Homeward Bound

 

Xander felt numb.  He'd meant to go to Bran's room, to check on his son, some irrational fear making him think that Bran might feel just as devastated as he did.  Though he realized before he reached the door that there was no way Bran could be aware of any of Spike's feelings.  If Xander had been fooled, Bran wouldn't have been able to see the truth any clearer.

 

So he continued on until he reached his own room, guest room, shutting the door quietly behind him.  He left the lights off and the curtains closed.  Dim light filtered through drapes but left most of the room dark.  Which suited Xander fine, as that was exactly how he was feeling: dark, disillusioned, devastated. 

 

He berated himself as he sat wiping at the tears.  What had he said?  What had he warned himself against?  And then to just blatantly ignore his own advice... Now who was going to be hurt?  Not just Xander, but Bran as well.  Xander flogged himself internally for having done the one thing he swore never to do; compromise Bran's happiness.

 

He hadn't been careful at all.  The lure of his own happiness, of finding someone who cared, overshadowed his normally cautious nature.  Selfish!  He selfishly chose to put himself and Bran at risk, just for the chance, for the possibility, that Spike might've loved them.  Anthony Harris had been right; he *was* a selfish fucking bastard, always screwing up.

 

Xander stood and began packing his bag.  They had to leave.  It would only get worse if they stayed.  Bran would get even more attached.  Xander rubbed at a sore spot on his chest.  Jesus!  This hurt worse than Doyle refusing to see him, or the first time Anthony called him a little dumb shit.  At least then he'd had an expectation of rejection, an idea that pain was imminent.

 

Xander sat heavily on the end of his bed.  They would be wondering where he was soon, coming to check on him.  He'd have to explain, have to tell them they were leaving.  What would he say?  The truth?  Spike hadn't meant to hurt him.  Spike had said he cared for them both.  Just.  Not.  Enough.

 

Was it really Spike's fault that he couldn't love them?  Anthony had always told him that he was worthless, that no one could love him.  Xander had thought he'd been wrong.  Willow had loved him.  Had trusted him enough to leave him Bran.  And Xander knew that Bran loved him unquestionably as well.  But now Willow was dead.  And Bran was soon to be hurt, and would probably blame Xander.  As well he should. 

 

Xander stood at the loud knock on his door, still trying to figure out what to say as the door swung open.  "Spike, I - "

 

"Xan, luv," Spike was agitated and upset.  "Hospital called.  Buffy's not doing well.  Something about rejection.  Not taking to your donation, I think."  There were tears in Spike's eyes. 

 

Xander reached for his hand automatically and squeezed in comfort.  At Xander's touch Spike moved into his embrace, molding his body around the other man's.  Xander wrapped his arms around Spike, hugging him and rubbing soothing circles on his back.

 

"What did the doctor say?  What are her chances of recovering?"  Xander asked, tentatively.

 

"They don't know, luv.  Nobody knows why it happens.  Dr. Calendar said it could go either way."  Spike nuzzled closer to Xander.  "Can't lose her, luv.  Can't."

 

"I know, Spike."  Xander kept rubbing a warm palm against Spike's back.  "I know."  It hurt to see Spike in so much pain.  Whether Spike loved him or not, at that moment Xander had to admit to himself that he loved Spike. 

 

They stayed close for a minute before Spike pulled away.  "Joyce and Giles are going - "

 

"You go with them."  Xander pushed at Spike, urging him back down the hallway.  "Bran and I will stay here."  He steeled himself against Spike's pleading look for company.  "I think Bran might be scared if we all go down to the hospital together.  It'll be hard to explain to him what's happening since none of us really know for sure.  Don't want to give him nightmares or anything.  Don't worry.  I'll stay with him."  Xander winced as he realized he'd given Spike another excuse not to want Bran around, but shrugged internally.  Doesn't matter, they'll be gone soon enough.

 

Spike gave him one last look before asking, "You sure, luv?"

 

"More than."  Xander nods, then he can't help himself, he pulls Spike close once more.  They kiss, softly at first, but then Xander deepens it.  Wanting one last taste, one last caress.  Finally Xander let him go.  "Go on, they're waiting."  And he pushed Spike down the hall back toward Giles and Joyce.  "I'll see you soon."  He almost choked on the words, but got them out.  He watched until Spike disappeared around a corner.  Then he turned back toward Bran's room to explain why they had to leave and why Bran wouldn't get to say goodbye to his new friends before they did.

 

***

 

They arrived at the hospital quickly, rushing up to the fifth floor cancer ward.  Dr. Calendar met them and explained that Buffy was showing signs of rejection, that it wasn't critical yet, but there was a chance that she could reject the transplant completely. 

 

A rush of tears filled Spike's eyes and he ached to have Xander with him, to be able to turn to the other man for comfort, for warmth.  He felt incredibly cold.  The thought of not having Buffy in this world, of Buffy *dying* making him shiver and hug himself tightly around the waist.

 

He turned to find Joyce in Giles' arms, giving each other the comfort he had just been wishing for himself.  She was crying softly against his da's shoulder.  So Spike pushed against his own pain, standing straighter, schooling his face, wanting to be strong for Joyce, and for da.

 

"She's going to be fine, luv," Spike assured her, with a conviction he didn't entirely feel.

 

Joyce nodded, and burrowed deeper into Giles' embrace.

 

And they waited.

 

***

 

Xander smoothed Bran's unruly hair off his forehead, making sure not to awaken him.  They'd been in the air for nearly an hour, Bran having fallen asleep almost immediately.  It was late, and though Bran was excited he'd only gone to sleep after Xander had promised that he'd wake him before landing, so that he could see all the lights.

 

He looked past his sleeping son and out into the dark night, wondering what Spike was doing, how Buffy was, what everyone would think once they found them gone.  He'd left a note, of course.  He wasn't stealing away into the night, after all, they'd known he had to go home sometime, right?

 

He had to keep telling himself that he'd done the right thing.  What else could he do?  If Spike couldn’t accept Bran in his life on a permanent basis, then what more was there to say?  Bran was Xander's life.  And anyone Xander wanted to be with had to accept that.

 

When he'd told Bran they had to leave, the little boy had looked crestfallen.  Bran had asked whether Spike would be coming with them, and Xander had to break the news that he wouldn't.  It had nearly broken Xander's heart when Bran's face had scrunched up in confusion and hurt.  And then in a small voice Bran had asked, "doesn't he like us anymore?"  Xander had to grab him up and hug him close, just so that his son wouldn't see the moisture in his eyes.

 

"Of course he does, buddy," Xander had answered earnestly.  "He just has some things he needs to take care of here.  Remember Buffy?  How sick she is?  Well, Spike has to stay with her for awhile, okay?"

 

Bran had nodded into his shoulder.  "Will he come to visit after?"

 

Sighing heavily, Xander lied.  "Yeah, Bran.  He will."

 

Then they had packed their bags and left.

 

***

 

The waiting was abominable.  More than once Spike had picked up his cell phone and begun to dial home, wanting to hear Xander's voice.  But each time, he'd stopped himself, not wanting to wake his lover.  Or worse, make Xander feel like Spike was becoming too dependent.  What would Xander say if he knew that Spike was in love with him?  Spike shook his head.

 

It still felt weird to admit it.  The fact that he loved Xander, another man.  A man he'd only known for a little over a week.  But at the same time, it felt right.  The feelings that Xander evoked weren't anything like what Spike had felt in previous relationships.  He wanted to protect Xander, to see Xander smile, to make Xander laugh.  And wrapped around it all, was his physical attraction to the dark haired man, and Spike's need to have Xander want all those things for him in return.

 

And Bran, God, how could anyone not love Bran?  The boy was sweetness and innocence personified.  And that's what scared Spike the most.  What if he messed up?  What if he soured that sweetness?  He wouldn't be able to live with himself.  He didn't know anything about raising children.  No matter what da said, there had to be more to it than just loving them.

 

Fuck!  Where the hell was the doctor?  Spike stood and began pacing the room, growling at his da when the other man tried to pacify him.  He checked his watch again, nearly three in the morning.  He spun at the sound of the double doors swishing open, Dr. Calendar striding through.

 

Joyce was already standing, his da at her side.  Spike joined them, standing at Joyce's other side to lend support.  Dr. Calendar regarded them all, neutral expression on her face.

 

"Buffy is stabilized.  The early signs of rejection seem to have arrested.  Cells are grafting with no visible signs of difficulty."  Dr. Calendar gave them all a reassuring smile.  "You should go home.  Get some rest.  We'll call you if there are any changes."

 

Joyce was crying quietly, white knuckled grip on Giles' forearm.  "Shhh, luv.  She's fine.  You heard the doctor," Giles reassured her, petting her hair and drawing her close.  He kissed her forehead gently before pressing her face to his chest.

 

"Why don’t you go on home, son."  Giles spoke gently.  "I'll take care of Joyce."

 

Spike nodded absently, torn between wanting to go home to Xander and wanting to stay to insure that Buffy truly was still alive.  In the end he kissed Joyce, hugged his da, and headed home.

 

***

 

Xander tucked Bran in, his son too exhausted from the flight to even ask for his normal bedtime story.  Xander leant forward to kiss his sleeping son's cheek before stepping away and turning down the lights.  He made sure that Bran's Captain America night-light was glowing faintly before closing the door.

 

He made his way back to the living room, and flopped down heavily onto the couch.  Xander looked around at his sofa, his coffee table, his television; all the things that he'd collected over the years.  He dry washed his face with an open palm, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

 

"Guess we're home," he whispered to himself.

 

***

 

Spike was exhausted.  He tiptoed down the hall not wanting to wake Xander or Bran, but couldn't help stopping at Bran's door.  He wanted to look in on the boy, make sure he was okay.  The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, letting the light from the corridor fall dimly on the bed. 

 

"What the - ?"  Spike was shocked to find the bed empty, then realized that Bran must have gone to bed with Xander.  Maybe Xander had been right and the call about Buffy had scared him.

 

He hurried toward his own room, hoping to find them both asleep in his bed.  When he got there and found it empty he spun and made his way to the guest room Xander had been staying in.  When that, too, turned out to be empty, he began to panic.

 

Where were they?  He checked the closets only to find their suitcases gone.  Spike felt as if he were going to collapse.  His legs didn't seem to want to hold him up any longer.  They were gone?  They'd left?  Without even saying goodbye?

 

He walked back out to the kitchen, hand running roughly through his mussed hair, and found a note.  Xander had stuck it to the refrigerator with a magnet.  One of the ones they'd bought at the mall that day, on their date.  A kitsch one, it had a little bubble of glass filled with sand and seashells on it. 

 

Spike pulled the note out from under the magnet, hands shaking. 

 

~

 

Dear Spike,

 

I hope that everything with Buffy is okay, and that she'll be able to come home soon.  I want you to know that I'm glad that I was able to help.  Thank you for convincing me to come.  You were right, I'm sure I would have regretted it if I hadn't.

 

And knowing Joyce, hearing her side of things, well...at least I know.  I won't have to wonder anymore.

 

Thank you for letting us stay.  And for giving us a really, really wonderful Christmas.  I'm sure Bran will remember it for a long time.

 

I just want to say that I won't ever regret my time in Sunnydale.  Getting to know...you all, was really good for Bran.  And for me. 

 

Thank you,

Xander

 

~

 

Spike couldn't breathe.  The note dropped, fluttering to the floor, unnoticed.  They were gone.