by
Yindagger
Part 1
*****
"We've got a new player in town," Buffy said, standing in front of the group with her arms crossed over her chest. "Dresses like a preacher. Calls himself Caleb. Looks like he's working for the First. He's taunting us, calling us out. Says he's got something of mine. Could be another girl, could be something else. Don't know, don't care. I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of training. He's got something of mine? Fine. I'm getting it back, and you guys are coming with me."
That’s how it had started. Xander had arrived at the Summers’ house shortly after dark, having worked late and then rushed home for a quick shower. His hair was still damp on his neck as he stood listening to Buffy exhort the troops. He and Spike could only exchange small smiles from across the room as Buffy and Faith swept out to do some recon, leaving at least two dozen scared young girls looking to them for guidance. Sighing, Xander gestured for the other non-potentials to join him in sorting weapons and passing them out. He also corralled Rona and Kennedy, who were the strongest and toughest of the potentials, to help.
"Spike," he said casually, "let’s get that other chest from the basement, ‘K?" The vampire nodded, and they walked down the stairs, away from the chattering of the girls and the quiet voices of Giles, Willow and Andrew. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Xander turned. Spike was still standing on the last stair, making him momentarily taller than his lover. Xander buried his head in the vampire’s hard chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. Spike wrapped his own arms around Xander’s warm shoulders and held him close for a long moment. They both raised their heads to look into one another’s eyes. "Hi," Xander said. "Hi, yourself, love," Spike replied, kissing him lightly on the lips. "You ready for this?"
"Um, no?" Xander answered with a grin. He sighed. "I guess I’m as ready as we ever are for this sort of thing, Spike. I just worry – it seems like Buffy’s going off half-cocked. This thing smells like a trap." They separated reluctantly and moved to the far side of the basement to drag the large trunk toward the stairs. "Yeah, well," Spike said, "I understand her frustration – waiting around is its own kind of hell; she’s used to taking action." They hefted the trunk between them and started up the stairs. "What was it you and Giles said when we headed out to fight Glory?" Xander asked. As they mounted the stairs, Spike intoned, "’We few, we happy few – we band of buggered’."
Back in the living room, Xander brandished a weapon that looked for all the world like a spiked baseball bat. "Now remember," he admonished the gathered girls, "we're looking for killing blows only, people. So, chest and throat if it's a vampire. Stomach, chest and face if it's a Bringer." He handed the bat to Rona, who looked at it as if it was a large, slimy snake and asked, "What if it's something else?" Xander nodded at her. "Could happen. Something other-worldly. And here's a handy rule: don't go for the flashy tentacles just because they're waving 'em about trying to get your attention. Go for the center - brains, heart, eyes.
Everything's got eyes."
"Except the Bringers," Dawn said. "Except the Bringers," Xander agreed. Molly, one of the potential slayers, had a nervous look on her face. "I don't want there to be tentacles. I'm not good with squishy," she said. Hefting an enormous sword, Kennedy glowered, "I don't care if it's Godzilla. I want to get in this thing." Andrew piped up, "Godzilla's mostly Tokyo-based, so he's probably a no-show."
Rona threw Andrew a withering look. "You people are even crazier than her," she said, with a toss of her hair. "Than who?" Xander asked. "Buffy, man," she replied. "I mean, taking us right into the bad guy's lair." Xander gave her a speculative look. "Well, that's where, generally speaking, you'd go to find the bad guy." His tone held a warning. "And I don't think you came here to fight plaque." She snorted. "No, I came here for protection." Xander stepped toward her, and Spike found himself edging closer to the confrontation. "Well, you signed on to fight with -" Xander started.
Suddenly all the tension went out of Rona’s body. In a low, miserable voice she said, "Look, I know, but... this plan is trouble. OK, Buffy doesn't care how many of us she puts in danger –" Xander placed a hand on Rona’s shoulder. "Let me tell you something about Buffy. In fact, you should all listen to this." He gestured to the entire group, who were already riveted to the discussion anyway. "Uh, we kinda were," Kennedy admitted in a slightly chagrined voice. Xander grinned at her, and then looked around the group, making eye contact with each girl.
"I've been through more battles with Buffy than you all can ever imagine. She's stopped everything that's ever come up against her." He cleared his throat in a vain attempt to make his voice less husky with emotion. "She's laid down her life—literally—to protect the people around her. This girl has died two times, and she's still standing. You're scared? That's smart. You got questions? You should. But you doubt her motives, you think Buffy's all about the kill, then you take the little bus to battle." Xander made a point to focus his gaze on Rona and then Kennedy as he continued, "I've seen her heart, and this time—not literally. And I'm telling you, right now, she cares more about your lives than you will ever know. You gotta trust her. She's earned it."
They all turned as Faith’s voice drifted in from the foyer, where she and Buffy were standing just inside the open front door. "Damn, B - I never knew you were that cool." Buffy stared at Xander with tears in her eyes. They shared a smile, and then she turned to Faith. "Well, you always were a little slow." With a laugh, the brunette slayer replied, "I get that now." Buffy looked around at the armed group arrayed across her childhood living room. "All right," she said, "let's saddle up."
As they all swept from the room, Spike stopped Xander with a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place until they were alone in the silent house. "Just in case I don’t see you til after, pet …" Their lips came together in a sweet kiss that threatened to turn passionate. Spike pulled away and brushed his fingers along Xander’s jaw. "Don’t get dead, Xan," he said. Xander turned his head to kiss the vampire’s cool fingers. "OK," he agreed. "Don’t get deader." They shared a grim smile and joined the others.
"Son of a bitch," Xander thought as he heard the signal – lots and lots of yelling - from inside the winery. He was not ready for the sight that greeted him when he and his troops entered the room. Both Buffy and Spike were down, Buffy looked unconscious; Spike was struggling upright in a sea of spilled wine. Kennedy was extracting herself from a jumble of wine barrels, and as Xander watched incredulously, the guy with a bad bowl cut dressed as a preacher easily snapped Rona’s forearm and was holding her for a Bringer who was preparing to stab her. Xander fired off a bolt from his crossbow, which pierced the Bringer’s forearm. It turned away from Rona to charge him.
Xander managed to hit the oncoming Bringer with two more crossbow bolts before it crossed Faith’s path and she lopped its head off with her sword. Xander smiled his thanks to her and ran to Buffy’s side, calling her name. She looked up groggily, and then reached for his hand. He steadied her as she regained her feet. They both turned toward the fight just in time to see Caleb snap the neck of a dark-haired potential and reach for Molly. "Xander," Buffy said weakly, "get them out of here. We have to retreat. Do it." She cursed as Caleb stabbed Molly and tossed her body casually aside and rushed him.
This time the fight was a little more even, and Buffy managed to push Caleb back enough for Xander and Spike to organize a hasty retreat. Grabbing Buffy’s arm, Spike told her, "We're all leaving." He dragged her backward as Xander helped Kennedy up and herded the others out. Spike and Xander exchanged a grim look as the vampire carried Rona’s limp form up the stairs, handing her off to the more ambulatory potentials gathered there.
Later, he would remember every excruciating second, every word. In the moment, however, it all seemed a blur. He saw the preacher grab Xander from behind and spin him around. He saw the bastard’s lips move as he drew back one hand and shoved his thumb deep into Xander’s eye socket. Spike saw the dark blood cascading down his lover’s face and heard his heartbreaking scream of anguish. Moving with supernatural speed, the vampire vaulted the rail and charged Caleb, knocking him away from Xander. The human fell to the floor with his hand covering his injury, whimpering softly. Spike stood over Caleb, ready to kill the man or die trying.
Buffy rushed to Xander’s side and helped him to his feet. Spike spared the false preacher one look of murderous rage, then grabbed Xander from the other side and hustled him up the stairs and away from the scene of their defeat. As soon as they got outside, Buffy looked at Spike over Xander’s bowed head. "You got him?" she asked. He nodded, and she went to get the car. The vampire lowered his lover to a sitting position on the ground and tilted his head up. Xander kept his hand over his face, and his remaining eye searched Spike’s face wildly.
"Let me see, love," Spike crooned, gently pulling Xander’s hand from his face. The vampire raised one shaking hand and brushed the still-flowing blood from the rapidly swelling area, hoping against hope that he would see a shining brown eye under all the gore. It was not to be. Spike lumped as he realized exactly how much damage had been done. He felt so helpless. He straightened and brought his thumb to his mouth. He allowed his fangs to elongate and bit deeply into the base, and then pressed the bleeding digit to Xander’s mouth. The human began to struggle. Spike peered into his face and said quietly, "Drink it, Xan. It won’t save your eye, but it’ll help you heal faster. You want to stay in the fight, don’t you?" Xander nodded slowly. "I promise, it won’t hurt or change you." Xander nodded again and closed his lips on the wound, drawing hard and swallowing.
Giles’ car screeched to a stop, and Spike helped Xander into it, while others helped the most seriously injured get settled for the trip to the hospital. The vampire squeezed his lover’s hand once, then stepped back and let him go. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. The car took off, and Spike turned back to the shell-shocked but less seriously injured fighters. "Come on," he said, "let’s get the fuck out of here."
----------
Xander looked at the clock on the VCR that was attached to the TV that hung over the foot of the bed. Hanging there on its bracket, it looked like an electronic vulture – squatting, waiting for him to die. He thought maybe they’d given him too many drugs. The red numbers on the clock’s digital readout were blurred. It was either eighty-five minutes past one or four-thirty. He couldn’t tell and he couldn’t really have given a fuck. His eye – or lack thereof – didn’t hurt. As a matter of fact, that entire half of his head was numb. They’d given him numerous shots in his face, none of which had hurt after the first one.
The medical professionals had poked and prodded him. They had flushed, cleaned and bandaged the bloody cavity where his left eye had been. They had put little bags of stuff on poles and run lines into his arm. They’d taken his clothes and given him a thin cotton gown, which he’d stripped off and hurled into the corner as soon as Willow had left two or twenty hours ago. Finally, they had left him the fuck alone, and he’d only had to scream it at them twice.
He had not cried. He’d kept it together when he’d heard those final words from Spike as he’d drunk the vampire’s blood while sitting on his ass on the dew-covered grass of the winery. "It won’t save your eye…" He’d stared stoically straight ahead as the doctors and nurses had calmly discussed the complete destruction of his left eye and remarked that he seemed to have very little surrounding damage, and that he seemed to have minimal trauma to the area. He had closed his remaining eye for a second at that – he no longer had two eyes; he had an eye and an "area". He wondered if he’d ever feel anything but numb ever again, but he hoped not.
He’d barely been able to speak to Willow – her agony and guilt were living things, sitting on his bed and clutching his hand as surely as she was. He’d spared her a couple of sad almost-smiles and pretended to be drifting in and out of consciousness until she’d finally gone away, leaving him with a small kiss on his numb forehead. Xander leaned his head back against the pillow and stared at the door, willing Spike to be there. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, the lean, blond vampire was there, looking wildly uncomfortable.
Xander blinked rapidly, then lifted one hand to gesture Spike into the room. Spike entered, closed the door and walked to the side of the bed, peering intently into the human’s battered face. Xander met his eyes. "You’re the first one other than doctors who’s looked at me straight on since I got here," he observed. "I’m not much for shyin’ away, Xan," Spike said in a low voice. Xander nodded once. "’K. Sit," he gestured at the open patch of bed next to his hip. Spike sat gingerly and raised one hand to his lover’s face. He eased the bandages away from the wound and looked at it carefully, unflinchingly. He gently put the bandages back into place.
"You’re healing pretty good. You should take a little more of my blood, though, if you want to get out of here by tomorrow night," Spike said. Xander nodded. "I want out." Dispassionately, Spike tore into his own thumb again with his fangs and held it out to the human. Xander wrapped both hands around Spike’s proffered one and licked across the wound before closing his lips around it and sucking hard. He drank two full mouthfuls of the vampire’s blood, and then held his lips against the wound as it closed and healed. He then kissed the spot and released Spike’s hand. "Thank you," he said formally, allowing his own hands to drop back by his side.
Spike cleared his throat. "Watcher wants me to take Andrew up to the mission in Gilroy – looks like the preacher-man’s been there. I’ll be back tomorrow night. You going back to your place after you get out of here?" His tone was studiously casual. Xander nodded, "Yeah." He looked up at Spike and tilted his head. "Will you come there when you get back?" Spike returned the human’s stare for a long moment. "If you want me there, I’m there," he replied. Xander nodded again, and then sank back onto the pillows tiredly, closing his eye and rubbing his hands over his face. Spike placed one long hand onto his lover’s shoulder and squeezed gently, and then he turned and walked out of the hospital room.
*****