The younger vampire managed one stumbling step before taking a sharp breath and, amazingly, Xander saw the moment of transition as the demon fully retreated and William was left in possession.  William squinted at Xander, blinking as if he’d come into the light from the dark.

“Alexander.”

Out of necessity, Xander buried his upset at losing Spike; he offered his hands and William came to him, took them.

“Quickly, tell Spike.  Tell him I need him back.  Tell him I love him and I’ll take care of him if he’ll only come back.”

William, still dazed, became introspective for a few seconds before focusing on Xander’s face.

“He knows of your love.  He simply does not comprehend why you should feel it for him.”

“You understand more.  Explain to him,” Xander pleaded.

“I question what I understand.  All is confusion and…and I fear I will lose my constancy.  The demon’s instability weakens me and I become too aware of my inadequacies.  This is not my place; I cannot play his part.”

“William…”  Xander suddenly felt a new fear.  He had relied on William for so much and it had never occurred to him that this aspect of Spike could become debilitated.  “What can I do for you?”  A shake of the head, another moment of introspection, and William flinched.  “What?  What is it?”

“He rages.  He screams against the injustice.  Such pain.  My poor demon.”  William gripped Xander’s hands tighter and took a step closer.  “Xander.  What those – those…creatures inflicted upon us…  How shall we ever recover?”

“Get him back.  Give me the chance to make it better.”

“I will not force him to return,” William protested, as close to anger as Xander had ever seen.  “I must protect him and you will not ask me to do otherwise.”  Seeing Xander’s remorse, William quietened.  “He will come back to you.  Sweet Alexander, how could he not?  When he is braver he will make the decision to stay.”

“You think he will?”

“I know he must.  This is not my place,” William reiterated.

“Jeez, this is so weird,” came Dawn’s voice softly from the far side of the room.

The recognition showed on William’s face and he smiled as he turned to face her.  Damningly the first person he noticed was Angel, who had started to leave but was transfixed by the voice he’d heard.

The distress as William laid eyes on Angel rippled out in the atmosphere until it touched everyone.  He reversed into Xander, staring at Angel, taking several gasping breaths that screamed of his fear, making him seem, disconcertingly, very human.

“Angelus.”

“No,” Xander said softly as he rubbed William’s arms, “it’s Angel.  Spike wanted to see him.  Angel won’t hurt you.”

“Angelus,” William repeated, pressing against Xander.

“William…” Angel began quietly, keeping his stance as unthreatening as possible.

“No.  Don’t.”  William managed to clumsily skirt Xander, staring hard at Angel all the time.  “Xander…”

“It’s okay, really.  This is what Spike wanted.”

“Xander, please.  Protect me from him.  Do not let him have me again.  He is no better than…  Please.”

Willow, Buffy and Dawn exchanged the latest in a long line of stunned, unhappy glances; they didn’t know what was worse, William’s genuine terror or the pleas spoken in mannered tones that bore no trace of the guttersnipe accent.  It wasn’t lost on the older vampire either.

“Oh, William,” he whispered painfully, his violent past brought home to him by the sweet, innocent voice.  Unthinking, he moved forward.

“Not another step,” Xander ordered as William’s hands clenched in the back of his shirt.

“Angelus, no.  Not again.  Have pity.”  William’s voice broke and Xander wasn’t prepared to consider what Spike had wanted any longer.

“I think we’re out of here.  Angel, can you…”  Xander gestured to Angel to clear the way, which he did at speed, and Xander reached behind him to clasp William’s hand.  “Be right back.  Willow?”

Xander pulled William from the room, followed swiftly by the watcher.  Once outside he led the vampire straight to the car and popped the locks with the remote control.

“You’re leaving?” Willow said tearfully, worn down by the revelations and scared of losing her friends.

“No.  Get in, sweetheart,” Xander held the back door of the Merc open for William, then waved Willow in after him.  She hesitated and Xander looked at her, cautious brown eyes meeting grief-stricken green.  Xander instinctively knew what this was about.

“What you said…”

“Don’t.  It’s past, it’s over, I’m never going to see my parents again.”

“You should’ve told me years ago.  I could’ve helped.  Somehow.”

“You did.”

Xander smiled and Willow gulped.

“The things you said to Spike.  Were wonderful.”

Relief flooded through Xander at the approval.  He’d been so sure that every word was clumsy, or misplaced, or inappropriate.

“You think?”

Willow laughed as she wiped her face.

“I think.  No wonder he loves you so much.  I think I’m in love with you again and I was only eavesdropping.”

Willow climbed into the car; Xander got into the front seat and turned back to William.  “You okay?”

“I was shocked to see him.  I could not accept him as Angel, however Spike may regard him.  To me, he will always be Angelus and I cannot help but fear him.”  Willow’s hands came across to take William’s, and he finally turned to her.  “Willow.  I…”  Speechless, William raised Willow’s hand to his mouth and laid a respectful kiss on the back.

“I know.  I missed you too.”

“Now, guys…  I want to go back in.  Stay here?”

“We’ll stay here,” Willow agreed, still smiling at the vampire.

“I’ll get them out of the house.  Wills…”  Both Willow and William looked to him and he smiled.  “Willow, here are the car keys.  William, you going to be okay with Willow?  I could do with some time out.”

“Whatever you wish,” and to Xander it felt like there was a ‘Master’ on the end of that and he hated it with a passion.  Xander left the car, went to William’s door and opened it, bending down to press his lips to the cool forehead, hand skimming over the back of the blond head, subconsciously wiping away Angel’s earlier touch.  “Willow, lock the doors.”  Xander backed off and clicked the door shut, waiting for the reassuring thunk of the locks engaging.

Xander took his coat from the hall rack and stopped outside the living room door as he heard Buffy’s voice rising.

“What did you do to him to make him react like that?”

“That was…”

“And what was he like when you took him on?  Like he sounded?  Like he sounded then?”

“You didn’t think he was always Spike, did you?”  Angel was trying to be honest, Xander could tell.  More fool him.  “Angelus wouldn’t have bothered with Spike, even for Drusilla.  But he wanted William.”

“You know, a long time ago he told me about his human past, and I thought he was laying on the ‘poor me’ for some sort of sympathy vote.  But he was that person.  He really was as…as…crushed as he said.  You bastard!  You took him and look what you made him.  How did you treat him to turn him into Spike?”

“It was…”

“Don’t give me fucking Angelus!  And as for, ‘If you don’t, I will’, I’d like to see you try it when I’ve ripped your balls off and presented them to Xander as a trophy.”

Xander fought back a vindictive smile as Buffy launched into a furious verbal attack on her more-often- than-not partner.  For Spike.  Well…William.  No.  For Spike.

Dawn was sat on the sofa with her head in her hands.  She looked up when Xander’s presence brought the fight to an abrupt halt, and he gave her a strained smile.

“Is he okay?”

“He will be.  William’s pretty resilient.  He’s had to be.”

Xander turned to the slayer before Dawn said more and shattered the little self-control he had managed to muster.

“You up for this, Buffy?”

Buffy watched as Xander slid a couple of stakes into his coat pocket.

“Patrolling?  Now?  Are you serious?”

“Yeah.  I want to go kill something.”

“Me too,” agreed Dawn.

“I’m in,” Angel concurred.

“’Kay.  Let’s go.”

Willow stared after the procession leaving her house, watching until they were well up the street.  Buffy and Angel were walking side-by-side but seemed miles apart: it didn’t take a genius to figure out the subtext.  Xander had his arm around Dawn’s shoulder, hers was around his waist, the non-couple couple brought together by their mutual sadness.

“Want to come inside?”

“I feel safe here.”

“I doubt Buffy and Angel will come back here tonight.  Dawn might.  You don’t mind Dawn?”  William gave a brief shake of the head.  “Y’know, I never finished reading Lord of the Flies.  It’s still waiting for you in there.”

“I completed the story in my head, many times, varied conclusions.  I could hear your voice.”

“About twenty pages to the end.  I could read it to you, see how close you got to Golding’s ending.”

“And…and Angelus will not return?”

“We’d never let him near you even if he did.  Not that he’d hurt you.  This is Angel.  One of the good guys.  He has a soul; I fixed it in place myself so I know it’s not going anywhere.”

“A beast with a yoke is still a beast.  Why Spike harbours such affection for him has always eluded me.”

“Hot chocolate,” Willow tempted in a sing-song voice.  “Hot chocolate and Golding.”  She leant closer.  “Marshmallows.”  It was a given.

…

Buffy and Angel were well ahead of the other couple by the time they reached the cemetery.  It was only now that Buffy spoke.

“You can’t be serious about getting the chip removed.”

“He won’t heal until it’s out.  You liked seeing him like that?”

“No, I didn’t.  But I don’t think…”

“I don’t need your permission to help my childe.  That chip is coming out.  Get used to it.”

“Okay, it comes out.  Spike reverts from the vulnerable good-time-that-was-had-by-all to William the Bloody with over a decade of rage and frustration to get out of his system.  How long before he kills us all?”

“He won’t.  I think you know that.”

“What will stop him?”

“I think you know that too.”

Xander and Dawn caught them up, Xander scanning constantly for his first victim.  Buffy could see that the numbing shock of Spike’s admission was wearing off and Xander was starting to feel; there was a homicidal glint in the dark eyes and Buffy was ready to stand back and let him take the action if it meant he could work some of that fury off.

As her friend turned into the cemetery Buffy put out a hand to hold back Dawn and Angel.

“Give him some space.”

“But, what if…”

“It’s okay, Dawn.  We’re here if he needs us.”

Xander strolled through the old hunting ground, the casual body language a pretence that would encourage any stupid fledglings to take a chance.  He inspected the area: no sign of anything undead as yet.  He’d noticed Buffy keep the others back and he was grateful for her understanding.  After what Spike had told him…  The knowledge hit him again, kicked him harder than any demon he’d ever fought, and he was shattering, shattering inside.  ‘I tried to be strong.  For you.  …  Forgive me.’  A faint noise behind him and the upset transmuted into rage as he turned, stake in hand, ready for battle.  A startled tabby cat froze, Bart Simpson ‘I didn’t do it’ expression on its face.  Xander took a deep breath.

“Hey, cat.  Taking your life in your paws in this place.”

He crouched and the cat came nonchalantly to him, enduring a quick fuss with the typical feline attitude of really doing the fusser a favour.  Xander took another look around, eyes lighting on one of the older crypts.  He felt the familiarity: Spike’s home.  In the days when Spike could be beaten and broken and he’d just pick himself up and dust himself off, moan about a sore spot, not dive into the world of multiple personality vampire or beg Angel for help, cling to him.  He stood and walked to the crypt, letting the memories wash over him.

“Spike,” he whispered, the name lost in the still night air.  “Spike…”

Following well behind Xander, the group of three came to a halt.  In the distance they could see Xander, leant up against Spike’s old haunt, head on his arms, shoulders heaving with inaudible sobs.  For the second time Buffy caught Dawn’s arm to hold her back.

“He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Maybe he needs to be alone.”

“Yes.  This is his pain,” Angel agreed.

“We’re all hurting,” Dawn insisted as she wrenched her arm away from her sister.

“There is no comparison,” the vampire told her coldly.

“Spike is my friend.”

“And Xander’s life.”

They saw the first of the night’s vampires appear: it sensed an easy target and headed for Xander.

“Shouldn’t we..?” Angel asked.

“Uh-uh,” Buffy stopped him.  “You have to see new improved Xander to appreciate him.  Scary Xander.  You’ll like this.”

As the vampire approached Xander spun around, and the newly undead may have had a moment to reconsider his choice of victim when he saw the expression on the human’s face, but a moment was all it was.  Xander viciously lashed out, launching into an attack that the slayer would have been proud of.  In fact, as she observed, she was.  Buffy, Angel and Dawn watched, unmoving, as Xander toyed with the vampire, taking his time in killing it, using the persistent creature as a vent to let some hate out of his system.  Eventually the out-manoeuvred vampire realised fighting was pointless and chose to run: three strides and Xander’s stake ploughed through its back and into its heart.  A second fledgling appeared and chanced its luck, but Xander was in control of the encounter within seconds and despatched the vampire with the same brutal efficiency as he’s used on the first.

“Oh…God.”

“What?” Buffy asked her sister with concern.

Dawn’s attention was still fixed on Xander.

“He’s…different.”

“Yes.”

“Oh…God.”

“What?”

“Can I jump him right now?”

“What!”

“Right here, behind this wall?”

“No!  No jumping.”  Buffy took a hard look at Angel and found him studying her old friend admiringly.  She kicked him hard behind the knees and he buckled satisfyingly.  “No jumping.  No thinking about jumping.”  Buffy turned to call Xander, just as he leant back against an old tomb: staring at the skies, sad eyes twinkling in the moonlight, windswept and enigmatic…  Okay, she got it.  “Hey, Xander, come on.”

Xander took a deep, deep breath and started toward them; misery had bestowed a dark magnetism on this man and Buffy watched every step as he approached, long coat swirling open, unconsciously sexy gait that reflected the confidence of a man who knew he’d made it in life, honed body that he was no longer scared to show off in expensive clothes that both suited and fitted him to perfection.  She had to remind herself that this was Xander.  Xander Harris.  Who smiled a heart-breakingly fragile smile as he reached her.  Spike’s Xander.

“You should get back to Spike.  Take Dawn.  We’ll stay here for a while.”

“I won’t come back to Willow’s while you’re here,” Angel told him, trapping Xander in a handshake and holding on a little too long for the human’s comfort.  “Get Spike to give me a call when he’s…”

“Okay,” Xander agreed readily, saving Angel the trouble of finding the right word.  He looked into the vampire’s eyes and saw the distinct glint of madness there: he wouldn’t want to be anything getting in Angel’s way tonight.

Buffy leant up for a hug and a kiss, laughing because of the stretch to deal with the extra height caused by the boots.

“Fashion victim,” she and Xander said together, and they parted with a smile.

…

At the house Xander left Dawn talking in the kitchen with Willow and went into the living room, finding William exactly where the watcher had told him he would: fast sleep on the sofa, elegantly sprawled with one arm hanging over the edge of the cushions.  Xander knelt by him, enjoying the feeling of serenity before taking a hold of the hand attached to the wayward arm and playing with the long, pale fingers.  The vampire’s eyes flickered open, meeting Xander’s with a flood of affection.

“Xander.”

“Hey, honey.”

William’s expression suddenly changed to one of alarm and he sat up abruptly.

“Angelus?”

“Angel’s not here.  He won’t be back.”

William relaxed again with a weary sigh, reaching out and touching Xander’s face with tender caresses.

“You have been weeping.”

“I guess.”

William leant forward and kissed Xander’s eyelids, deliberately, one after the other.

“You must not cry.”

“Maybe I wanted to cry.”

“For our poor demon’s pain?”

“His pain.  Your pain.  Your lost innocence.”  Xander couldn’t control the faint tremor in his voice and William shushed and comforted him, pulling him into his arms and holding him as tightly as he could without damaging him.  “I’m sorry you had to face Angel.  I didn’t realise, I don’t think Spike realised…”

“Hush, Xander.  On consideration I concluded that I have much to thank Angelus for.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It was quite remarkable that I survived his…attentions during our early years.”

“And you have to thank him for that?” Xander asked bitterly.

“Yes.  For by comparison, the creatures who violated us more recently were…amateur.”

Xander edged back and looked at William, seeing the sincerity.  It made dreadful sense.

“You mean…you got through six months of sustained torture because it wasn’t a patch on what that—  What Angelus could do?”

“He taught us to endure the unendurable.  He made us strong enough to surmount unimaginable cruelty.  He made us resilient enough to find you, Alexander, and for that alone I will be eternally grateful.  I use the word eternally advisedly,” he smiled.

Another long, sad hug before William grasped upon a timely change of subject.

“This residue on your coat.  One of Spike’s kind?”

Xander nodded.

“Two.  Do you care that I dusted some vampires?”

“If I do not object to Spike killing humans, why would I frown upon you killing demons?”

Xander gave a tired shrug.

“I’m beat, can we go to bed?”

“Gladly.”

Xander reluctantly leaned back from William’s embrace, grudging every second that he wouldn’t be in close contact with the vampire, regardless of who was minding the shop.  He gazed into the steady blue eyes, wishing he had a fraction of the tranquillity he saw there.

“You dealing with this?”

“I think not.  I am…anxious, I confess.  I say it again: this is not my place.”

“You want what you had?  Isn’t it like being – I don’t know – imprisoned?”

“What I have experienced, you cannot imagine, Xander.  I have seen unfold events in history that thrilled me, times that made me rejoice, shared moments that a mortal could not comprehend but would willingly relinquish his independence for if he had but a taste.  And I have been cherished.”

“Spike hates you.”

“No.  He hates his vulnerability.  We will move beyond that.  We will be restored.”

“Then I lose you.”

William gave a short laugh.

“Your devotion is overwhelming and misplaced.”

“You know I love you?”

William tilted his head and touched his lips to Xander’s, letting the human make the kiss a more substantial thing, indulging him for several minutes before easing away.

“Bless you.”

On their way to bed and they found Willow leaning in the doorway.

“Dawn went.  Said to say bye, so, ‘Bye’.”

“And Xander says, ‘Bye, Dawnie’.”

“Xander, can I speak to you?”

“Not about what Spike told us, because I’m not up to that.  Scared to think about it, let alone talk.”

“None of us are up to that,” Willow assured Xander.

Xander sent William ahead and went into the kitchen with Willow, sitting in the chair she indicated, smothering a yawn as he waited for her to talk.

“Passing out in five, Wills.”

“He’s extraordinary: William.”

“Yeah.”  But he’s not Spike, my Spike, my precious, butchered Spike.

“I’m glad I got to meet him.  Because if I hadn’t I don’t think it would ever have seemed real even if you told me all about it and I don’t mean that I wouldn’t have believed you it would just be…”

“What is it, Willow?” Xander called a halt to the babble.

Willow Rosenberg building-up-to-something-you-won’t-like pause.

“Xander…what Angel said earlier.”

“Which part?”

“About you…claiming…”

“I don’t – can’t discuss that with you.”

“Yes, you can!  We’re both adults, we both know what’s involved.”

“This is…”  Xander took a deep breath, raised his hands in submission.  “What did you want to know?”

“I wanted to be sure you’d do it.  You were worried about hurting Spike, but I understand about claiming and this would be very important to him.  It might hurt him more if you don’t.”

“Okay: adult answer?  Actually pretty desperate to fuck the boyfriend whatever the excuse.  Immediate problem: no Spike.”

“I saw you with William, he loves you, he’d…”

“No way.  You have no idea of the dynamics between Spike and William.  Spike is obsessively jealous of William and will find a way to punish him if I get anything wrong.  Besides, it’s Spike that needs claiming, not William.”

Willow took a long, hard look at her traumatised friend and felt guilty for badgering him.

“And what do you need?”

“Twelve hours sleep and the distinct possibility of not having the rest of this conversation tomorrow.”  A sudden grin broke through.  “Chance of a good claiming if the right guy gets flung out of the revolving door.”  The grin was short-lived.  “Just want him back, Wills.  Want to make it all better for him.”

Willow took Xander’s hand, rubbing it between her own, very deliberately changed the subject.

“Dawn was telling me about the cemetery.  You in the cemetery.”

“Bawling or dusting?”

“Both.  Seems you got her pretty hot and bothered.”

“Not that my ego’s putting up much of a fight, but do I really need to know this?”

“Just wanted to say I wish I’d been there.  Long time since I got hot and bothered.”

Xander reached into his pocket with his free hand, finding and offering Willow his cell phone.

“What?”

“Five minute fix?  Passed a particular van on the way into town.”

“You mean…he’s here?”

Xander gave Willow a knowing look, leant over and kissed her cheek.

“See you tomorrow.  Try not to wake us up with the snarling and howling.  And tell Oz to keep it down too.”

…

Xander crawled into bed, spooning his body behind the reassuring form of William with a contented groan.  He wanted comfort; he wanted not to think, especially not to know; he wanted Spike and claiming and being claimed.  Not going to happen, Harris, get used to it.  Scattering a dozen kisses on the nape of the vampire’s neck, Xander whispered:

“Spike.  Spike, I love you.”

“He knows,” came the sleepy reply.

Xander burrowed closer and, thanks to William’s determined refusal to acknowledge the unsubtle erection pressing against his jogger-clad buttocks, nothing that Spike could object to occurred.  Thankfully, sleep eventually came, even if Xander didn’t.

Repossession 22       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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