be done. Spike knew he could trust her and after he had been done with proving he had Xander’s living will and all the proper papers had been signed she had smiled at him and nodded.
Later, after the machines were turned off and both Tara and Dawn had gone in to say “goodbye”, Spike strove to remember everything he could about his own turning. The feel of Dru’s lips on his throat, the sweet taste of her blood as it ran over his tongue.
Of course, a hundred years ago they didn’t have bloody human vultures, wanting to pick the best of Xander’s bits and pieces out of him. He banged his head on a wall and sighed. Ordinarily Xander would have been an organ donor, he wanted to help people even with his death. And theoretically fledges could survived the autopsy and embalming process; it just made them a bit more…hungry when they woke up.
But Spike didn’t want to deal with all that, he wanted Xander as he was now, as whole as he could be with his broken bones and head injuries. As it was it would take him a day or two longer to rise as the demon healed the body it was taking possession of.
Now, watching his lover’s still form he only hoped he had done everything right. He’d fed Xander so much of his own blood he had nearly passed out, and he’d been thankful that Tara had insisted she watch because it was her hands that made sure his Xander swallowed the viscous fluid.
Dawn had taken the lock picking talents he’d taught her the year before and had broken into the blood bank. Even now Spike had to laugh at the look on her face. It was what Xander had called her “shit eating grin” and she had been so proud that her petty larceny had been able to help both Spike and Xander.
Not long after that Tara had left, taking Dawn with her. Spike was left to make arrangements through the hospital and the mortuary. Fortunately, one was owned and operated by a pack of ghouls. They were demons that lived off fresh human organs but hated to kill.
They were more than happy to help a Master Vampire, and had delivered Xander straight from the hospital morgue to the small cabin outside town that Clem had arranged and stocked for them. They would in turn bury a coffin filled with sacks of concrete, but Spike was waiting till a week after Xander’s “death” for that.
His lover had an odd enough sense of humor to want to go himself.
The cabin was nice, not as rustic as Spike had feared when Clem had suggested it. He’d pictured one room with dirt floors and a fireplace. The fireplace was there in the big living room, but it had hardwood flooring, a deluxe bathroom and kitchen and a bedroom. It had been owned by the former Mayor of Sunnydale and even had access to the sewer network through the root cellar.
A perfect place for Spike and his new Childe. The place even had a satellite dish. He was using it off the record for now, but figured that they’d buy the place as soon as they could. Tara had already been by the day before to place protection wards around the house. She’d also done the spell to give Xander back his soul.
Now all Spike had to do was wait.
He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen. The cabin had been fitted with shutters and he’d left them all closed so it was safe to walk through the rooms even though the sun still had a half hour to set. Spike hoped that Xander would wake once it got dark and he remembered all too well the hunger that would consume his lover. He made sure to heat and drink bag after bag of blood before going back to Xander.
He wanted to be ready to take care of his Childe.
Author's Note: I just want to say that I'm all for organ donation. It's a good way to help people...but not if you want your lover to come back from the dead with all his bits. Just saying.
Spike had almost given up hope that Xander would wake up that night when suddenly the body on the bed shuddered. Xander’s eyes popped open but Spike could tell he was still unable to focus and he drew a breath that was now unneeded and nearly choked on it.
Spike moved behind his Childe quickly, propping him up against his chest. Xander was nude, and Spike only had on a pair of jeans so he was able to comfort his Childe skin to skin.
“Shh…it’s okay, Xander. Calm down, pet. I’m here, it’s Spike. You’re safe…calm down.” He kept up his litany of reassuring noises until Xander sagged in his arms and relaxed. All the while he let his hands pet and touch Xander, just trying to quiet, to connect to his Childe.
“S—Spike?” Xander’s voice was harsh from where it hadn’t been used. He was in what was now his true face and Spike traced a finger over the smooth ridges of his forehead. Golden eyes glittered in the dim light of the room and his fangs were prominent.
Even as a vampire, his lover was beautiful.
“Yeah, Xan, I’m here. Take your time; do you remember what happened?”
“No…not really. I feel awfully weird, Spike, and I’m hungry. Why is it so bright in here? What’s wrong with me?”
Spike held him tight for a moment before pulling Xander around to look at him. “There was…an accident. Someone on the site was drunk and set off a spark near a gas line. A lot of your mates on site died, luv, and a wall collapsed on you. You were hurt really bad, paralyzed from the neck down. Later on you had a blood clot that caused a heart attack or something. You were really bad off, Xan, and I found your papers…”
A look of pain crossed Xander’s face at the mention of his friends' deaths and Spike knew that Xander was pretty much still Xander. Spike watched as the realization really sank in. Surprisingly, a smile crossed his face, at odds with the deadly fangs.
“You turned me! I mean, it’s bad that I was hurt because I wasn’t expecting it and, really, when would you? But you turned me! I was afraid you wouldn’t want me. I mean, we’ve only been together a little while and I kinda read books about how much of a commitment it is to make a Childe…I am your Childe, right, I mean I’m not your minion am I? Not that that would be bad but I’d rather be your Childe and...oh! Do I have a soul or do we have to run? I bet Buffy is more than pissed. Do I have to call Angel Grandsire now? And…”
About the second sentence into his babble Spike’s jaw had dropped. He’d expected remorse for his death…Xander being upset at his vampiric condition, not a seeming unending stream of babble accompanied by an enthusiastic look.
The stress of the past few days caught up with Spike because he found himself chuckling at the Xander-ness of it all, at the mention of Angelus being told that Spike had a Childe and finding out it was Xander, and he let out a bellow of laughter.
Xander looked at him curiously and the sight of his Childe with that look on his face made Spike lose it completely. He laughed till his sides were sore and then caught Xander up in a tight hug, kissing him all over his face.
“M’so glad it’s you, Xan. I was so worried becoming a demon would change you but that was pure Xanderbabble, no doubt about it. Love you, Xan, so very much.”
His Childe curled up in his arms and hugged him back. “Love you too, Sire. That is right, to call you Sire?”
“Sire, Spike; as worried as I was you, would probably get away with calling me a big girl’s blouse. Either Spike or Sire is good, Xander, s’not like I’m going to train you like Angelus trained me. Glinda gave you your soul so we won’t be going on a killing spree, more's the pity. I gave you plenty of my blood so yes, you are my Childe, and you’ve got all your marbles. Was worried about that, it’s not like the Aurelius line is chock full of sanity so I was a might concerned.”
Xander laughed. “I would say I kinda left being sane behind about the same time I invited a certain bleached menace into my bed. And it’s not like I was normal even before that. Thanks for making me a true Childe of yours, Sire, I’ll try to make you proud.”
Xander looked up and gave Spike a teasing look. “And speaking of blood -- and here’s where the eww moment will come in -- I’m hungry.”
Spike had to chuckle at the whine at the end of Xander’s statement. “Well then, let’s get you fed. Be glad I love you, Childe, you’ll get nothing but Sire’s blood for a bit and we’ve got human in the fridge. If I didn’t love you, you’d be stuck drinking that pig’s crap the Watcher forced on me all those years.”
He tugged and pulled at Xander until they were back to their original position, Xander in between Spike’s legs with his back to Spike’s chest. Spike held up his arm to Xander. “Now don’t tear, just gently…bite down. You’re stronger than you’re used to being, don’t want to go at my arm like one of those drumsticks from KFC. Think of it like biting into a plum; you don’t want to make the skin rip and the blood spray all over. Well, not now. Might be fun to play like that some other time. Go on…bite, Childe.”
Xander flicked an uncertain look at him before gently biting down on Spike’s arm. Instinct took over and he used his lips to seal around the wound so not one drop of blood would be lost and Spike made an approving rumbling sound in his chest. The feel of his Childe feeding from him was erotic and he felt himself harden even as his human face fell away.
Xander soon brought his arm up to hold Spike’s to his mouth, almost afraid of having it taken away, and the young vampire make all sorts of happy slurping noises. He wiggled and leaned onto Spike and he could scent their combined arousal in the air.
Spike knew he should probably stop Xander, since most Sires were afraid of their Childer being too strong, but instead he let his lover drink his fill. He used his other arm to pet at Xander, encouraging him, keeping his touch above the waist for now.
Finally Xander slowed down and Spike could tell he was drinking just for pleasure now. Childer and minions lived for a taste of their Maker and after being turned minions would be lucky to get more than a drop or two and only when they had performed outstanding work for their Master.
Childer got more of a taste but not much more unless they were being rewarded or hurt. As a fledge he’d always gotten in trouble or found himself in Angelus’s bad graces and hadn’t had as much of a taste as most other Childer.
Xander was going to end up being spoiled, he just knew it. Still, Spike couldn’t deny the exciting feel of having his lover nurse from him. He couldn’t wait till Xander had the control to feed from the neck; it would be mind blowing.
Xander pulled away and Spike waited to see what he would do. He used his tongue to lave at the wound, making sure it was sealed before kissing at it. Spike ran his fingers through Xander’s hair and his Childe’s first purr broke out.
“Good job, luv, you did it right your first time. Even made sure the bite was healed. Right proud of you.”
Xander snuggled into his hold, his voice sounding odd as he tried to talk and purr at the same time. “You taste good, Spike…better than prime rib and chocolate all at once.”
Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “First time I sank my fangs into you I halfway expected to have a mouthful of chocolate syrup instead of blood, the way you eat the stuff.”
He let his hands roam lower and brushed Xander’s erection before going further down to rub at his lover’s thigh. Xander gave a pleased growling sound and Spike found himself rumbling in his chest in answer to it.
“Can we get to the wild sex part of the night now, Sire? Or are we going to tease each other while sounding like tigers baiting each other? And how weird is it that our sex life has now become an episode of Wild Kingdom?”
Spike nipped at Xander’s ear, earning him a yelp. “Hate to tell you this, pet, but even as a human you made some awfully weird sounds. No matter, though, that’s what good sex is all about, being all loud and messy.”
Xander’s laughter was deep as he turned in Spike’s arms. “Mmmm…let’s see just how messy we can be, Spike.”
Spike spent the next few minutes relearning his lover’s body. Tracing his fingers over the new planes of Xander’s face, feeling how solid and strong he was now. The muscles that had been built up due to his outdoor work enhanced by his new status as a demon. It thrilled Spike to know that he didn’t have to hold back his own strength. This was no human lover, this was his Childe, who was more than strong enough now to take all that Spike could give him and beg for more.
He did miss the feeling of heat that Xander used to radiate. The boy had been as hot as a furnace. But fuck, they could always get a heating blanket if they wanted warmth; he had Xander in his arms, moving and wriggling and begging for him.
A sharp pain broke Spike out of his lust. Xander had raked his new fangs on either side of one of his nipples, causing him to bleed, and was licking him, circling his nipple. He let out a half groan, half laugh. “Fuck, Xan, that’s so good.”
Spike rolled them so their positions were reversed and he was straddling his lover’s hips. He leaned down to capture Xander lips in a kiss, their fangs cutting small nicks for them to lap at and soothe.
He kept kissing Xander as he reached for the bedside table. He’d stashed some lube in one of the drawers in there…somewhere. He just had a hard time finding it, what with a squirming Childe underneath him. He finally grabbed it just as Xander bit his tongue. The sharp sudden pain only served to make him harder and he swore as he crushed the tube of lube and it broke.
Xander laughed but, before he could say anything, Spike captured his lips again. He didn’t need his smart mouthed Childe making one of his trademark comments.
He moved down from Xander’s lips, stopping to nip at the junction of his shoulders and continuing all the way down to his navel. Spike stopped and gave his lover a wicked grin before sinking his fangs into the flesh in between his belly button and groin.
Xander groaned and opened his legs wide and Spike moved so that he was cradled in between them. He scooped up some lube from the broken tube and started preparing his lover. There was no way he was going to be like Angelus and take a new Childe raw, even if Xander was a demon now.
He was going to do right by his Childe, no matter what.
In just a few minutes, Xander was rocking back on the fingers in his entrance and gasping as Spike bent down to tongue his nipples and fisted his cock with his free hand. Finally, Spike took hold of his own cock and thrust in and Xander gave a strangled moan. Xander put his legs over Spike’s shoulders and grabbed the sides of the bed. Spike knew he didn’t have to be quite as careful as he had been when Xander was human, though, and started pounding into his lover as hard as he could.
Xander writhed underneath him, and through the rushing in his ears Spike heard a litany of “Fucks!” and “Sires!” that made him go faster, feel harder than he’d ever been in his unlife.
“Fucking hell, you’re so good, Xan, so fucking tight. Could do this for hours now, luv; keep both of us on the edge for days, neither one of us coming until we fuck our brains out. Would ya like that, pet?”
“Fuck no! I want to come, Spike!!” Xander growled out. After a particularly hard stroke against his prostate, he whimpered. “Please, Sire? Make me come?”
Spike grinned evilly. It was time to show his new Childe just how flexible he was. He took hold of Xander’s legs and bent them closer to his head till he was nearly folded in two. “Hold on to these, Xan, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Xander’s eyes were wide and he seemed to have lost all coherent thought but he did as he was told. Spike held onto his thighs for leverage as he pounded in with every bit of speed and strength he had, making sure to hit Xander’s prostate as often as possible.
His lover was clenching around him and Xander was tight and good and he was family and Spike let loose one of his hands to bite into it and offered it to Xander. “Feed, Childe.”
Xander didn’t hesitate, but took the wrist into his mouth and sucked on it for all he was worth. It was the thought of what that mouth would feel like on his cock that took Spike over the edge and he growled as he came. As the aftershocks of his orgasm flowed through him, he felt and heard Xander reach his completion as he lost his grip and his legs flailed in the air for a moment before falling to the bed.
But that was okay, because it made it easier for Spike to crawl up Xander’s body. His Childe instinctively turned his neck and Spike sank his fangs in deep. Xander tasted like family and love and lust and just the richness of it all nearly had him hard all over again. Xander was still suckling at the wound on his wrist, making happy snuffling noises that made him sound like a little pig.
He chuckled at that thought and broke away from Xander, removing his wrist from his mouth and his fangs from his neck. He hadn’t been lying earlier; he could keep them there all day in an unending cycle of feeding and fucking.
Maybe later. Right now he knew he had to call Glinda and let her know everything had gone okay. Plus there was the added time bomb of Red and the Slayer to defuse, and he knew that Buffy had called Giles about the funeral, at the very least. Tara had warned him of that. And he had to present his Childe to the Master of his line, never mind that he was a nancy-boy who thrived in guilt.
“Love you, Spike, so glad you wanted to keep me. No one ever wanted to keep me before.”
That semi-sleepy statement from the man in his arms made him feel like melting. All of those other problems would be dealt with later. Right now, he had a Childe to coddle.
“I’ll always want you, Xan. You know me. Once I find someone to love, it takes more than heaven and hell to make me let go.”
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