A Road Covered With Blood
Aug. 4th, 2007 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Xander/Spike
Rating: NC-17 overall
A/N: X-posted todarker_spike for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.
A/N II: I want to say thank you to everyone who has commented on this story. I really do appreciate each and every comment. They definitely keep me motivated!
Xander shuffled, squinting, out into the hallway. He waited, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He thought grumpily that Cordelia had better be dying for this interruption to be worth it, then instantly felt guilty.
Once again, the carpenter scores, he groaned inwardly. After all, she’s only had her life and her brain turned upside down by these visions. But let’s ignore that in favor of finally getting close to Spike.
“Repeat after me,” Xander muttered. “My dick does not defeat evil.”
A rusty chuckle echoed hollowly from the bedroom. Xander blushed slightly, as he realized that once again he’d been speaking out loud. Obviously, this needed to stop. He’d gotten used to talking to himself since he spent the majority of his time alone.
Xander frowned. He didn’t spend all his time alone. Between work and the Scoobies, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone. But, he distinctly remembered long days and nights of solitude with only his own voice for company.
Xander moved back into the bedroom, kneeling down in front of Spike. He dropped his head onto Spike’s lap, unsure if he was seeking solace or offering it. Things were getting crazy and the only thing he was completely one hundred percent about was Spike.
He just sat there, silent and calm. Finally, he felt Spike’s hand fall lightly on his head. The touch, soft and almost reluctant, was a benediction. Here in the dark, with no words to confuse their thoughts or mangle their memories, Xander believed that he and this strange vampire could reach a state of grace.
“You came back,” Spike whispered.
“I’ll always come back for you,” Xander answered and even in the jumble of his memories, this was true.
He’d hated this demon, mocked his pain, and attacked him. But he’d never abandoned him, never refused his presence.
“I think I’ve always been here,” he said to Spike quietly.
Spike didn’t say anything and strangely, that was okay. It was enough that they were here, in the dark, together. Xander wondered if the power of the wish rested in demons that didn’t go in for vengeance. He thought it must, because this was his wish; just sitting back and breathing, letting the world pass them by while they rested.
A large form blocked the light, throwing shadow over his face. Xander knew he should look up, but he didn’t. He just sat there, finally calm and at peace.
“Xander,” and the voice was familiar and caring. “Xander, it’s okay.”
Xander didn’t respond. He knew it was okay. It was dark and cool and Spike was touching him.
“Wes,” the voice called out, soft and unhurried, “I think I’m gonna need some help here. Get Cordy and tell her to bring the potion.”
Xander felt like those words should be important. Somewhere in his brain, a voice sussurated and burbled about potions being important. He just breathed, drawing the drugging scents of whiskey and smoke deeper inside his lungs.
“Xander, I need you to listen to me,” and a finger tugged at his chin, trying to pull his face away from Spike. “You’re sick. Cordy’s bringing medicine and you have to take it in order to get better.”
Xander resisted the finger, pulling himself back towards Spike. Every inch away from Spike was another piece of himself lost. The finger released his chin and Xander sighed, sliding back to his original position.
Another voice, soft and indistinct, crept into his ears. He stopped listening, focusing instead on the slow steady rustle of Spike’s fingers carding through his hair. Spike was breathing, another slow steady sound that filled Xander’s body. He clung desperately to those sounds, that touch, to keep from disintegrating.
“Xander,” another voice, just as familiar. “Spike is sick. He can’t get well unless he drinks this. Will you help me? I need you to drink this or Spike will die.”
Xander instantly opened his mouth. Spike had to live. Spike had to stay and keep Xander from breaking apart. A bitter taste flooded Xander’s mouth and he recoiled slightly, but continued to drink. Spike. This was for Spike.
As soon as the noxious fluid hit his stomach, the world snapped back into place. Xander looked up to see Cordelia’s face, anxious and pinched, inches away from him. He smiled at her and she rocked back on her heels, returning his smile.
“Better?” she asked him.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “That was weird, even by Hellmouth standards. What the hell?”
“Come on.” Cordy stood and held out a hand. “I’ll tell you downstairs.”
Xander looked up at Spike, and said, “Give me a minute.”
He wasn’t sure if he could explain, but apparently he didn’t have to because Cordy just left, taking Angel and Wesley with her. Xander’s eyes never left Spike, and he tried to think of what to say.
“So,” he began, “think this could get any more fucked up?”
Spike nodded wordlessly, not meeting Xander’s gaze. Xander stood, running a hand through his hair. His own touch seemed coarser now in comparison with the gentle, almost reverent, fingers that had kept him anchored to the world.
“ I remember now,” Xander tried again. “Everything from before, all the ugliness and stupidity. And I remember how it’s changed…changing.”
Spike nodded again, and Xander leaned over, a hand on Spike’s shoulder. This man, who in another reality had loomed so large, now seemed fragile. Xander knew that the wrong word would shatter Spike, maybe irrevocably.
He put his lips to Spike’s forehead and whispered, “Thank you.”
Spike jerked away, head snapping back. His eyes, large and disbelieving, filled Xander’s vision. Xander knew that old memories are sometimes the most painful. Hell, he had a head full of them himself.
“You were the only thing that kept me from fracturing,” Xander told him earnestly. “Your touch, your scent, it was all that stood between me and whatever it was that gave us that little side trip to crazy. Thank you.”
Spike smiled at him, and it was a heartbreaking smile. Xander inhaled sharply, trying to ease the lead that invaded his chest. He might have had a less than sane moment, but it had been beautiful. His entire world had shrunk to the feel of Spike’s skin and the sound of Spike’s breath. He’d never been so totally involved in another being like that, and he wanted it again.
Xander was determined not to screw this up. This whole damn trip had been about fixing mistakes, not making new ones. He smiled back, and cupped his hand around Spike’s head. A last kiss and nobody would deny him that, right?
He ghosted his lips over Spike’s and tasted salt. He let go, and looked down. A shimmering droplet clung to those full lips, and he realized his face was wet.
“Xander…” Spike held out a hand but Xander could only shake his head.
“Thank you,” he said again. “It was…it was…I never thought I’d feel like that.”
Xander turned away regretfully and began to walk out of the room. A firm hand grabbed him around the waist and spun him. He grunted when he collided with Spike. They stood there, nose to nose for a long moment.
“Going to walk out without giving me my say,” Spike said conversationally. “Not bloody likely.”
Rating: NC-17 overall
A/N: X-posted to
darker_spike for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.A/N II: I want to say thank you to everyone who has commented on this story. I really do appreciate each and every comment. They definitely keep me motivated!
Xander shuffled, squinting, out into the hallway. He waited, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He thought grumpily that Cordelia had better be dying for this interruption to be worth it, then instantly felt guilty.
Once again, the carpenter scores, he groaned inwardly. After all, she’s only had her life and her brain turned upside down by these visions. But let’s ignore that in favor of finally getting close to Spike.
“Repeat after me,” Xander muttered. “My dick does not defeat evil.”
A rusty chuckle echoed hollowly from the bedroom. Xander blushed slightly, as he realized that once again he’d been speaking out loud. Obviously, this needed to stop. He’d gotten used to talking to himself since he spent the majority of his time alone.
Xander frowned. He didn’t spend all his time alone. Between work and the Scoobies, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone. But, he distinctly remembered long days and nights of solitude with only his own voice for company.
Xander moved back into the bedroom, kneeling down in front of Spike. He dropped his head onto Spike’s lap, unsure if he was seeking solace or offering it. Things were getting crazy and the only thing he was completely one hundred percent about was Spike.
He just sat there, silent and calm. Finally, he felt Spike’s hand fall lightly on his head. The touch, soft and almost reluctant, was a benediction. Here in the dark, with no words to confuse their thoughts or mangle their memories, Xander believed that he and this strange vampire could reach a state of grace.
“You came back,” Spike whispered.
“I’ll always come back for you,” Xander answered and even in the jumble of his memories, this was true.
He’d hated this demon, mocked his pain, and attacked him. But he’d never abandoned him, never refused his presence.
“I think I’ve always been here,” he said to Spike quietly.
Spike didn’t say anything and strangely, that was okay. It was enough that they were here, in the dark, together. Xander wondered if the power of the wish rested in demons that didn’t go in for vengeance. He thought it must, because this was his wish; just sitting back and breathing, letting the world pass them by while they rested.
A large form blocked the light, throwing shadow over his face. Xander knew he should look up, but he didn’t. He just sat there, finally calm and at peace.
“Xander,” and the voice was familiar and caring. “Xander, it’s okay.”
Xander didn’t respond. He knew it was okay. It was dark and cool and Spike was touching him.
“Wes,” the voice called out, soft and unhurried, “I think I’m gonna need some help here. Get Cordy and tell her to bring the potion.”
Xander felt like those words should be important. Somewhere in his brain, a voice sussurated and burbled about potions being important. He just breathed, drawing the drugging scents of whiskey and smoke deeper inside his lungs.
“Xander, I need you to listen to me,” and a finger tugged at his chin, trying to pull his face away from Spike. “You’re sick. Cordy’s bringing medicine and you have to take it in order to get better.”
Xander resisted the finger, pulling himself back towards Spike. Every inch away from Spike was another piece of himself lost. The finger released his chin and Xander sighed, sliding back to his original position.
Another voice, soft and indistinct, crept into his ears. He stopped listening, focusing instead on the slow steady rustle of Spike’s fingers carding through his hair. Spike was breathing, another slow steady sound that filled Xander’s body. He clung desperately to those sounds, that touch, to keep from disintegrating.
“Xander,” another voice, just as familiar. “Spike is sick. He can’t get well unless he drinks this. Will you help me? I need you to drink this or Spike will die.”
Xander instantly opened his mouth. Spike had to live. Spike had to stay and keep Xander from breaking apart. A bitter taste flooded Xander’s mouth and he recoiled slightly, but continued to drink. Spike. This was for Spike.
As soon as the noxious fluid hit his stomach, the world snapped back into place. Xander looked up to see Cordelia’s face, anxious and pinched, inches away from him. He smiled at her and she rocked back on her heels, returning his smile.
“Better?” she asked him.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “That was weird, even by Hellmouth standards. What the hell?”
“Come on.” Cordy stood and held out a hand. “I’ll tell you downstairs.”
Xander looked up at Spike, and said, “Give me a minute.”
He wasn’t sure if he could explain, but apparently he didn’t have to because Cordy just left, taking Angel and Wesley with her. Xander’s eyes never left Spike, and he tried to think of what to say.
“So,” he began, “think this could get any more fucked up?”
Spike nodded wordlessly, not meeting Xander’s gaze. Xander stood, running a hand through his hair. His own touch seemed coarser now in comparison with the gentle, almost reverent, fingers that had kept him anchored to the world.
“ I remember now,” Xander tried again. “Everything from before, all the ugliness and stupidity. And I remember how it’s changed…changing.”
Spike nodded again, and Xander leaned over, a hand on Spike’s shoulder. This man, who in another reality had loomed so large, now seemed fragile. Xander knew that the wrong word would shatter Spike, maybe irrevocably.
He put his lips to Spike’s forehead and whispered, “Thank you.”
Spike jerked away, head snapping back. His eyes, large and disbelieving, filled Xander’s vision. Xander knew that old memories are sometimes the most painful. Hell, he had a head full of them himself.
“You were the only thing that kept me from fracturing,” Xander told him earnestly. “Your touch, your scent, it was all that stood between me and whatever it was that gave us that little side trip to crazy. Thank you.”
Spike smiled at him, and it was a heartbreaking smile. Xander inhaled sharply, trying to ease the lead that invaded his chest. He might have had a less than sane moment, but it had been beautiful. His entire world had shrunk to the feel of Spike’s skin and the sound of Spike’s breath. He’d never been so totally involved in another being like that, and he wanted it again.
Xander was determined not to screw this up. This whole damn trip had been about fixing mistakes, not making new ones. He smiled back, and cupped his hand around Spike’s head. A last kiss and nobody would deny him that, right?
He ghosted his lips over Spike’s and tasted salt. He let go, and looked down. A shimmering droplet clung to those full lips, and he realized his face was wet.
“Xander…” Spike held out a hand but Xander could only shake his head.
“Thank you,” he said again. “It was…it was…I never thought I’d feel like that.”
Xander turned away regretfully and began to walk out of the room. A firm hand grabbed him around the waist and spun him. He grunted when he collided with Spike. They stood there, nose to nose for a long moment.
“Going to walk out without giving me my say,” Spike said conversationally. “Not bloody likely.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2007-08-05 03:04 am (UTC)I like being confused.
no subject
on 2007-08-06 04:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-05 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-06 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-05 03:01 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-06 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-06 10:14 pm (UTC)I laughed at this: “Repeat after me,” Xander muttered. “My dick does not defeat evil.” Wasn't it Xander who said "Never underestimate the power of the penis..."? He's contradicting himelf!
no subject
on 2007-08-07 02:38 am (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed the snark. That's always my favorite part of writing. As for contradicting himself, well we all do that...we change, we grow, we decide that penises are not magical...sometimes, at any rate.
no subject
on 2007-12-20 01:37 am (UTC)