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Okey, before anyone cries, I *am* planning a sequal. And, this is unbeta'd. And, *please please please* leave feedback if you can. This one was really hard to write for some reason, and I'm interested to see whether or not I nailed it.
Title: In Sunlight or in Shadow
Author: chocgood84 (chocgood84 @ livejournal.com)
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Notes: Sleeping Beauty fic, AU, character death
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did, this wouldn’t be fanfic, it’d be cannon. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon. No harm, no foul.
Xander’s teeth were chattering in the post-midnight freeze. A cold front had settled over southern California, and it seemed as if the drop in temperature had frozen time and space as well. But even the cold air couldn’t explain the ice that had settled deep in his chest.
Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out the receipt from the Espresso Pump and flipped it over to read the map once more. That tiny piece of paper was all he had at the time he was given the directions. He silently thanked the appropriate gods or goddesses that he had had a pen handy. After all, directions given to you in dreams weren’t exactly accessible Mapquest.
“Come on, Spike, where the fuck are you?” Xander whispered, more to hear his own voice than anything. The forest was eerie this night; the cold driving all the forest habitants underground and scurrying for shelter. The only sound Xander had heard for the last three hours was his own breath and his own footfall. Occasionally the wind from the north would roll through the trees, moaning and freezing Xander where he stood.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so cloudy tonight, Xander thought. At least then I’d be able to see where the hell I’m going.
As it was, every few seconds, the forest would leap to life and then fall away again and again. The endless strobing was a little unsettling, and made Xander’s head hurt. His feet hurt too, from all the walking. Tiny cuts and scrapes covered his face and hands from the trees and brush he had to constantly clear. Yet, despite the pain, he knew he wouldn’t go home until he found Spike.
“God dammit, Spike! Where the fuck are you!?” Xander shouted into the dark. He was answered by a hundred echoes and again he realized just how alone he would be without Spike.
“You damned vampire! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be out here right now!” And then Xander was struck by the thought that he wouldn’t be anywhere without Spike.
At least no where in this universe, he thought. Lately, he just couldn’t get the video playback of that night to stop screening in 3D IMAX in his head.
***
Two months earlier:
“That demon would have bloody ripped you apart, Harris!” Spike was screaming. Seems they were both screaming.
“Well at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with this, Spike! I cannot believe you said that to me.” Xander shouted back. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this. Could not understand what Spike was saying. Had he slipped in Crazy Land and not been told? Cuz otherwise, life was just too weird, Xander thought.
“What’s to believe, Harris? I told you and now that’s that. Don’t pretend you don’t feel something too.” Spike took out yet another cigarette from the crumpled pack inside his duster. Flick of the lighter, hiss of inhalation. Smoking and pacing seemed to be all the vampire could do at the moment. Well, that and annoy the hell out of Xander.
“I don’t! How many times to I have to tell you, Spike?” Xander was really getting sick of this. Really getting tired of dealing with…situations.
I need to get away from here, Xander thought. I need to get away from Sunnydale, from the Hellmouth, and from him. One of these days, I’m gonna wind up in Wacky Dale’s Funny Farm if I don’t get outta here!
“I don’t bleedin care what you say, whelp, nor how many times you say it. I know the truth, and I know what’s going on. Come on, Xander is it really that hard to believe? Is it really so difficult to imagine?”
Smoke, pace, smoke, pace, smoke, pace. Big gestures, loud voice! Lights! Camera! Action! Xander had to roll his eyes at his inner dialogue. Aww, come on, I have to admit, he is kind of…cute? No, no! So not cute! He’s a vampire! A big blood-sucking cigarette smoking whiskey drinking sailor-language spewing vampire! And I am not attracted to him in leastest tiniest kind of way!
“Look, Spike. I don’t know what you’re up to or if this is some kind of a sick game to you, but you better fucking knock it off!” Xander rose out of his chair but found himself suddenly trapped between a cinderblock basement wall and a very pissed currently smoke-free vampire.
“Get off me, Spike! Let me go!” Xander was wriggling and had the urge to start screaming in the vampire’s face, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He was stuck.
“No! Now, listen to me, boy. You asked me why I saved you from that fuckin witch demon and I told you! You asked me, remember? Just because you can’t deal with it or because you’re too much of a piss-on to let your real feelings show, don’t take that out on me. But, Xander, listen to me. Do you think it’s easy for me to say that to a bloody mortal?! A godforsaken little arse like you? If I can come to terms with it, you sure as hell should.”
Spike’s grip loosened, but his hands stayed firmly planted Xander’s biceps. Spike’s eyes got darker, and it seemed like a tide had changed. Something was…different. His voice had lowered to just barely a whisper, and Xander had to strain to hear the words that were spoken to him.
“It’s true, Xander, okay?” Spike sounded almost distraught, and for some reason that sent little stabs of pain deep into Xander’s chest. “It’s true. I, William the Bloody, am in love with the human coffee boy, Xander bloody Harris. Why can’t you understand that, pet?”
All at once, the anger in Xander’s body exploded and he had to force himself to keep his voice as low as Spike’s. He reached into his pocket and found the tiny crucifix keychain he’d found in Tijuana last summer, clutching it so tight he thought he might puncture his palm.
“Well, Spike. Listen to me, because I’m not saying it again. I. Do. Not. Love. You!” Xander whispered, and in one move brought the crucifix up between them, pressing it against Spike’s chest.
Spike hissed and retreated a few steps back, enough for Xander to maneuver towards the door, walking backwards.
“Listen to me, Spike,” Xander growled through clenched teeth. “I do not, have not, nor will I ever love you. How can I love something that doesn’t have a beating heart? How can I love something that doesn’t know anything about life, but everything about death? I’m leaving now, Spike, and I don’t want you to follow me. When I come back, I want you and your shit gone. I don’t care where the fuck you go, but I’m telling you this now: do not come around me or my friends again, or I’ll show you just how bad unlife can be. Do you hear me? Get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
With that, Xander spun on his heel and was out of the basement apartment before the snarky vampire could say anything else. Xander left him, lying broken and in pain on the basement floor, and when he returned, Spike was gone…
And Xander hadn’t seen Spike since that night. God knows he had tried to find Spike in the days following - to apologize or to rant or something - but it appeared as if the bleached wonder had skipped town.
Ever since that night, though, Xander had felt – odd. He’d been thinking about Spike constantly, and about what he had said. He thought daily of what Spike had done for him that night, saving him from that witch demon. Xander had to admit, the vampire definitely had some balls. That demon really could have messed Spike up, or worse, killed him. But he hadn’t cared. All he had seen was that Xander was in danger, and Spike, the brave knight that was, or was that reckless endangerment?, charged in to his rescue.
“God, Spike. You were so stupid! Why did you do it? I’ll never understand it.” Xander muttered to himself, wrapping his wool coat just a little tighter around him, shoving his hands into pockets.
But Xander knew why; the vampire was in love with him. At the time, Xander couldn’t accept it. But the more he thought about it, which was something he had done a lot since, the more he understood. The more he dealt with it. The more he thought there might be something more to it.
“Stupid vampire.” Xander whispered into the wind.
But for the last two months, Xander had thought it over, and realized that perhaps there was something more to his feelings for Spike aside from the intense ‘fight!’ feeling that came over him every time he saw the vampire. Eventually, he came to the simple conclusion: sexual tension. Every time the Bleached Buddha walked through the door, Xander had two options: attraction or hostility. And since attraction was out of the question, naturally he slid towards hostility.
“Right, because Vampires never fall in love with humans. And humans never fall for the jesters of the dark side…God I’m such an idiot.” Xander again verbally smacked himself. He knew even at the time when he was screaming at Spike that vampires could have emotions. If living in the drama that was Buffy and Angel’s relationship had taught him anything, it was that they had no shortage of emotional waves. And every once in a while, they enjoyed doing a little surfing.
Well, Angel had at least one emotion that I know of – big mopey bastard.
So for months now, Xander had been toiling with the idea of Spike in his head. Thinking about how it would be to be held in his arms. What it would be like touch that colder than stone skin. To enjoy being whispered to by that soft but gravel voice. To feel the power and the strength in that body.
God I want him so much. And, so glad I dealt with all the homo self-hating shit before. Otherwise it’d take a few more months before I could talk to Spike. Thank you, Oxnard! Well, and thank you Jimmy, for that matter. At that, Xander gave a mental blush, and suddenly he wasn’t quite so cold anymore.
The clouds rolled away once more to reveal a large rock formation about a mile ahead, and Xander gave a mental ‘squick!’, and pulled the “map” out of his pocket, squinting to read his own writing.
“Once you see the big egg, you’re almost there. There’s a cave at the base of the rocks, and the temple is hidden way down inside.”
Sure enough, once Xander came to the large rock that looked like some huge dinosaur egg left over from a prehistoric age, there was a cave nestled at the base. Next to the entrance, there was a large branch of wood, with hemp wrapped around one end. Xander took the hint, and fished in his pocket for his lighter. Nothing as fancy as Spike’s; Xander’s was just a cheap little 7-11 silver-plated “Zippa”.
He remembered when had bought this lighter. About two weeks after he had told Spike to beat it, when he was moving into his new apartment, he had the strange craving for menthol. So he’d gone to the nearest convenience store, and picked up a pack of the cheapest menthol cigarettes he could find, and a spiff-looking Zippo knock-off. On the way back to his new apartment, he had taken a cigarette out of the pack, and flicked the Zippa, sucking in a cloud of smoke…and then nearly coughed to death.
However, a couple week’s practice, and now Xander was a two-a-day man, cigarettes that is, not packs, and he could now light the lighter with barely any hair loss. The Scoobies hated the fact that he’d started smoking, using the logic that there are enough things in Sunnydale trying to kill them, now he has too? Of course, Xander had replied that with that many things trying to kill them, why not? And anyway, a cigarette in the morning and one at night made the place smell and feel like Spike. Course, he’d never tell them that, but it was nice just the same.
Xander grabbed the torch and after a few minutes had it blazing, emitting heat and light. Xander was never so glad to see fire in all his life. He shivered all over from the warmth that the flame spread, though it seemed just as the torch was lit the wind kicked up; an arctic flare that threatened to blow out the fire like a match.
Xander took a few hesitant steps into the cave, goose bumps popping up and down his body. The only sound was the now-howling wind, whispering echoes down deep into the cave.
He felt for a moment like Indiana Jones, waving his torch ahead of him. Damn, I would look cool in a fedora. Mental note: buy hat.
About another ten feet into the cave, and he came to the stairs that led down into the earth. He couldn’t see the end, though the torch lit the stairs for a far distance. Stairs. Of. DOOM. Xander thought, shivering just a little. Just like the dream.
Taking a deep breath, Xander debated whether he should or shouldn’t smoke a cigarette, finally decided on no. S’not what Indy would do.
He made his way to the top of the stairs, peering down. A mental gulp later, and he was descending down into the earth, with only his raspy breath and the sharp “tap-tap” of his shoes to accompany him. He thought of the dream again…
***
The dream, two nights ago:
Xander was walking through the forest, pushing brush and tree branches out of his path, for hours until finally he came upon a tremendous rock formation. It looked like a giant egg. Beneath the egg lay the entrance to the temple, a common cave from the look of it.
Xander picked up the torch and lit it, entering the cavern hesitantly but determinedly. Inside the cave there were markings on the stone walls, illustrations of the temple’s origins. Crude stick figures drawn with charcoal and stone. Carvings depicting those who built the temple below, and what it was used for. Following the depictions through time, it appeared as if the temple was abandoned eons ago, and it ceased to be a temple any longer. Rather, it became a shrine, a mausoleum of sorts, dedication to the demon that these humans worshiped as their God. Sometime very long ago, the demon was brought down and chained into a mortal body, creating the demon human hybrid; the witch demon that Xander had crossed paths with months ago. The witch demon became immortal, only because it had never been killed. Though it could live forever, it was not invincible. And alas, the demon killed nearly all of its worshipers when they tried to cage it and harness its incredible powers. A few had escaped, never to return. And since that time, no mortal had ever set eyes upon this cave. Until tonight.
Xander didn’t know why he was here, but he was being pulled toward something. He felt himself being pulled and grabbed and pushed towards something; all he knew is that it was something he needed.
Xander swung the torch around and found the staircase. He gave a great breath and began to descend the staircase.
After many minutes, and a great distance into the earth, he came to the end of the stairway. He swung the torch around to discover he was in a small chamber, not much larger than an elevator. Before him lay two great doors, and by the light of the torch he could see that they were made of marble. They were perhaps twenty feet tall, and as wide as the chamber itself.
Xander drew the light closer to view the carvings upon the marble. Much of the same as those above.
There were words, ancient text, carved deep into the marble, painted with gold. Xander couldn’t read the text, though he knew it was the story of the demon witch that had once resided here. Behind these doors lay the beast’s lair, or what once was.
In the center of the two doors was an embossed sphere of what seemed to be pure gold. On the sphere was the impression of a hand with mighty claws.
***
Present
Xander placed his hand on the impression, molding his fingers to those of gold. At once, a spark of electricity shot threw him, sending every hair on his body to rigid postures. In his mind, he saw a vision of Spike hefting a sword through the center of the demon witch’s chest. He saw the golden light cascade from the wound, and by that fiery light he could see Spike’s face contort in pain.
He heard the demon witch’s final curse, “That creature which makes me suffer my death must also suffer. That creature must lie as in death and know the true agony of that unmerciful rest. Neither sustenance nor life shall make itself known to this creature, but that of the life-force of his one true love. Only that love shall break this spell, and the cure shall be the death of this triumphant lover. The vampire must not wake until his lover is drained of life and empty of breath. Only then will the spell be broken, and only then will he awake, and only then will he know the true agony of death and the pleasure of love. Here my words, creature, for they shall be the last, for me and for you.
Xander gasped as the vision faded, the electricity transporting itself back to his hand and into the sphere, melting the gold with no heat. The seal broke, tricking the lock, and the marble doors fell open in one swift move, silent and powerful.
He gasped again as he took in the sight before him.
An immense room, entirely built of what seemed to be golden marble, many veins of pure gold reflecting a hundred fold the light of thousands of candles. The room was brighter than the noon sun, yet dark as midnight. The air hinted of jasmine and beeswax, and the brilliant light seemed to create unnatural warmth here in the bowels of the earth.
Dozens of golden vases held snow white lilies and orchids, all of them surrounding and adorning an immense alter in the center of the room. The base was some teen feet in length, four feet in width, and four feet in height made of granite as black as space. Intricate images of gold appeared to dance upon the granite; these illustrations mirrored but surpassed the carvings of the cave above and the door without.
Upon the alter lay Spike, his skin as white as the flora. The flickering flames of the candles caused shadows to leap across his naked body, wrapping and unwrapping the vampire in darkness and light. Spike’s arms lay upon his chest, his fingers knitted together, as if praying for a god that would never arrive.
Spike’s face was still contorted in the pain Xander saw in the vision. The same, only thinner. His narrow cheekbones protruded disgustingly, his lips dry and cracked. His eyes were closed and sunken slightly. Xander could see that the rest of his body was the same, too thin; bones were almost completely visible, the skin so tight it was nearly translucent.
Xander nearly doubled over in pain as he took in this hideous vision before him. Pain from guilt, pain from longing, pain from loss. The loss of the unwielded opportunity to love this man, the loss of what might have been, and the loss of his own life soon. His entire soul screamed in the pain, raging against the loss.
He stepped up to the alter, shaky hands stopping just short of touching this sleeping knight. Xander smelled decay mixed with the wax and the jasmine. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to let loose the ocean held behind them.
Xander took out the dagger he had placed in his jacket, setting it upon the alter. He removed his jacket and rolled up his left shirt sleeve. The tears began to flow.
“Spike. Spike, oh God, what have I done? Spike, I know you can’t hear me, and I don’t know if you would even care, but Spike. God, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t done what I did, it wouldn’t have come to this. You wouldn’t be in so much pain. You wouldn’t be so far from me, and maybe we could have been happy.” Xander choked on the sobs that rose from his chest. He tasted salt in his words. He let the sobs pass and the tears fall for moments before he continued.
“Spike, the truth is, I was afraid. I’ve never let myself love anyone before. I’ve never let myself be loved. I…I…I do love you, Spike. I guess I always have. But it was okay to love you before I knew you felt the same. It made it okay for me to accept that maybe I was screwed up and that the feelings would never be returned. I-God, I sound so crazy. This would be where you say ‘Shut up, Harris, or get on with it.’ I guess what I’m trying to say, Spike, is that I wish things weren’t like this. I wish I could just hold you and tell you over and over how much I love you. I wish…I wish I didn’t have to wish. You should be here with me, not lying there, not so close to death. Not without me.
The point is, Spike, is that you saved my life. You saved my life, and now I’m going to save yours.”
Xander unwrapped the dagger, and quickly made a deep slice into his wrist, wincing at the flame of pain that snapped through his body. Instantly his blood began to flow. Xander leaned in and placed the smallest, gentlest kiss upon Spike’s lips, afraid to bruise the broken hero. He replaced his lips with his wrist, sighing when after a moment he felt the pull of Spike’s vacuum.
Before his fading eyes, Spike’s body began to regenerate. His skin grew and expanded, becoming fuller and more natural. His face as well returned nearly to the splendor it once had been. His hair rejuvenated its once magnificent luster. And still that pull. It no longer held the pain, only the pleasure of the steady pull and suction of his energy, his life.
The golden light and the vision of Spike began to fade, and Xander gave a mental note of thanks to whichever gods were responsible that he could feel the love he felt just then. That at least once in his short life, he could know what it was to have his heart beat only for another. To know that he was loved. And finally, there was nothing.
Title: In Sunlight or in Shadow
Author: chocgood84 (chocgood84 @ livejournal.com)
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Notes: Sleeping Beauty fic, AU, character death
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did, this wouldn’t be fanfic, it’d be cannon. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon. No harm, no foul.
Xander’s teeth were chattering in the post-midnight freeze. A cold front had settled over southern California, and it seemed as if the drop in temperature had frozen time and space as well. But even the cold air couldn’t explain the ice that had settled deep in his chest.
Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out the receipt from the Espresso Pump and flipped it over to read the map once more. That tiny piece of paper was all he had at the time he was given the directions. He silently thanked the appropriate gods or goddesses that he had had a pen handy. After all, directions given to you in dreams weren’t exactly accessible Mapquest.
“Come on, Spike, where the fuck are you?” Xander whispered, more to hear his own voice than anything. The forest was eerie this night; the cold driving all the forest habitants underground and scurrying for shelter. The only sound Xander had heard for the last three hours was his own breath and his own footfall. Occasionally the wind from the north would roll through the trees, moaning and freezing Xander where he stood.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so cloudy tonight, Xander thought. At least then I’d be able to see where the hell I’m going.
As it was, every few seconds, the forest would leap to life and then fall away again and again. The endless strobing was a little unsettling, and made Xander’s head hurt. His feet hurt too, from all the walking. Tiny cuts and scrapes covered his face and hands from the trees and brush he had to constantly clear. Yet, despite the pain, he knew he wouldn’t go home until he found Spike.
“God dammit, Spike! Where the fuck are you!?” Xander shouted into the dark. He was answered by a hundred echoes and again he realized just how alone he would be without Spike.
“You damned vampire! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be out here right now!” And then Xander was struck by the thought that he wouldn’t be anywhere without Spike.
At least no where in this universe, he thought. Lately, he just couldn’t get the video playback of that night to stop screening in 3D IMAX in his head.
***
Two months earlier:
“That demon would have bloody ripped you apart, Harris!” Spike was screaming. Seems they were both screaming.
“Well at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with this, Spike! I cannot believe you said that to me.” Xander shouted back. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this. Could not understand what Spike was saying. Had he slipped in Crazy Land and not been told? Cuz otherwise, life was just too weird, Xander thought.
“What’s to believe, Harris? I told you and now that’s that. Don’t pretend you don’t feel something too.” Spike took out yet another cigarette from the crumpled pack inside his duster. Flick of the lighter, hiss of inhalation. Smoking and pacing seemed to be all the vampire could do at the moment. Well, that and annoy the hell out of Xander.
“I don’t! How many times to I have to tell you, Spike?” Xander was really getting sick of this. Really getting tired of dealing with…situations.
I need to get away from here, Xander thought. I need to get away from Sunnydale, from the Hellmouth, and from him. One of these days, I’m gonna wind up in Wacky Dale’s Funny Farm if I don’t get outta here!
“I don’t bleedin care what you say, whelp, nor how many times you say it. I know the truth, and I know what’s going on. Come on, Xander is it really that hard to believe? Is it really so difficult to imagine?”
Smoke, pace, smoke, pace, smoke, pace. Big gestures, loud voice! Lights! Camera! Action! Xander had to roll his eyes at his inner dialogue. Aww, come on, I have to admit, he is kind of…cute? No, no! So not cute! He’s a vampire! A big blood-sucking cigarette smoking whiskey drinking sailor-language spewing vampire! And I am not attracted to him in leastest tiniest kind of way!
“Look, Spike. I don’t know what you’re up to or if this is some kind of a sick game to you, but you better fucking knock it off!” Xander rose out of his chair but found himself suddenly trapped between a cinderblock basement wall and a very pissed currently smoke-free vampire.
“Get off me, Spike! Let me go!” Xander was wriggling and had the urge to start screaming in the vampire’s face, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He was stuck.
“No! Now, listen to me, boy. You asked me why I saved you from that fuckin witch demon and I told you! You asked me, remember? Just because you can’t deal with it or because you’re too much of a piss-on to let your real feelings show, don’t take that out on me. But, Xander, listen to me. Do you think it’s easy for me to say that to a bloody mortal?! A godforsaken little arse like you? If I can come to terms with it, you sure as hell should.”
Spike’s grip loosened, but his hands stayed firmly planted Xander’s biceps. Spike’s eyes got darker, and it seemed like a tide had changed. Something was…different. His voice had lowered to just barely a whisper, and Xander had to strain to hear the words that were spoken to him.
“It’s true, Xander, okay?” Spike sounded almost distraught, and for some reason that sent little stabs of pain deep into Xander’s chest. “It’s true. I, William the Bloody, am in love with the human coffee boy, Xander bloody Harris. Why can’t you understand that, pet?”
All at once, the anger in Xander’s body exploded and he had to force himself to keep his voice as low as Spike’s. He reached into his pocket and found the tiny crucifix keychain he’d found in Tijuana last summer, clutching it so tight he thought he might puncture his palm.
“Well, Spike. Listen to me, because I’m not saying it again. I. Do. Not. Love. You!” Xander whispered, and in one move brought the crucifix up between them, pressing it against Spike’s chest.
Spike hissed and retreated a few steps back, enough for Xander to maneuver towards the door, walking backwards.
“Listen to me, Spike,” Xander growled through clenched teeth. “I do not, have not, nor will I ever love you. How can I love something that doesn’t have a beating heart? How can I love something that doesn’t know anything about life, but everything about death? I’m leaving now, Spike, and I don’t want you to follow me. When I come back, I want you and your shit gone. I don’t care where the fuck you go, but I’m telling you this now: do not come around me or my friends again, or I’ll show you just how bad unlife can be. Do you hear me? Get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
With that, Xander spun on his heel and was out of the basement apartment before the snarky vampire could say anything else. Xander left him, lying broken and in pain on the basement floor, and when he returned, Spike was gone…
And Xander hadn’t seen Spike since that night. God knows he had tried to find Spike in the days following - to apologize or to rant or something - but it appeared as if the bleached wonder had skipped town.
Ever since that night, though, Xander had felt – odd. He’d been thinking about Spike constantly, and about what he had said. He thought daily of what Spike had done for him that night, saving him from that witch demon. Xander had to admit, the vampire definitely had some balls. That demon really could have messed Spike up, or worse, killed him. But he hadn’t cared. All he had seen was that Xander was in danger, and Spike, the brave knight that was, or was that reckless endangerment?, charged in to his rescue.
“God, Spike. You were so stupid! Why did you do it? I’ll never understand it.” Xander muttered to himself, wrapping his wool coat just a little tighter around him, shoving his hands into pockets.
But Xander knew why; the vampire was in love with him. At the time, Xander couldn’t accept it. But the more he thought about it, which was something he had done a lot since, the more he understood. The more he dealt with it. The more he thought there might be something more to it.
“Stupid vampire.” Xander whispered into the wind.
But for the last two months, Xander had thought it over, and realized that perhaps there was something more to his feelings for Spike aside from the intense ‘fight!’ feeling that came over him every time he saw the vampire. Eventually, he came to the simple conclusion: sexual tension. Every time the Bleached Buddha walked through the door, Xander had two options: attraction or hostility. And since attraction was out of the question, naturally he slid towards hostility.
“Right, because Vampires never fall in love with humans. And humans never fall for the jesters of the dark side…God I’m such an idiot.” Xander again verbally smacked himself. He knew even at the time when he was screaming at Spike that vampires could have emotions. If living in the drama that was Buffy and Angel’s relationship had taught him anything, it was that they had no shortage of emotional waves. And every once in a while, they enjoyed doing a little surfing.
Well, Angel had at least one emotion that I know of – big mopey bastard.
So for months now, Xander had been toiling with the idea of Spike in his head. Thinking about how it would be to be held in his arms. What it would be like touch that colder than stone skin. To enjoy being whispered to by that soft but gravel voice. To feel the power and the strength in that body.
God I want him so much. And, so glad I dealt with all the homo self-hating shit before. Otherwise it’d take a few more months before I could talk to Spike. Thank you, Oxnard! Well, and thank you Jimmy, for that matter. At that, Xander gave a mental blush, and suddenly he wasn’t quite so cold anymore.
The clouds rolled away once more to reveal a large rock formation about a mile ahead, and Xander gave a mental ‘squick!’, and pulled the “map” out of his pocket, squinting to read his own writing.
“Once you see the big egg, you’re almost there. There’s a cave at the base of the rocks, and the temple is hidden way down inside.”
Sure enough, once Xander came to the large rock that looked like some huge dinosaur egg left over from a prehistoric age, there was a cave nestled at the base. Next to the entrance, there was a large branch of wood, with hemp wrapped around one end. Xander took the hint, and fished in his pocket for his lighter. Nothing as fancy as Spike’s; Xander’s was just a cheap little 7-11 silver-plated “Zippa”.
He remembered when had bought this lighter. About two weeks after he had told Spike to beat it, when he was moving into his new apartment, he had the strange craving for menthol. So he’d gone to the nearest convenience store, and picked up a pack of the cheapest menthol cigarettes he could find, and a spiff-looking Zippo knock-off. On the way back to his new apartment, he had taken a cigarette out of the pack, and flicked the Zippa, sucking in a cloud of smoke…and then nearly coughed to death.
However, a couple week’s practice, and now Xander was a two-a-day man, cigarettes that is, not packs, and he could now light the lighter with barely any hair loss. The Scoobies hated the fact that he’d started smoking, using the logic that there are enough things in Sunnydale trying to kill them, now he has too? Of course, Xander had replied that with that many things trying to kill them, why not? And anyway, a cigarette in the morning and one at night made the place smell and feel like Spike. Course, he’d never tell them that, but it was nice just the same.
Xander grabbed the torch and after a few minutes had it blazing, emitting heat and light. Xander was never so glad to see fire in all his life. He shivered all over from the warmth that the flame spread, though it seemed just as the torch was lit the wind kicked up; an arctic flare that threatened to blow out the fire like a match.
Xander took a few hesitant steps into the cave, goose bumps popping up and down his body. The only sound was the now-howling wind, whispering echoes down deep into the cave.
He felt for a moment like Indiana Jones, waving his torch ahead of him. Damn, I would look cool in a fedora. Mental note: buy hat.
About another ten feet into the cave, and he came to the stairs that led down into the earth. He couldn’t see the end, though the torch lit the stairs for a far distance. Stairs. Of. DOOM. Xander thought, shivering just a little. Just like the dream.
Taking a deep breath, Xander debated whether he should or shouldn’t smoke a cigarette, finally decided on no. S’not what Indy would do.
He made his way to the top of the stairs, peering down. A mental gulp later, and he was descending down into the earth, with only his raspy breath and the sharp “tap-tap” of his shoes to accompany him. He thought of the dream again…
***
The dream, two nights ago:
Xander was walking through the forest, pushing brush and tree branches out of his path, for hours until finally he came upon a tremendous rock formation. It looked like a giant egg. Beneath the egg lay the entrance to the temple, a common cave from the look of it.
Xander picked up the torch and lit it, entering the cavern hesitantly but determinedly. Inside the cave there were markings on the stone walls, illustrations of the temple’s origins. Crude stick figures drawn with charcoal and stone. Carvings depicting those who built the temple below, and what it was used for. Following the depictions through time, it appeared as if the temple was abandoned eons ago, and it ceased to be a temple any longer. Rather, it became a shrine, a mausoleum of sorts, dedication to the demon that these humans worshiped as their God. Sometime very long ago, the demon was brought down and chained into a mortal body, creating the demon human hybrid; the witch demon that Xander had crossed paths with months ago. The witch demon became immortal, only because it had never been killed. Though it could live forever, it was not invincible. And alas, the demon killed nearly all of its worshipers when they tried to cage it and harness its incredible powers. A few had escaped, never to return. And since that time, no mortal had ever set eyes upon this cave. Until tonight.
Xander didn’t know why he was here, but he was being pulled toward something. He felt himself being pulled and grabbed and pushed towards something; all he knew is that it was something he needed.
Xander swung the torch around and found the staircase. He gave a great breath and began to descend the staircase.
After many minutes, and a great distance into the earth, he came to the end of the stairway. He swung the torch around to discover he was in a small chamber, not much larger than an elevator. Before him lay two great doors, and by the light of the torch he could see that they were made of marble. They were perhaps twenty feet tall, and as wide as the chamber itself.
Xander drew the light closer to view the carvings upon the marble. Much of the same as those above.
There were words, ancient text, carved deep into the marble, painted with gold. Xander couldn’t read the text, though he knew it was the story of the demon witch that had once resided here. Behind these doors lay the beast’s lair, or what once was.
In the center of the two doors was an embossed sphere of what seemed to be pure gold. On the sphere was the impression of a hand with mighty claws.
***
Present
Xander placed his hand on the impression, molding his fingers to those of gold. At once, a spark of electricity shot threw him, sending every hair on his body to rigid postures. In his mind, he saw a vision of Spike hefting a sword through the center of the demon witch’s chest. He saw the golden light cascade from the wound, and by that fiery light he could see Spike’s face contort in pain.
He heard the demon witch’s final curse, “That creature which makes me suffer my death must also suffer. That creature must lie as in death and know the true agony of that unmerciful rest. Neither sustenance nor life shall make itself known to this creature, but that of the life-force of his one true love. Only that love shall break this spell, and the cure shall be the death of this triumphant lover. The vampire must not wake until his lover is drained of life and empty of breath. Only then will the spell be broken, and only then will he awake, and only then will he know the true agony of death and the pleasure of love. Here my words, creature, for they shall be the last, for me and for you.
Xander gasped as the vision faded, the electricity transporting itself back to his hand and into the sphere, melting the gold with no heat. The seal broke, tricking the lock, and the marble doors fell open in one swift move, silent and powerful.
He gasped again as he took in the sight before him.
An immense room, entirely built of what seemed to be golden marble, many veins of pure gold reflecting a hundred fold the light of thousands of candles. The room was brighter than the noon sun, yet dark as midnight. The air hinted of jasmine and beeswax, and the brilliant light seemed to create unnatural warmth here in the bowels of the earth.
Dozens of golden vases held snow white lilies and orchids, all of them surrounding and adorning an immense alter in the center of the room. The base was some teen feet in length, four feet in width, and four feet in height made of granite as black as space. Intricate images of gold appeared to dance upon the granite; these illustrations mirrored but surpassed the carvings of the cave above and the door without.
Upon the alter lay Spike, his skin as white as the flora. The flickering flames of the candles caused shadows to leap across his naked body, wrapping and unwrapping the vampire in darkness and light. Spike’s arms lay upon his chest, his fingers knitted together, as if praying for a god that would never arrive.
Spike’s face was still contorted in the pain Xander saw in the vision. The same, only thinner. His narrow cheekbones protruded disgustingly, his lips dry and cracked. His eyes were closed and sunken slightly. Xander could see that the rest of his body was the same, too thin; bones were almost completely visible, the skin so tight it was nearly translucent.
Xander nearly doubled over in pain as he took in this hideous vision before him. Pain from guilt, pain from longing, pain from loss. The loss of the unwielded opportunity to love this man, the loss of what might have been, and the loss of his own life soon. His entire soul screamed in the pain, raging against the loss.
He stepped up to the alter, shaky hands stopping just short of touching this sleeping knight. Xander smelled decay mixed with the wax and the jasmine. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to let loose the ocean held behind them.
Xander took out the dagger he had placed in his jacket, setting it upon the alter. He removed his jacket and rolled up his left shirt sleeve. The tears began to flow.
“Spike. Spike, oh God, what have I done? Spike, I know you can’t hear me, and I don’t know if you would even care, but Spike. God, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t done what I did, it wouldn’t have come to this. You wouldn’t be in so much pain. You wouldn’t be so far from me, and maybe we could have been happy.” Xander choked on the sobs that rose from his chest. He tasted salt in his words. He let the sobs pass and the tears fall for moments before he continued.
“Spike, the truth is, I was afraid. I’ve never let myself love anyone before. I’ve never let myself be loved. I…I…I do love you, Spike. I guess I always have. But it was okay to love you before I knew you felt the same. It made it okay for me to accept that maybe I was screwed up and that the feelings would never be returned. I-God, I sound so crazy. This would be where you say ‘Shut up, Harris, or get on with it.’ I guess what I’m trying to say, Spike, is that I wish things weren’t like this. I wish I could just hold you and tell you over and over how much I love you. I wish…I wish I didn’t have to wish. You should be here with me, not lying there, not so close to death. Not without me.
The point is, Spike, is that you saved my life. You saved my life, and now I’m going to save yours.”
Xander unwrapped the dagger, and quickly made a deep slice into his wrist, wincing at the flame of pain that snapped through his body. Instantly his blood began to flow. Xander leaned in and placed the smallest, gentlest kiss upon Spike’s lips, afraid to bruise the broken hero. He replaced his lips with his wrist, sighing when after a moment he felt the pull of Spike’s vacuum.
Before his fading eyes, Spike’s body began to regenerate. His skin grew and expanded, becoming fuller and more natural. His face as well returned nearly to the splendor it once had been. His hair rejuvenated its once magnificent luster. And still that pull. It no longer held the pain, only the pleasure of the steady pull and suction of his energy, his life.
The golden light and the vision of Spike began to fade, and Xander gave a mental note of thanks to whichever gods were responsible that he could feel the love he felt just then. That at least once in his short life, he could know what it was to have his heart beat only for another. To know that he was loved. And finally, there was nothing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
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I love it! But, what a cliffhanger......
(only a few grammar things that I could see...but overall, not bad on that front)
From:
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And on the grammer thing, I posted it like 4 different places before I realized that I forgot to code the italic and bold stuff *foread slap* Duh!
So now it should be much easier to read and make a tad more sense, so yay.
So glad you liked it - still not sure myself; it's a little offbeat for me, but the bunny wouldn't leave me alone.
From:
no subject
::pets bunny::
I like it a lot.
From:
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From:
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::hugs::
But thanks for posting so soon....loves it muchly.
From:
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Oh, this is just gorgeous. Just gorgeous.
I think I love you.
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And is this part 1? there is more, right? *begs with big brown puppy eyes* (that works on my other friends *gg*)
PS. it's spelled 'altar' ;-)
From:
no subject
Woops...how'd I spell it? D'oh!