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Dedicated to sunryse00
Summary: Xander's broken and spike...cares?
Rating: M (eventually)
Pairing: Spike/Xander, and a little of Xander/Anya
Genre: Angst/Drama



Part One

Spike POV

He’s not laughing. Why isn’t he laughing? Why do I even care?
The laughter is, for the most part, aimed at me. I shouldn’t want the ridicule and the humiliation, the hurt that slices through me like a blade, threatening to break my cold unfeeling mask.
But I want to see him smile, that dazzling smile that tugs at my dead heartstrings.
He’s the only reason I have left to go on. I’ve been around forever, done everything imaginable and more. Now all I want is to see my nummy smile and joke, covering up the harsh reality with innocent laughter.
But he’s not smiling.


He looks my way before I have a chance to feign ignorance. A brief glimpse at the emotions laid bare behind his eyes and I have to fight back the prickling tears that threaten to fall.
He’s broken.
There’s no mirth or joy, just torment and pain. And longing?
I bet Anya had something to do with this. If she hurt him in any way I’ll bloody whack some sense into her.
When the hell did I start to care about whether the whelp was happy or not? It’s not like we’re friends or something. I don’t even like him at all.
Why do I sound like I’m trying to convince myself?
But he hates me, of that I am certain.


I sit there brooding (although I’d never admit it out loud) for a while longer until he gets up. I start, wondering where he’s off to and why the scoobies are letting him go outside alone at night. It’s practically a death wish!
They hardly even notice he’s gone although I’m sure they’ll realise when they discover that their daily supply of doughnuts isn’t there.
Very calmly I sit down, eyes jerking every 5 seconds to the door.
He’s not coming back.
There’s no reason for him to come back.
He can handle himself.
He got home all right.
He didn’t get attacked.
He didn’t get surrounded by a mob of vampires and beaten to a pulp before they all took it in turns to bite down and…
I didn’t get to finish the thought before I sprinted out the door, ignoring the questioning glances of the scoobies. Running frantically through the eerily empty streets of Sunnydale I follow his scent; that bloody intoxicating scent of cocoa and spices.
It leads me towards one of Sunnydale’s main cemeteries. I can smell blood.

Part Two

Xander POV

Today was the final straw. I turned up at work and was there for roughly an hour before I got told to go home, permanently.

When I arrived home I thought Anya would be understanding and that maybe she could cheer me up a little. I had no idea how wrong I was. I told her what happened and she lost it completely. Ranting at me, she screamed about how she’s sick of the basement and “how much longer are we going to have to live here now?”, and my personal favourite of all “we hardly ever have sex anymore, do you not find me attractive?” Sometimes I love that she’s so blunt and sometimes I hate it. Today was neither. I just stood there while she showered me in verbal abuse. I just felt… nothing.

I couldn’t think of one of my trademark jokes, and I didn’t know what to do to make Anya relax… I didn’t even feel like making her calm down. I was numb.

I saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her tiny fists bruising my ribs, her face contorted in anger and frustration.

After what seemed like ages, she stopped and glared at me, trying to find something, I don’t know what she was looking for but she must have seen it because then she turned around and slouched outside, slamming the door behind her.

I stood there for a while, contemplating whether I should go after her and tell her sweet lies, hold her limber form to my chest and kiss away her tears.

Turning around I headed to the shower.

Stripping, I stepped under the jet of water, hardly even noticing that it was freezing cold. Leaning my head against the wall of the shower cubicle I closed my eyes hoping that when I opened them everything would go back to the way it used to be. When I was young and life was simple and happy. A time when my family cared and smiled and I was loved.

I opened my eyes and saw the bathroom tiles in front of me.

Grunting slightly, the only sound I’d made since I’d told Anya about being fired, I switched off the shower and stepped out, grabbing the towel nearest to me. I stood in front of the bathroom door, my hand outstretched, a little pool of water forming around my feet. Sighing slightly I opened the door and stepped out into the empty room. Stepping further into the room I noticed that the wardrobe doors were open and that all of Anya’s belongings were gone. There was a note on the bed, but I ignored it and just stood staring at the empty spot where her clothes used to hang. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, making no sound and not moving at all. Just waiting for night to fall and to head to Giles’s house for the daily Scooby meeting.

So now I’m sitting here staring blankly at the book in front of me. My hands are turning the pages and my eyes are looking at the sentences but the words aren’t registering in my mind.

Buffy and Willow laugh as Giles attempts to get the ‘stupid box’ to work. Their laughter seems distant to me, like an echo or a fading memory, reminding me of times that were. I feel like I don’t belong here. I may have done so at one point but I don’t belong here anymore. They’ve grown and developed as humans and I feel like I’m at the begging again, like I’m going round in circles and it’ll never stop.

There’s a niggling feeling in the back of my brain that I’m being watched. Turning around I see Spike staring at me before he quickly snaps his head around and pretends that he wasn’t looking. I can’t be bothered to care about what the annoying vampire is up to.

Willow’s gone back to researching now, her nose almost touching the pages of the book as if she thinks that if she looks close enough, she’ll find all the answers to… everything. I know there are no answers. People have been searching since the beginning of time, I’d have thought they’d have realised now that they’re not going to find anything.

Buffy is trying to research but she keeps looking amusedly at Giles, who is attempting to search for something on Google.

I get up, I’ve had enough.

No one stops me; they don’t ask where I’m going. They just nod in my direction and mutter a ‘see ya’.

I wonder where I should go now. I could go home but I don’t really feel like it, I don’t feel like going anywhere. I just wish I could feel anything.

Realisation dawns; I’m in the cemetery. There’s a growl behind me.

Was that a hint of fear?

Part Three

Xander gazed dimly at the vampire grasping his shirt in a bloody fist.

Is that my blood?

The vampire was so close that he could smell its foul breath ghosting across his neck. His broken arms hung limply at his sides, pain coursing through every fiber of his being. His vision was dimming; the vampire was fading slowly out of view. One blink; two blinks; black.


As Spike entered the graveyard he saw Xander surrounded by three vampires. Frozen, he watched as one of them grabbed Xander’s shirt, hauling him off the ground and towards his face. Spike let out an almost unearthly growl as he raged forwards, taking the vampires by surprise. In what seemed like ages, he ripped, bit, and mauled the vampires to ashes, stopping for nothing or no one.

Turning round, he rushed to Xander’s side; surveying the damage; ignoring the bloodlust burning beneath his skin; his demon aching for chaos.


That’s got to be the first time he’s said the boy’s real name out loud. No insults or snide remarks, just his name, plain and simple. But it’s not simple; it’s never simple, when the person you love is fading away in your arms, the person that doesn’t know you love them.

He’s going to make sure he will. He won’t let him die, not like this, not now.

“Come on Xan,” he shakes him furiously, but oh so gently, “please, wake up.”

When he got no reply…

How it hurt to see Xander like this. Where there was once a goofy grin, there were blood smeared lips. Where there was once an innocent happy boy, there lay a broken man. It hurt Spike to see him like this.

…He picked the larger man up carefully, and hoisted him onto his shoulders. Keeping a tight grip of the body on top of him, he started a swift jog to Giles’s place. He hoped they were still there. If he had to go and look for them…it might be too late.

T. B. C.

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