Unforgiven, Too

 

"Come on, luv," Spike cajoled.  "Give her a chance, yeah?  Da will be there, too.  I know you can't understand why she did it, or how she felt - "

 

"You're wrong, Spike. I know how it feels to be alone, to not have anyone to lean on.  To face the prospect of raising a child by yourself when you have no idea what you're doing."  Xander stood, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and looking away.  "That's *why* I can't understand why she did it."

 

"I'm sorry, Xan."  Spike took a step forward but Xander backed out of his reach.

 

"Let's go then.  Bran's excited to see them again.  If nothing else he deserves to have some family, doesn't he?"  Xander asked, voice brittle.  "I've never let him near Willow's parents, and fuck all, if I'll let Anthony or Jessica near him."

"What about Willow's bloke?  Haven't his parents asked to see Bran?"  Spike wondered aloud.

 

"They're dead.  When he was a kid, I guess.  He told us he was raised in an orphanage for boys."

 

Spike nodded.  "Then you're right, luv.  Joyce made mistakes, Xan, but she's got love in her.  She'll love Bran, if you'll let her."

 

Xander nodded, going down the hall to fetch Bran from his room.

 

"She could love you, too, if you'd let her," Spike whispered under his breath.  "So could I."

 

***

 

They arrived at the house to find Giles and Joyce in the middle of having tea.  Apparently they did this at least once a week, a reminder to Giles of his home, and time for the two of them to just get together. 

 

"'ello, da, Joyce."  He nodded at them both, leaning down to allow Joyce to kiss his cheek.

 

"Would you like some tea, Will?  Xander?"  Giles asked, reaching for he refreshments.

 

"No, thank you."  Xander answered gruffly, but he caught Bran looking at him pleadingly.  "Maybe Bran could have a cookie, though."

 

Bran threw his arms around Xander's leg.  "Thanks, daddy!  I love you!"

 

Xander laughed and ruffled Bran's hair.  "You love me 'cause I give you cookies?"

 

"No, silly!  I love you 'cause you're my daddy!"  Bran was happily munching on his cookie.  "Miss Burkle says that you're 'opposed to love your family."  Bran nodded sagely at his dad.

 

Xander looked up at Joyce, who smiled tentatively at him.  He shook his head before turning away.  What did she want from him?  Bran was right, you *are* supposed to love your family.  So why hadn't she loved him?

 

"Is Miss Burkle your teacher, honey?"  Joyce asked.

 

"Yeah, she's super smart.  She knows everything about everything!"  Bran threw his arms wide.

 

"I'm sure she does," Joyce smiled then patted the seat next to her on the couch.  "Would you like to come sit with me, Bran?"

 

When Bran looked to him, Xander smiled and nodded.  Bran threw one last hug around Xander's leg before bouncing over to Joyce and sitting beside her with a cookie-crumb grin on his face. 

 

Xander remained standing awkwardly, not really feeling part of the scene before him.  Joyce sat on the couch speaking softly with Bran, who was laughing and stuffing cookies in his mouth.  Giles sat on the armchair watching the two, sipping a cup of tea and smiling softly.  Behind Giles stood Spike, his hands resting on the back of the armchair as he leaned forward slightly to speak with his father.

 

The whole thing reminded Xander of some old Norman Rockwell painting of life, family, and love.  Except he wasn't part of the painting.  He was a spectator, watching from somewhere outside the warm circle of the fire.  And he felt cold.  Unconsciously he crossed his arms atop his chest in order to keep the rest of the world out.  Or maybe to keep what little warmth he had left in.

 

For years Xander had focused entirely on Bran.  He hadn't let himself think about what else was missing from his life.  And he'd been extraordinarily lucky to have Bran.  Bran, who loved him unconditionally, Xander chuckled softly to himself.  Whether he gave him cookies or not.  Having Bran with him was what had kept him going all these years without Willow.

 

Xander remembered thinking of Spike as the man who had 'crashed' into his life.  And that was exactly what it felt like.  From the moment Xander had opened that door his life had changed, irrevocably altered.

 

Xander slipped silently away, through the kitchen, and out the back door.  He sat on the porch step, just staring out at the trees surrounding Joyce's backyard.  He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he heard the back door creak open.  He was expecting Spike and was surprised when he heard Joyce speak.  "May I sit?" she asked, indicating the step he occupied.

 

He nodded reluctantly, wondering why she was out here with him, rather than inside.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," he apologized. 

 

"No, of course not," Joyce dismissed the apology.  "It's peaceful out here, isn't it?  I come out often to sit and think."  She took the spot next to him, hugging her knees close to her chest.  They were quiet for a long while, just sitting together, listening to the various sounds around them.  Finally Joyce spoke, breaking the silent war between them.

 

"When Buffy first got sick, I thought a lot about you."

 

"I know.  You needed a match.  I'm here, aren't I?"  Xander interrupted.

 

"No.  I mean, yes, but that wasn't until later, until recently.  I meant that I thought about *you*, worried about you, really.  I didn't know much about leukemia back then, and no one seems to be definitive on the actual causes anyway.  And I thought, God, does my baby boy have it, too?"  Xander was surprised to hear a slight tremor in Joyce's voice.

 

"Are you trying to tell me that, when Buffy, the daughter you raised, was diagnosed with a terminal illness, you thought of me?"  Xander couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

 

"Of course I worried and cried and prayed for Buffy every night.  But, yes, Xander, I did think of you as well.  I've thought about you since the moment I gave you up.  I've prayed every day since that I'd done the right thing and that you would be happy, and healthy, and loved," Joyce insisted.

 

"Guess, God doesn't like you very much."

 

"Oh, Xander."  Joyce's eyes misted over.  "But don't you see?  He *does*.  He brought you back here to us.  He put Bran in your life.  And He got you away from those people - "

 

"I got myself away from them!"  Xander stood abruptly, anger sweeping his features.

 

"Xander, I'm sorry," Joyce whispered through the tears that now fell.  "I wish I could go back and change what I did 25 years ago, but I can't!"

 

"I know."  As quickly as it had filled him the anger fled.  In its place was nothing, just an aching emptiness in the pit of his stomach.  "I...I think we better go."  Xander turned and walked back toward the door, grasping the knob in his hand.  Without turning back he addressed her one last time.  "I'm trying, Joyce."

 

***

 

After his talk with Joyce Xander hadn't wanted to stay any longer.  Xander refused to tell Spike what had occurred out on the back porch, and asked instead if Spike could drive them home.  Spike agreed though he was reluctant to leave for his appointment once he'd dropped them off.  Xander insisted that everything was fine, and that he would only feel guilty if Spike missed his meeting.

 

Just yesterday Xander had finally asked Spike what it was he did for a living, since he didn't seem to have any sort of set work schedule.  He was shocked to find that Spike was actually one of the few science fiction authors that Xander himself enjoyed reading.  He only had three books published so far, but all had been well received, if not bestseller material.  And the royalties were enough to live comfortably on while he worked on his next one. Spike was currently out meeting with his publisher.

 

"Are you okay, daddy?"  Bran asked, watching his father walk across the room to sit beside him.  "You look sad.  Why are you sad, daddy?"

 

"I'm okay, buddy."  Xander leaned down to kiss Bran's cheek.  "Just tired."

"I love you, daddy."  Bran waited to see the smile that his daddy always had for whenever he said that.  When he got it, he bounced up and hugged his daddy around the waist.  "Did seeing Joyce make you sad?  We don't have to go back if it makes you sad," Bran assured him.

 

"Thank you, Bran."  Xander hugged him close.  "Don't worry about me, okay?  Everything's fine," he reassured his son.

 

Bran wasn't sure he believed his daddy, but he nodded his head in agreement anyway because he thought that was what his daddy wanted.  "If you're okay then, daddy, is it okay for me to go play in your room?"

 

"Sure, Bran."  He swatted the little boy on the butt as he scampered out of reach.

 

Spike said he would pick up something for dinner on the way back, so not to worry about making anything or ordering in.  Xander checked his watch.  He still had a few hours before Spike was due back, so he figured he'd get in a quick nap.  The last few days had left him exhausted, and constantly feeling drained.  He walked down the hall and poked his head in on Bran.  The boy was oblivious.  Sitting cross legged in front of the television, controller in hand, Bran's attention was on the race car zooming down the road.  Xander smiled softly at the back of his son's head before continuing down the corridor toward Bran's room.

 

Before lying down he clicked on the radio, tuning it to the same station that Spike had had on during their ride home the other night.  He put the volume on low and then slipped his shoes off.  He lay on his back, thinking about the conversation he'd had with Joyce.  Thinking about his feelings for Spike.  About how pale and fragile Buffy looked in the hospital. 

 

How had all this happened so fast?  One minute his life was chugging along like clockwork.  He had work, he had Bran; he had a routine.  And now he had a 'sister', a 'mother', and, well...Spike.  Xander thought about the Harrises; thought about his life growing up, meeting Willow, and then raising Bran.  Sometimes it seemed to him as if his life had happened to someone else entirely; as if he knew the details because he'd seen the movie, or read the book.  Xander fell asleep with thoughts of his life playing through his head like the rerun of a bad television show.

 

***

 

Spike came in, his arms laden down with bags.  He'd stopped at the Thai restaurant down the street for dinner, hoping that Bran and Xander would enjoy the cuisine.  So far he hadn't come across any food that either of them had refused to eat, but he assumed there had to be something they didn't like.  Spike just hoped that it wasn't Thai.  He'd just laid the bags down on the kitchen table when he heard Xander's strangled scream.  Spike dropped everything else and ran. 

 

Bran reached his father before Spike could; the boy was already in the room, his arms around his dad when Spike arrived.  "It's okay, daddy," Bran soothed.  "I'm here now, daddy.  It's okay."

 

Xander was shaking, his hair mussed from sleep, sweat dripping from his forehead.  He'd obviously had a nightmare, and from the looks of it Bran was used to dealing with the consequences.  The idea of a seven year old boy comforting his father out of a nightmare was so poignant that Spike had to blink the moisture from his eyes.

 

"Thanks, buddy, I'm okay."  Xander kissed Bran's forehead, holding him close for a moment before pushing him away.  "Don't worry, Bran.  Daddy's fine.  Just a nightmare, okay?  You can go back to your game, okay, buddy?"

 

"Are you sure, daddy?"  Bran asked, a worried look gracing his face.  "Do you want me to lie down with you while you sleep?  I could keep the monsters away."

 

Spike watched as Xander's lip quivered but no tears fell.  Xander reached out again, bringing Bran back for a tight hug.  "I love you, Bran."  He sighed out the words.  "Thank you, buddy, but I don't think I’m going back to sleep right now.  It's almost time for dinner anyway, so why don't you go play for a bit until I call, okay?"

 

"Okay, daddy, I love you, too."  Bran tilted his head up and bussed Xander on the cheek before turning to leave.

 

Xander finally looked up to acknowledge Spike's presence.  "So you got back in time to see the show, huh?"  He stood, making his way across the room to the small bathroom adjacent.  After throwing some cool water on his face he toweled off, checking his haggard features in the mirror.  He could see Spike leaning on the door frame behind him, trying to look casual.

 

"Have nightmares often, luv?"

 

"Often enough."

 

"Does Bran - "

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it, okay?"  Xander cut him off.  He fussed with the towel for a moment, folding and straightening it on the rack before turning around.  "Did you get anything for dinner?"

 

Spike recognized Xander's obvious need for a change of subject.  "Yeah, Xan.  Thai, I wasn't sure if it would be okay.  If it isn't we could always order pizza."

 

"No, Bran loves Thai.  I hope you got Phad Thai, it's his favorite."  Xander eased past him and through the door.  Spike followed him back to the kitchen and watched as Xander got out plates and silverware, setting the table.  The busy work seemed to be calming Xander down, so Spike let him continue.  Xander pulled down several small serving bowls and distributed the food among them.  Before calling Bran, he put some Phad Thai noodles, barbecue, and a spring roll on his plate.

 

Bran came running at his name, his face beaming when he saw their dinner.  "Thai! Yay!"  Bran sat immediately, looking up at Xander.  "Thank you for my noodles, daddy!"

 

Xander smiled.  "You're welcome, buddy.  Don't eat too fast, okay?"

 

"Mphky," Bran answered, his mouth full.

 

Spike and Xander sat as well, filling their own plates with different dishes.  The meal was eaten mostly in silence, only Bran's occasional babble interrupting.

 

"Okay, Bran, go brush your teeth.  You can stay up for another hour, then it's off to bed," Xander instructed.

 

After brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas, Bran came back out to the living room where Xander and Spike were sitting on the sofa watching the news.  "Daddy, will you play with me?"

 

"Sure, buddy, what do you want to play?"

 

"Is Will going to play, too?"  Bran asked, his eyes darting towards Spike.

 

"Would you like me to play, bit?"  Spike asked, leaning forward in his seat.

 

"Yes.  Please?"  Bran asked, puppy dog eyes to the fore.

 

"'course, luv.  If you like.  What's it to be then?"

 

"Pirates!"  Bran was enthusiastic about his choice.  He'd already procured the umbrella he'd found in the closet of his room as his sword.

 

Both men followed Bran back to his room with bemused looks.  They were to be his first and second mates on the ship (his bed) as they sailed the atlantis ocean looking for lost treasure and ghost ships.  When they reached Bran's room they all climbed aboard the 'ship' and Bran began issuing orders.  Bran threw a towel at Spike ordering, "Swab the deck!"

 

Obediently Spike saluted and answered with an, "Aye, aye, captain!"  Before taking the towel and swirling it around atop the bed spread.  Xander watched, feeling just another bit of the protective wall he'd built around his heart crumble at the sight.

 

"Don't just stand there, daddy!"  Bran pleaded.  "Look for *land*."  He emphasized the last word in a harsh whisper.

 

"Oh, sorry, buddy.  I mean, captain!  Aye, aye, captain!"  Xander saluted and obediently began searching the area for land.  Every few minutes he'd point and call out, "land ho!" Just to hear Bran giggle.

 

Finally Bran was yawning left and right, so Xander put a stop to the fun and ordered Bran under the blankets.  Xander tucked him in snugly then kissed his forehead.  "Goodnight, buddy."

 

"Thanks for playing, daddy," Bran said sincerely.  "Is Will going to kiss me goodnight, too?"

 

Xander smiled and stepped aside, giving Spike a questioning look.  The blond stepped up without hesitation and leaned down to give Bran a goodnight kiss on the cheek.  "Sweet dreams, luv."

 

"Thanks, Will.  You make a good second mate."  Bran answered sleepily, eyes already drifting shut.

 

Spike and Xander tiptoed out of the room, shutting off the light as they went.  They left the door cracked open so that the light from the hall filtered in, just in case Bran woke in the middle of the night.

 

"Thanks, Spike."  Xander stopped in the hall outside his room.  "I really appreciate you taking time out to play with Bran like that."

 

"No worries, luv.  Bran's a good little bit," Spike assured him.  Spike wanted to broach the subject of Xander's nightmare again, but just then the phone rang.  He shrugged apologetically before hurrying down the hall to answer.

 

Xander sighed.  Immediately upon entering his room he set to cleaning up Bran's latest exploits.  Once the Playstation was properly stored and the games reshelved on the entertainment center, Xander turned down his bed.  He turned the radio on the clock radio on, again searching for the station that he'd been listening to earlier in Bran's room.

 

He stripped down to his boxers and slid under the covers.  It was early but he still hadn't fully recovered from his earlier nightmare and so, instead of reinvigorating him, his nap had only drained him further.  The music played softly around him and he tried to focus on the sounds rather than the thoughts swirling through his head.

 

When the soft knock sounded he sat up in bed and called out, "Come in."  He'd expected Bran, but Spike stood on the other side of the door instead.  Xander was up and at his side before he knew what happened, wiping the tears off Spike's cheek.  "What happened?"

 

Then Spike smiled, the grin lighting up his face, his blue eyes sparkling.  "Joyce just called.  You're a match, Xan."  Spike threw his arms around Xander and hugged him close.  "Thank God."  Spike sobbed the words, his whole frame shaking with the force.

 

Xander patted Spike's back awkwardly.  He was glad that he'd be able to help, really, he was.  But he wasn't sure how he felt about Spike's display of emotion.  "What...what happens now?"

 

Spike pulled away from him in order to look him in the eye while he spoke.  "Well, luv, they'll give her the radiation treatment tomorrow afternoon.  Joyce, da, and I are all going to see her beforehand.  They have to keep her isolated afterwards for about 3 months.  The treatment leaves her without much of an ability to fight off disease, so...  If you and Bran would like to come, I'm sure she'd like that."

 

Xander nodded, knowing that it would be good for Bran to see her one more time if he wasn't going to be allowed near her for at least another 3 months.  Who knew if they would even be able to come back to Sunnydale at that time?

 

"Great, luv."  Spike beamed at him.  "You're scheduled to donate the day after that, and then they'll actually do the procedure on Friday."

 

"That's Christmas."

 

Spike started, of course it was!  He'd forgotten all about the holiday coming up.  "Well, what a lovely pressie that'll be, don't you think?"  And then Spike realized that all Xander was wearing was a pair of boxers, and he blushed, looking away.

 

Xander quirked an eyebrow at him, after all, Spike had already seen him completely naked at the club.  "I was just going to bed.  Thanks for letting me know."  Xander turned back toward the bed.  "Could you close the door on your way out?"

 

Spike watched Xander walk away from him, not so soft sounds coming from the radio playing in the background.  "You sleep with the radio on, Xan?"

 

"Usually, is that a problem?"

 

"No, luv.  Just wondering why?"

 

"I like the noise, it gives me something to focus on.  Helps me sleep."  Xander shrugged, deciding to slip under the covers in a subtle hint to Spike to leave.

 

"And if you don't have anything else to focus on, Xan?  What do you think of?  Why can't you sleep?"  Spike asked, moving into the room and over to Xander's bed.  When Xander looked toward the blank wall of his room instead of answering, Spike sat on the bed, forcing Xander to acknowledge his presence.

 

"It's not all the time.  But, some memories just don't go away, you know?"

 

Spike reached out one hand, covering Xander's on the blanket, the other cupping Xander's chin to force their eyes to meet.  "Tell me about your nightmare, Xan."

 

"It was just a dream, Spike.  It doesn't matter."  Xander tried to pull away from Spike but he held fast.

 

"It does matter, luv.  You were dreaming about them, weren't you?  About one of the memories that just won't go away?"  Spike prompted.  "Don't shut me out, luv, please."  Spike pulled him closer, shifting on the bed until his back was to the blank wall and he could hold Xander to his side.  "This thing *isn't* crazy.  *We* aren't crazy, luv.  Give us a chance, yeah?"

 

Xander desperately wanted to.  He felt warm and safe in Spike's arms and he wanted to know that the feeling wasn't fleeting.  He wanted the feeling to be real.  The words to another Metallica song, Unforgiven II, flitted through his mind briefly.

 

~~~

Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I wanna hear, to make my demons run
The door is locked now, but it's opened if you're true
If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you
~~~

 

Could Spike make his demons run?  And could he trust Spike with the knowledge it would take for that to happen?  For Spike to truly know his demons?

 

"I...I was dreaming about the day I finally left the Harrises for good."  Xander shuddered at the memory.  Spike held him closer, wrapping his arms tight around Xander's middle and laying his palms gently on Xan's abdomen.  Xander sighed and leaned into Spike; resting his head against Spike's shoulder, he continued his story. 

 

"I had met a guy.  I was about seventeen, he was the new kid in school.  Had an accent and everything, he'd just moved from Ireland.  I thought it was cool."  Xander burrowed deeper into Spike's arms the further he got into his story.  "I'd never been attracted to a guy before.  I didn't know I was gay, or that the reason I wasn't really interested in sleeping with Anya, my girlfriend, was because of that.  But I started spending a lot of time with him, Doyle.  And then one day he kissed me."

 

This time Xander's sigh was wistful, remembering that first tentative kiss, and the way that Doyle had looked at him so shyly afterward.  "I broke up with Anya.  Probably a really shitty thing to do, but I couldn't help it.  I started spending even more time with Doyle.  We got closer, and he started asking why we never went to my house, why he never met my parents.  I couldn't tell him.  Didn't want him to know."  Xander's voice hitched.

 

"Then one day he surprised me.  The doorbell rang and I answered and he was there.  He smiled, and leaned in to kiss me.  I tried to pull back, but it was too late. Our lips brushed and when he pulled back he looked hurt and confused at my reaction.  But before I could say anything Anthony was there.  I tried to yell, to warn Doyle, but Anthony grabbed him, pulled him into the house."  Xander wiped at the tears running down his cheeks.

 

"He punched Doyle hard, until he fell onto his knees.  Then he kicked him in the stomach.  Anthony kept yelling about fags and fairies and kicking.  I tried to stop him, I tried to punch him back, but he was still bigger than me.  He hit me and I went down.  I could taste blood in my mouth, and all I could do was watch him beat Doyle."  Xander was shivering in Spike's arms.  Spike shifted again so that they were now both under the covers and their bodies were flush against one another.  He rubbed his hands up and down Xander's arms and spoke soft words of comfort.

 

"Doyle was pretty bad, they ended up taking him to the hospital after Anthony dumped him in the park.  The next day I packed a bag and left.  I stopped to see Doyle, wanted him to come with me, wanted to apologize, I don't know.  But Doyle didn't want to see me.  When I got in his room, he refused to talk, except to say he wasn't going to report it.  He didn’t want the world to know he was gay and that he'd been beaten because of it."

 

"Oh, luv, I'm so sorry," Spike whispered, unable to resist kissing the crown of Xander's head.

 

"I haven't seen the Harrises since."  Xander shrugged.  "I don't ever want to again."

 

They were silent for a while, Spike just holding Xander, the radio playing in the background.  Xander was surprised to find the song that had flitted through his head playing.  Maybe that's why he'd thought of the lyrics, it had already been playing when he started his story.  It felt like hours since he'd first begun to speak, but it was probably only minutes.  The last of the song played through, filling the silence around them.

 

~~~

Lay beside me, tell me what I've done
The door is closed, so are your eyes
But now I see the sun, now I see the sun
Yes, now I see it

What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you

What I've felt, what I've known
So sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there, cause I'm the one who waits
The one who waits for you

Oh, what I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you
So I dub thee unforgiven

Oh, what I've felt
Oh, what I've known

I take this key
And I bury it in you
Because you're unforgiven too
~~~

 

"Spike?"

 

"Yeah, Xan?"

 

"Could you stay?  I mean, just like this?  Until I fall asleep?"

 

Spike tightened his hold.  "Yeah, luv.  I'll stay."