After Midnight pt.4
By: Michelle
TITLE: Doomed to Deal
PAIRING: X&A
SETTING: Season 4 AU. You'll see.
SUMMARY: Angelus turned Xander. Xander's not a happy vamp. Nor is he willing to stay with Angelus.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor do I make any profit.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely. Feel free. Also, concrit welcome. Just
drop me a line.
Xander hung again by his wrists. He glared at the closed door, listening as Angelus left him there. He pulled experimentally on the chains, growling when they bore his weight with ease. He knew he was stuck there until Angelus came to get him.
He felt divided, like who he had been was split into two separate beings. One was a raging young man, angry at having his life cut short just at its peak. He’d done so much to better himself, grieved for his friends, and excelled at something new and interesting. What about him, three years ago and three nights ago, proved so damn desirable to Angelus? He was no particular beauty - nothing like Drusilla or Spike. So why?
That same man was absolutely determined not to give in. There was nothing Angelus, sick fuck that he was, could do to him that would make him bend or break to the vampire’s depravity.
But there was the other part of him. The young demon, unsure in this body, wanting so much to have the comfort of his Sire and the nourishment that Sire provided. It was that other self inside him that would eventually break him, he feared. That creature that had taken up residence inside him and urged him not to disappoint his sire.
Well, fuck that! He tugged harder at the cuffs around his wrists, not noticing the way they cut into his wrist, the blood flowing freely down his arms. He felt the tickling trickle, but thought nothing of it, wanting, fighting, needing to be free. Finally, he felt the bones of his hands crack and reassemble themselves, allowing him to pull them free of the cuffs. He might not have been able to pull the cuffs free from their moorings, but there was no way in hell, with vamp healing, that he wasn’t getting free of the damn things.
Licking the free-flowing blood from his hands and forearms, he leaned carefully over, minding his broken ribs and wincing at the pain they caused, and unfastened the cuffs at his feet. He searched the room that he’d earlier not gotten to really look over. Finding his clothes from his last night alive, he gingerly shuffled over to them. He felt tears prick the back of his eyes, looking at the innocuous jeans and flannel shirt. Trappings of a life he no longer had, would never have again. It was like losing everyone all over again. At least with him alive, there’d been the chance that Willow would come out of her despair and they would be together again. But now? There was nothing.
Blinking and taking an unnecessary, though cleansing, breath, he put the clothes on perfunctorily. Then he set his jaw, mewling a little when the bones clicked back in place. There was nothing he could do about the ribs, so he stoically stood up, feeling the breaks line up and snick straight. He looked around, but couldn’t find his shoes. He frowned. What the hell does he want with my damn shoes?
Barefoot, his uninjured feet feeling relief from the cool stone floor, he crossed to the door and stepped outside, thankful that Angelus had been confident enough in the chains to leave the door unlocked. He walked down the hall, eyes casting about for any sign that the big vampire had returned. After several minutes of silence and no renewed scent, he relaxed. He emerged from the hall into the great room and was immediately chilled by the chill that permeated the air in the mansion.
He took time to look around the room. His eyebrows raised when he noticed Angelus’ tastes weren’t all that different from his own. Low, smooth clean lines of the sofa, functional but comfortable at the same time. Neutral colors on the walls and furniture with bright splashes of scarlet and green, the occasional black throw or pillow peppering the decor. All in all, in another circumstance, the room would appeal to him. But now? No matter how beautiful, it was a prison.
The stone floor continued to be a balm on his feet, but the cold was seeping into the bones of his legs. He needed a pair of shoes. Funny. He could break and rearrange the bones of his hands to get free, but heaven forbid he let his feet go barefoot and risk calluses. He figured Angelus wouldn’t mind missing a pair of his shoes, and if he did mind, well. Then fuck him anyway. He scented the air, noting where his Sire’s scent was strongest and followed that scent back to Angelus’ bedroom.
Again, this was a room that Xander could see himself liking. The neutrals continued, but the splashes of color were dominant here. The bed was huge, a deep forest green comforter draped carelessly across it. The dressers and bedside tables were not a set, but the various woods somehow were cohesive, blending perfectly with their high oiled sheen reflecting the flickering light of the wall sconces that served as the only source of lighting.
Xander snorted and made his way over to the closet, thinking shoes would be in there. He found a pair of black boots and pulled them on over his bare feet. Turning to leave, he cast a level unblinking stare at the bed. Snarling, he spit on it and left the room.
He’d been free for just about an hour, and could smell the outdoors. The fresh air he would be taking in, the night sky he’d see for the first time with vamp eyes, they called to him, making him smile.
He snatched the door open and took the first step out into the night, his smile gleaming in the dark.
“Where do you think you’re off to, boy?”
Xander snatched his head to the left, searching the shadows along the front of the mansion for the source of that question.
He saw a white shining head bend down slightly as the glowing red tip of a cigarette floated up to meet it.
“Spike.”
“You thinking to run out on the old man then? Can’t take the heat?”
“In a word? Yeah. That’s my plan. Not too keen on being Angelus’ new whipping boy.” he frowned again. “And it isn’t about taking the heat. Been taking heat all my life - maybe that should be in the past tense, but I find I don’t give a fuck - and there’s not much Angelus can do to me that hasn’t been done before.” He paused. “Well, maybe not rape with a hot poker or splattered with holy water, but things in life can be a bit worse than that I think. So, yeah, I could take the heat, just don’t feel the inclination to have to.”
“You surprise me. I figured with your Slayer dead, your little witchy friend incapacitated, you’d have taken up the good fight. Oh. Yeah. Sorry to hear about your friends.”
“Spare me.” Xander rolled his eyes and started away from the mansion. “You have anything, I don’t know, important to tell me then get on with it. But otherwise, leave me the hell alone Spike. Don’t need you.” He laughed a little. “Hell, don’t really want you around. I figure I can take care of myself now. What do you think?”
“I think you’d do alright by yourself, kid. But,” he shrugged, flicking the cigarette into the grass, “You runnin’ away from Angelus’ ain’t gonna make him go away. Trust me. I know this.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe not, but - ”
“No ‘but’s Xander. He’s not going to let you go. I thought the same thing. He won’t let you get far if you run, and when he brings you back, it will just be that much worse. You only think you had it bad alive. Pet? Angelus gives new meaning to the words ‘punishment’ and ‘consequence.’ His aim is not to hurt you, though he’ll do it. His aim is make you like it, crave it, need it. And he usually hits where he’s aiming.”
“Doesn’t that require that the object of his affection be in the room though? Here’s the brilliance of my plan - well, of my not so thought out, spur of the moment decision anyway. I won’t be there for him to do that to me. So. Are you seeing the genius here? If I’m not here.....He can’t make me like the torture. Not here? Not tortured. You see how this is working?”
“Yeah. I see. Well. I guess I’ll leave you to it. Being that you know so much about your Sire and all. I mean, you’ve spent what? Three days with him? Bet you were dead asleep at least half of that time. Hanging in chains? Yeah. That’s a way to get to know our Sire. Oops, I mean your sire.” He laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Spike made as though to leave, turning his back to Xander, but Xander was hesitant to let him go. He had a point. Spike knew Angelus in a way Xander never would. He’s spent several lifetimes with the psycho. If anyone would know how to handle Angelus, it would be Spike.
“No! Ok.” Xander called out.
Spike paused and tilted his head in Xander’s direction but didn’t turn around.
“Say you’re right. Say I don’t know anything about Angelus - and to be fair, I only know the crazy sicko that turned me. What can you tell me to help me? If that is actually what you’re proposing to do.”
“I can’t help you. He’s my Sire, or really by all rights should be. Dru couldn’t finish the job. I woke up stronger than she anticipated and she just didn’t have what it took to mold me, but Angelus did. So, yeah. My sire. What that means to you is that I can’t help you get away from him, I can’t help you avoid the beatings - when he gets it in his addled mind to really beat you and he will. I can only be there for after, telling you the why’s and wherefore’s. I’m not going to intervene; I’m not going to protect you. Chances are, I’ll be,” his lips curled in a snarl, “punished for betraying him with the Slayer. But I will be here.”
“Why?”
“We childer need to stick together I guess.”
“Like brothers?” Xander’s doubtful tone caused Spike to lift a cocky eyebrow.
“Posh. No. Like victims.”
Chapter 5
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