WARNING: This fic will include violence, torture, bondage, character death,
bloodplay, etc...
 

**********

For a second after he regained consciousness, a whole, lovely second, Graham felt absolutely nothing.  Then, the reprieve ended, and the pain began.  Bright, white hot flames of agony shot through him with each inhaled breath.  Bone, and tissue, and flesh either screamed out their violations or throbbed with a dull, steady ache.

Graham knew he should take stock of the situation.  Examine and catalog his injuries, then figure out the best course of action.  But, he didn?t want to examine the pain.  Examining the pain would mean recognizing, remembering, what had happened.  What had happened to him.  He didn?t want to clear his mind.  He didn?t want to start thinking logically.  He wanted to drift on the sea of hurt until his body caught up with his mind, and just... decided... to stop.

It couldn?t take *that* long to die.  The vampire had been too enraged to watch where he had hit, or to pull any punches.  Things had broken.  Things had cracked.  Things had ruptured.  And the part of Graham that had long since skittered off into the relative comfort of one of the darker parts of his newly fractured mind thought it ironic that a vampire victim would bleed to death on the inside.

But, then, his blood didn?t appeal to the vampire, did it?  It didn?t taste good.  There was something wrong with it.  Graham grasped onto that thought.  Held it close.  Studied it, and ran through it over and over.  He was clean, he knew that much.  The only drugs he ever put into his system were alcohol and caffeine.  He didn?t even like being around cigarette smoke.

The vampire could have been lying, but it was doubtful.  Why would it?  The rage, the disgust, had all been as real as the beating that followed.  Besides, if the vampire had changed his mind, and had decided to just beat him to death instead, why would it make up some kind of excuse to do so?  It was a vampire, it didn?t need a reason to be evil.

So, if the creature wasn?t lying, and Graham hadn?t put the drugs in his system himself, that left only one viable alternative.  The vampire had said he tasted like he had been using steroids.  Steroids.  Who would have wanted him stronger, faster, better then he already had been?  Who would have gone to any means necessary to achieve that?  And, who had been controlling almost every substance he had put into his body since the moment he joined the Initiative?

Walsh.  She had been poisoning him all along.

And, yet another reason to retreat a bit more from the world at large.  Of course, a nice thought was that at least this way the bitch wouldn't have his body after he died.  A perfect opportunity for an autopsy gone forever.  What a blow to science.  If Graham didn?t suspect his jaw was broken, he probably would have smirked.

Then, without warning, something was pressed against his lower lip.  Graham instantly tensed at the contact, which only seemed to further aggravate already outraged muscles.  Multi-colored starbursts exploded behind his closed eyes as his mind flitted around unconsciousness again, but the feeling of something cool, and wet against his parched lips brought him back.

Instinctively he tried to open his mouth.  Pain blossomed up the side of his face, but everything seemed to be working all right.  His jaw hadn?t been broken after all, though some of his lower teeth were considerably looser then before.

Pushing aside cosmetic concerns, Graham eagerly swallowed the offered water, not realizing how thirsty he had been until the first drops rolled over his tongue.  The Marine didn?t even think twice about taking what was obviously offered by the very thing that had put him in his present state.  Pride was one of those things that only mattered to people whose insides were all still in their proper locations.  Besides, Graham had heard stories about what happened when people died of thirst.  Why should he go out that way when the whole internal bleeding thing was already happening for him.

When the water was taken away, Graham slowly opened his eyes, and  fixed them on the deceptively innocent looking face staring at him.

?Okay.?  Xander said.  ?I admit, I may have overreacted.?  Hell.  Damn.  Hell.  Shit.  Fuck.  That wasn?t supposed to have happened.  Xander wasn?t just some mindless, stupid minion only taking pleasure from the frenzy.  He was better than that.  It?s just... finding out that all that rich, luscious blood was *tainted*... Well, it pissed him off.  But, he truly hadn?t meant to do quite that much damage.

Xander frowned down at the human, noting the interesting colors that had already formed over the formerly pristine skin.  In the end, his Adonis had crumbled, the fabulous musculature easily giving way under the fists of an enraged vampire.  Large, discolored bruises ran down the swollen left side of his face.  Blue eyes, now dull as dishwater stared at him, not in fear, or anger, but, just... stared.

There went his perfect little plan.  Even if he could force down the mortal?s blood, if Graham was turned now he?d probably end up nuttier than Drusilla.  Or, worse... Oh, no!  No way in hell was he going to have another Willow on his hands, no matter how delicious the unbruised version looked.

He would have to think of something else.  Make a decision.  And soon.

Xander gently eased his hand between Graham?s thighs, noting the complete lack of any response on the part of the human.  Well, he *had* wanted to break him...  With a scowl the vampire removed his hand and stared at the bright red smears on his fingertips.  Most of the blood had already turned into a congealed tar, but some was still stubbornly oozing to the outside.  That probably wasn't a good sign.

He lifted his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply.  Yes, there it was.  Under the intoxicating scent of lifeblood itself, he could now detect a faintly chemical odor.  He softly growled, and shook his head, trying to dispel a new rush of anger.  If he lost control again that would be it.  Little bits of Marine would end up stuck to the ceiling.

Xander looked back at Graham, golden tinged eyes meeting desolate blue.  ?You really didn?t know, did you??

For a moment something surged behind the Marine?s gaze.  Hatred.  Yet, oddly enough, Xander didn?t feel as if that particular look was directed solely at him.

It wasn?t difficult to discern what had happened.  After all, the mortal Xander Harris had been quite the little X-Files fan.  Secret government organizations, conspiracies, human experiments... The vampire wouldn?t have been surprised if the person behind all of it was Cancer-man himself.  Xander cocked his head.  ?Huh.  Looks like they screwed with you long before I got the chance.?

Xander moved away from the bed, not wanting to see the reaction, or lack there of, that statement produced.  It was time for him to make a decision.

On one hand, he could always just let the mortal die.  There were plenty of other humans in the sea, but not many came wrapped in such nice packaging.  At least, nice under normal circumstances.  Dammit!  He still wanted the swollen, discolored thing.  Graham belonged to Xander, and Xander wasn?t the type of person who liked to give up his toys.

So, if he wasn?t going to let the human die, and he couldn't stomach the thought of changing him with that stuff in his system, then... he had to get Graham help.  Xander rolled his eyes and muttered something about being glad Darla couldn't see him now.

Fine.  He?d let the human go, get patched up and healed, then take  him again afterwards.  Xander knew that wouldn?t be easy, but no one ever said obsessions were a walk in the park.  Graham couldn?t be safe twenty four hours a day, and at the first slip, Xander would be there to collect what was his.

Suddenly an idea popped into Xander?s head.  A truly wonderful idea.  Something that would make sure Graham remembered just who he really belonged to.  The question of how came up, and was answered just as quickly.  Of course.

He appraisingly studied the figure on the bed, wondering how much time they had before it was too late.  What with humans being so fragile he decided he really shouldn?t take any longer than necessary, and he hurried off to the kitchen to light the burner.

*****

He was still alive.  Damn.  When the vampire had come back into the room and rolled him onto his stomach, Graham used all the  willpower he had left to not think about what was going to happen again.  But, blessedly, every atom in his body had angrily protested the movement and the Marine had blacked out, sure, that this time he would not be waking up.

He wasn?t that lucky.

Graham heard the vampire shuffling around behind him.  There was more.  There was going to be more.  He pressed his face into the pillow, and didn?t even bother to control the shudder that went through him.  But, there was only so much he could take and then it would be over, he would be over.  Graham held onto that thought as chilled fingers gently brushed against his lower back.

Xander leaned in close.  ?I?ve come to a fairly important decision, Graham.  I?m going to let you go for a little while.?  He began to kiss up the Marine?s spine.  ?I?ll call 911.  The paramedics will find you, if your people don?t get here first.  I assume they do have the emergency channels tapped, right??  Xander grinned.  ?Do they know who really shot JFK too?  Nevermind.  The important thing is, you?re going to stay alive, and you?re going to get better.  But, before I let you go, there?s one more thing I need to do.?  Xander moved towards the door.  ?Have to get something from the kitchen.  Be back in a sec.?

Graham wasn?t sure what he should be feeling.  Huge, staggering doubts kept him from being happy or relieved.  Just because the vampire said it was going to let him go didn?t mean it actually would.  It was just a trick.  Nothing more.

He heard the vampire come back into the room.  It was, oh God, it was whistling.

?Now, this is just to make sure that you, and everyone else, for that matter, knows that you belong to me.  You will always belong to me.?

Graham?s body tensed, something, somehow telling him that he needed to move, *move*, now!  But, he couldn?t, couldn?t even muster the energy to turn his head to see what was coming.  In a way, he supposed, it was good he didn?t know.

?Now, I?ll try to do this as quickly as possible, but...?  Xander paused, contemplating the long, glowing piece of metal he held with his pot holder.  The purple daisy girl had probably used it for shish kebab, but after a little while of sitting in an open flame on the range it was about to have a very different use.  ?Let me just say, I won?t think any less of you if you scream.?

Graham barely had time to process that thought before he was screaming as white hot metal was pressed into the bare flesh of his left buttock.

*****

?Oh my God.  Oh My God!?  The young Marine at the communications desk doubled checked the computer monitor in front of him, then immediately called for his superior.

*****

?What?!?  Riley shook his head, hoping he hadn't misheard.

Walsh sighed.  ?I said, Agent Miller?s cell phone was activated three minutes ago.  It was used to place a 911 call.  I?ve already sent men to intercept the ambulance, and a medic team to the specified site.?

?I want to go too,?  Riley said at once.

?Don?t be ridiculous, you?d only get in the way.?  She softened a bit.  ?You?ll know when I do, Riley.?

The young Marine nodded.  He had been waiting that long, he could stand another few minutes.  But Riley knew, in his heart, that it was going to be good news.  It had to be.  Graham was still alive, he could just feel it.  Forrest was going to be okay.  They were going to get Graham back.  Everything was going to be all right.

Riley let out the breath that he seemed to have been holding in for the past twenty four hours.  He let himself relax a little, after all, it was obvious that the worst was already over.

**********

 Saone's Fanfiction
Title: Deviations  (10/?)
Author: Saone
Summary: What if Buffy had stayed in Cleveland, Cordelia?s wish was never broken, and the Initiative had to clean up a very different kind of Sunnyhell? (Xander/Graham) Previous parts can be found at http://www.oocities.org/saone/xg/deviations.html
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: ?The Wish?, basic season 4
Disclaimer: They?re not mine
Archive: Yes to the archive of any list that receives this
Website: http://www.oocities.org/saone
Date: May 19, 2001
E-mail:Saone@yahoo.com
Thank you again, Charles <g>

WARNING: This fic will include violence, torture, bondage, character death,
bloodplay, etc...
 

**********

For a second after he regained consciousness, a whole, lovely second, Graham felt absolutely nothing.  Then, the reprieve ended, and the pain began.  Bright, white hot flames of agony shot through him with each inhaled breath.  Bone, and tissue, and flesh either screamed out their violations or throbbed with a dull, steady ache.

Graham knew he should take stock of the situation.  Examine and catalog his injuries, then figure out the best course of action.  But, he didn?t want to examine the pain.  Examining the pain would mean recognizing, remembering, what had happened.  What had happened to him.  He didn?t want to clear his mind.  He didn?t want to start thinking logically.  He wanted to drift on the sea of hurt until his body caught up with his mind, and just... decided... to stop.

It couldn?t take *that* long to die.  The vampire had been too enraged to watch where he had hit, or to pull any punches.  Things had broken.  Things had cracked.  Things had ruptured.  And the part of Graham that had long since skittered off into the relative comfort of one of the darker parts of his newly fractured mind thought it ironic that a vampire victim would bleed to death on the inside.

But, then, his blood didn?t appeal to the vampire, did it?  It didn?t taste good.  There was something wrong with it.  Graham grasped onto that thought.  Held it close.  Studied it, and ran through it over and over.  He was clean, he knew that much.  The only drugs he ever put into his system were alcohol and caffeine.  He didn?t even like being around cigarette smoke.

The vampire could have been lying, but it was doubtful.  Why would it?  The rage, the disgust, had all been as real as the beating that followed.  Besides, if the vampire had changed his mind, and had decided to just beat him to death instead, why would it make up some kind of excuse to do so?  It was a vampire, it didn?t need a reason to be evil.

So, if the creature wasn?t lying, and Graham hadn?t put the drugs in his system himself, that left only one viable alternative.  The vampire had said he tasted like he had been using steroids.  Steroids.  Who would have wanted him stronger, faster, better then he already had been?  Who would have gone to any means necessary to achieve that?  And, who had been controlling almost every substance he had put into his body since the moment he joined the Initiative?

Walsh.  She had been poisoning him all along.

And, yet another reason to retreat a bit more from the world at large.  Of course, a nice thought was that at least this way the bitch wouldn't have his body after he died.  A perfect opportunity for an autopsy gone forever.  What a blow to science.  If Graham didn?t suspect his jaw was broken, he probably would have smirked.

Then, without warning, something was pressed against his lower lip.  Graham instantly tensed at the contact, which only seemed to further aggravate already outraged muscles.  Multi-colored starbursts exploded behind his closed eyes as his mind flitted around unconsciousness again, but the feeling of something cool, and wet against his parched lips brought him back.

Instinctively he tried to open his mouth.  Pain blossomed up the side of his face, but everything seemed to be working all right.  His jaw hadn?t been broken after all, though some of his lower teeth were considerably looser then before.

Pushing aside cosmetic concerns, Graham eagerly swallowed the offered water, not realizing how thirsty he had been until the first drops rolled over his tongue.  The Marine didn?t even think twice about taking what was obviously offered by the very thing that had put him in his present state.  Pride was one of those things that only mattered to people whose insides were all still in their proper locations.  Besides, Graham had heard stories about what happened when people died of thirst.  Why should he go out that way when the whole internal bleeding thing was already happening for him.

When the water was taken away, Graham slowly opened his eyes, and  fixed them on the deceptively innocent looking face staring at him.

?Okay.?  Xander said.  ?I admit, I may have overreacted.?  Hell.  Damn.  Hell.  Shit.  Fuck.  That wasn?t supposed to have happened.  Xander wasn?t just some mindless, stupid minion only taking pleasure from the frenzy.  He was better than that.  It?s just... finding out that all that rich, luscious blood was *tainted*... Well, it pissed him off.  But, he truly hadn?t meant to do quite that much damage.

Xander frowned down at the human, noting the interesting colors that had already formed over the formerly pristine skin.  In the end, his Adonis had crumbled, the fabulous musculature easily giving way under the fists of an enraged vampire.  Large, discolored bruises ran down the swollen left side of his face.  Blue eyes, now dull as dishwater stared at him, not in fear, or anger, but, just... stared.

There went his perfect little plan.  Even if he could force down the mortal?s blood, if Graham was turned now he?d probably end up nuttier than Drusilla.  Or, worse... Oh, no!  No way in hell was he going to have another Willow on his hands, no matter how delicious the unbruised version looked.

He would have to think of something else.  Make a decision.  And soon.

Xander gently eased his hand between Graham?s thighs, noting the complete lack of any response on the part of the human.  Well, he *had* wanted to break him...  With a scowl the vampire removed his hand and stared at the bright red smears on his fingertips.  Most of the blood had already turned into a congealed tar, but some was still stubbornly oozing to the outside.  That probably wasn't a good sign.

He lifted his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply.  Yes, there it was.  Under the intoxicating scent of lifeblood itself, he could now detect a faintly chemical odor.  He softly growled, and shook his head, trying to dispel a new rush of anger.  If he lost control again that would be it.  Little bits of Marine would end up stuck to the ceiling.

Xander looked back at Graham, golden tinged eyes meeting desolate blue.  ?You really didn?t know, did you??

For a moment something surged behind the Marine?s gaze.  Hatred.  Yet, oddly enough, Xander didn?t feel as if that particular look was directed solely at him.

It wasn?t difficult to discern what had happened.  After all, the mortal Xander Harris had been quite the little X-Files fan.  Secret government organizations, conspiracies, human experiments... The vampire wouldn?t have been surprised if the person behind all of it was Cancer-man himself.  Xander cocked his head.  ?Huh.  Looks like they screwed with you long before I got the chance.?

Xander moved away from the bed, not wanting to see the reaction, or lack there of, that statement produced.  It was time for him to make a decision.

On one hand, he could always just let the mortal die.  There were plenty of other humans in the sea, but not many came wrapped in such nice packaging.  At least, nice under normal circumstances.  Dammit!  He still wanted the swollen, discolored thing.  Graham belonged to Xander, and Xander wasn?t the type of person who liked to give up his toys.

So, if he wasn?t going to let the human die, and he couldn't stomach the thought of changing him with that stuff in his system, then... he had to get Graham help.  Xander rolled his eyes and muttered something about being glad Darla couldn't see him now.

Fine.  He?d let the human go, get patched up and healed, then take  him again afterwards.  Xander knew that wouldn?t be easy, but no one ever said obsessions were a walk in the park.  Graham couldn?t be safe twenty four hours a day, and at the first slip, Xander would be there to collect what was his.

Suddenly an idea popped into Xander?s head.  A truly wonderful idea.  Something that would make sure Graham remembered just who he really belonged to.  The question of how came up, and was answered just as quickly.  Of course.

He appraisingly studied the figure on the bed, wondering how much time they had before it was too late.  What with humans being so fragile he decided he really shouldn?t take any longer than necessary, and he hurried off to the kitchen to light the burner.

*****

He was still alive.  Damn.  When the vampire had come back into the room and rolled him onto his stomach, Graham used all the  willpower he had left to not think about what was going to happen again.  But, blessedly, every atom in his body had angrily protested the movement and the Marine had blacked out, sure, that this time he would not be waking up.

He wasn?t that lucky.

Graham heard the vampire shuffling around behind him.  There was more.  There was going to be more.  He pressed his face into the pillow, and didn?t even bother to control the shudder that went through him.  But, there was only so much he could take and then it would be over, he would be over.  Graham held onto that thought as chilled fingers gently brushed against his lower back.

Xander leaned in close.  ?I?ve come to a fairly important decision, Graham.  I?m going to let you go for a little while.?  He began to kiss up the Marine?s spine.  ?I?ll call 911.  The paramedics will find you, if your people don?t get here first.  I assume they do have the emergency channels tapped, right??  Xander grinned.  ?Do they know who really shot JFK too?  Nevermind.  The important thing is, you?re going to stay alive, and you?re going to get better.  But, before I let you go, there?s one more thing I need to do.?  Xander moved towards the door.  ?Have to get something from the kitchen.  Be back in a sec.?

Graham wasn?t sure what he should be feeling.  Huge, staggering doubts kept him from being happy or relieved.  Just because the vampire said it was going to let him go didn?t mean it actually would.  It was just a trick.  Nothing more.

He heard the vampire come back into the room.  It was, oh God, it was whistling.

?Now, this is just to make sure that you, and everyone else, for that matter, knows that you belong to me.  You will always belong to me.?

Graham?s body tensed, something, somehow telling him that he needed to move, *move*, now!  But, he couldn?t, couldn?t even muster the energy to turn his head to see what was coming.  In a way, he supposed, it was good he didn?t know.

?Now, I?ll try to do this as quickly as possible, but...?  Xander paused, contemplating the long, glowing piece of metal he held with his pot holder.  The purple daisy girl had probably used it for shish kebab, but after a little while of sitting in an open flame on the range it was about to have a very different use.  ?Let me just say, I won?t think any less of you if you scream.?

Graham barely had time to process that thought before he was screaming as white hot metal was pressed into the bare flesh of his left buttock.

*****

?Oh my God.  Oh My God!?  The young Marine at the communications desk doubled checked the computer monitor in front of him, then immediately called for his superior.

*****

?What?!?  Riley shook his head, hoping he hadn't misheard.

Walsh sighed.  ?I said, Agent Miller?s cell phone was activated three minutes ago.  It was used to place a 911 call.  I?ve already sent men to intercept the ambulance, and a medic team to the specified site.?

?I want to go too,?  Riley said at once.

?Don?t be ridiculous, you?d only get in the way.?  She softened a bit.  ?You?ll know when I do, Riley.?

The young Marine nodded.  He had been waiting that long, he could stand another few minutes.  But Riley knew, in his heart, that it was going to be good news.  It had to be.  Graham was still alive, he could just feel it.  Forrest was going to be okay.  They were going to get Graham back.  Everything was going to be all right.

Riley let out the breath that he seemed to have been holding in for the past twenty four hours.  He let himself relax a little, after all, it was obvious that the worst was already over.

**********