VIGNETTE TWO
by Raventown74
Notes

"I'm surprised you didn't just line us all up and knock us down. I'm sure you wanted to. Hell, you probably thought about it all the time."

Spike paced back and forth barely listening to the boy's words. The apartment seemed too small for him now, the boy too drunk to listen to reason. He had tried to leave, but Xander had stood in his way, blocking his path to the door.

"What it was like to fuck us."

He knew Xander hurt. Probably hurt worse then he did. No one ever saw how close the boy got to the edge when was alone by himself. The petty meanness of the day coming back to haunt him. The emasculation that went along with his joking nature. Insecure. Unloved. Alone.

He had brought this on himself, letting the boy talk him into a drinking contest. What had started out as simple mockery, small jabs here and there, had now escalated until the room was filled with the threat of violence. If he had to Spike would take the boy down to stop him from hurting himself or the vampire.

"Just fuck you, alright. And your bullshit. You didn't need to change for her. She doesn't care!"

Spike knew that his obsession had caused this. He had wanted the only way a vampire could want, with tenacity and single mindedness. A drive to own what was never his to begin with. She had never loved him. Played games. Lied. Never held him close. The sex had been horrible if he were perfectly honest, and the fallout had left an ache that even the soul couldn't fill. He wanted to banish himself from this place. He wanted to get the fuck out that door.

But Xander's back was leaning against it. Spike tried to push him out of the way but he wouldn't budge. Using all the strength he possessed, in his frustration, he pulled Xander up and threw him against the couch. The boy hit it at an odd angle, his neck snapping against it’s hard back. Feeling numb with horror at what he had just done, he went to the boy's side to see the extent of the damage he had caused. The brown haired boy never even stirred, his hands curled at his sides, neck bent. Broken. He lifted a wrist and felt the blood begin to slow. The final signs of life leaving the body. Staring into eyes that were beginning to mist over, he felt an almost electric pull towards the boy's neck. He bit down. Draining him as fast as possible, before the waning light of the boy's life was eclipsed by death. He brought Xander to the edge and left him there. Sitting down on the couch, he lifted the boy into his arms, cradling him.

The chip hadn't even made it's presence felt. It had to be broken. He didn't care anymore. Looking down at his new childe, he almost smiled. Having a soul hadn't prevented this, if anything could have. He had wanted someone to love him unconditionally. It looked like he had gotten what he wanted.