Cause and Effect

My apologies for the length of time since the last update. Unexpected company, in the form of my mom, has kept me from spending much time on the computer. It will probably be Saturday before I update again. Thanks!



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Chapter Ten
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Reveling in the warmth radiating from behind him and wrapping around him, he eagerly swallowed the hot blood from Xander's wrist. *This* was what he'd dreamed of all those lonely nights in--

The tease of memory almost made him stop drinking -- almost. It faded quickly as he once again lost himself in the joy. There was something . . . special about Xander blood. He didn't remember human blood ever being this . . . potent. Of course, Xander was more than human. He was . . . Xander. He wasn't entirely certain what a 'Xander' was, he just knew he was important. Of course, he didn't remember a lot of things. That didn't really worry him anymore. Xander would make it all come back. Already, Xander had helped his body heal, though every movement told him he was far from completely healed.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sounds he could hear again. The sounds of his sucking, his swallowing, the steady rhythm of Xander's heart beat. It all gave him hope. He began to see a time when he *didn't* hurt -- when he could hear properly, and *see*. He missed that even more than hearing.

He moaned as he realized the flow of blood was beginning to slow. He sucked harder, wanting more.

A pained gasp sounded behind him and his head instantly exploded in renewed agony.

He released Xander's wrist immediately, curling in on himself, away from Xander. **I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. *Please* make it stop.**

Xander pulled him back, rocking him gently, one hand petting soothingly through his hair.

Almost immediately the pain receded, and he sighed in heart-felt relief. Now, he knew. Don't take more than is offered. That brought pain. He whimpered.

"Shhhh, it's alright," Xander said softly.

He didn't know how Xander had done it, but he had to admit it was effective. He was just grateful Xander wasn't angry. He certainly didn't seem angry. **Better to be safe than sorry,** he thought.

"Um Sorree," he said, then frowned in frustration when it didn't come out like it was supposed to. He wished his tongue would hurry up and bloody heal already.

"Hey, you're sounding better. I could understand that."

There it was again, that sense of happiness radiating from Xander. He'd done something right -- and Xander *wasn't* angry. He'd know if his Xander was angry. The words were muted, but he'd *heard* them -- all of them. He grinned. Coming awake and realizing he couldn't hear, couldn't see -- he couldn't *begin* to describe how . . . frightening that had been.

Contentment flooded him and he sank back against Xander. The pain of his body continuing to fade slowly, but surely. It wasn't all that bad now, not really, not compared to how he felt before -- and not when he compared it to the feeling he got from being cared for. A small part of him was wary of that feeling, and it scared him almost as much as it made him feel good.

Xander stiffened behind him slightly, and vampire -- **Oh!** -- he was Vampire. That's what they'd called him. **They? They who?**

"I bet I feel hot against you, don't I?" Xander said, and moving him forward, scooted out from behind him.

Vampire frowned. He could smell the sudden confusion and fear coming off Xander in waves. He opened sightless eyes to look in Xander's direction. He *really* wished he could see. He didn't like this and he wanted to know what was wrong. If he could--

Revulsion.

Vampire winced, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly. Xander was disgusted by him. He should have known. He was garbage to be thrown away. They had told him that often enough. **Damn it! They *who*?**

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rem-- **Wait!** The tension from Xander began to fade the instant he shut his eyes. **My eyes?**

He reached up his hands, tentatively touching his closed eyelids. They felt normal. He slowly opened then, keeping them covered. He didn't want to drive Xander away. Fearing what he would discover, Vampire carefully touched a fingertip to one eye.

Not an eye!

He snapped his head up to blankly stare in confusion.

"What happened to my eyes?"

Xander groaned. Gently pulling his hands away from his eyes -- not eyes, Xander urged him to lay down. "I don't know yet, Spike. I-I'll try to find out, okay?"

**Spike?** Vampire thought about asking, but it was simply one unknown too many right now. It could wait. He wasn't up to finding out what *else* he didn't know. He simply nodded, accepting Xander's decision.

"Sleep, now. You . . . need to sleep . . . to heal."

Vampire frowned at the hesitant command from Xander, but lay down, and tried to obey.

His thoughts twirled in circles, spouting nonsense. He frowned, a memory, a girl, teased his thoughts. Did he know a girl who liked to dance? With dolls? He pushed the thought aside when he couldn't make sense of it. Who dances with dolls, anyway? It had probably just been a dream.

Life was here -- here with Xander.

He felt Xander move away -- quickly, and Vampire clamped his jaw tightly shut, wincing as pain shot through his mouth. Everything inside him demanded he reach out for the rapidly departing Xander, but he wouldn't let himself. Xander didn't want him. Was disgusted by him. Was disgusted by his eyes.

Uncertain what to do, Vampire ignored the fear and confusion from Xander, and finally, gratefully obeyed. The world around him faded away as sleep claimed him.

**He was swimming, bathed in a lake full of hot, pulsing, human blood. He inhaled, the scent overwhelming and intoxicating. He could happily die here.

**Slowly bringing his hands up, he drew them down his face, covering it in the sweet nectar.

**He grinned and sucked a single finger into his mouth, his eyes dropping closed as he savored the anticipation.

**He screamed. His body like living fire, Vampire snapped his eyes open, staring in horror at the fluid around him. It rippled and boiled, slowly changing color, becoming clear.

**Dripping off his hands, the fluid took melted skin with it, burning away everything but bone. **Holy water!**

**He tried to scream again, only this time no sound emerged. He tried to run; he had to get out. It *hurt*. He ran, and ran, and ran, but the shore -- and blessedly dry land -- got no closer.

**He could feel as his skin began to melt from his body. He wouldn't survive this, he knew. He was dead, finally, irrevocably, dead.

**A hand appeared from nowhere, and he grasped it desperately. Anything that might let him live. As suddenly as it had begun, it all faded away, he grabbed the hand's owner into a bone crushing hug.

**He'd never felt so relieved in his unlife. He pulled back, wanting to know *who* had rescued him, and found himself face to face with Xander. He grinned.

**Xander jerked back suddenly, revulsion roaring off him, spreading across his face. Shaking his head in horror, Xander turned and ran.

**Vampire couldn't keep up. *Wait!* he pleaded, but Xander didn't slow, didn't stop. He disappeared into the trees.

**Vampire stopped, blinking. He reached up to his face, and his hands caressed what was left in place of normally blue eyes.

**He frowned. *How can I see? I have no eyes.*

**It was then, he knew what he had to do.


**

**Sleep, heal. Yeah, right, Harris!** Xander thought as he backed away from Spike. He had absolutely no clue why the vampire was acting the way he was, but he was pretty sure that whatever it was, sleep wouldn't be enough to help. This was worse than when Spike was learning to deal with his soul. Then, Spike had just been crazy, kinda weirded out. This was different; this was . . . deeper. Spike had *cuddled* -- with *him*!

He frowned, staring down at Spike, who now lay curled on his side in a fetal position. Now *that* was scary. Spike *never* curled up when he slept. He sprawled, taking up more room than any one person should. **Well, he does when he's not tied to a chair, anyway.**

"So not the point, Harris!" he whispered to himself.

Xander ached to reach out and hold the vampire. He looked so lost, so young, sleeping like that -- lost and alone.

Xander spun around and raced to the bathroom, grabbing the phone on his way past.

A million thoughts running through his mind, not one of which made the least bit of sense, Xander barely managed *not* to slam the door behind him.

**Well, nice to know I can still babble with the rest of them,** he thought facetiously, berating himself silently. **Not that it's going to help anyone.**

Dialing almost automatically, he tried not to panic -- well, okay, panic *more* -- while he waited for Willow to answer her phone. He was glad, at least, that Spike's ears had stopped bleeding. That had just been plain creepy watching the blood ooze out of the vampire's ears. Cleaning it up hadn't exactly been Disneyland either.

He just hoped it, along with Spike's improved speech, was a good sign that both his ears and his tongue were actually healing. He just wondered how long it would take the rest of Spike to heal. It had taken long enough after Glory had got through with him, and this was *way* worse.

//And why are you so frazzled, anyway? It's *just* Spike.//

Xander frowned as the phone continued to ring. Why didn't that sound right? When had Spike stopped being 'just' Spike? He didn't know the answer to that, though images of the two of them trading insults without stings flashed through his mind. **God! What is wrong with me?**

He glanced toward the door. **And what on the hellmouth is wrong with Spike?**

He knew without a doubt it had to be something beyond having the shit beat out of him, more than being starved even. Spike had been hurt and hungry before -- Glory, for one, had tortured him for information -- and he hadn't come anywhere near acting like this. He'd still been that pain in ass, snarky vampire they all knew and lo-- **Nope, not going there.**

He felt tears fill his eyes, and blinked rapidly. He was *not* going to cry for a *vampire*.

He hadn't cried about a vampire since Jesse. Now there was a vampire he'd loved -- well, not *as* a vampire. Not that he'd stopped caring about Jesse the instant he'd been turned, it was just that-- He just hadn't-- **God, I'm *so* confused,** Xander thought frantically. He no longer knew whether he was coming or going.

//Have you ever?//

He jerked the still ringing phone away from his ear. "Willow, where are you?" he asked desperately. He needed to talk to her -- to someone.

**Please don't let anything have happened to them. I can't take anything more right now.**

Hanging up the phone, Xander slumped back against the door. He couldn't get a hold of Willow. Buffy was dead. Giles was God knew where in merry ol' England. So, just who the hell was he supposed to call for help?

He sighed and closed his eyes. He needed to calm down and think.

A scream shattered his sleep, and Xander bolted up off the floor, dropping the phone to the ground with a thud. "Wha?!"

A second scream sent him flying out of the bathroom and toward Spike. **What the hell has gone wrong now?**

Xander froze as Spike turned and faced him. Bile rose up into his throat. He turned and puked. He gasped and swallowed, shuddering at the vile taste. His stomach churned, but he panted, and swallowed time and time again.

A whimper sounded behind him, and Xander slowly turned back, steeling himself for what he now knew he would see.

It was almost too much, which his stomach let him know in no uncertain terms.

"Why?" he asked, disbelief, horror, and sympathy all vying for top position inside him.

Spike looked down, bloody tears suddenly streaming down his face. "I thought-- I mean you didn't like--"

The remaining contents of Xander's stomach ended up on his bedroom floor. **This is *my* fault. He did this because of *me*, because of the way *I* reacted. Oh, God!**

"I'm sorry," Spike whimpered. "I won't do it again."

**AGAIN?!** That snapped Xander out of it. He jumped up, nausea and all, and strode toward Spike and the bed. He pulled the vampire against him, ignoring all the blood, the awful stench of the room, and all the uncomfortable thoughts that had driven him away before.

"No," he said quietly, shame now taking top place inside him, tightening his chest until he thought he couldn't breathe. "*I'm* the one who's sorry," he contradicted, gently rocking the now sobbing vampire. "Don't, please don't ever hurt yourself because of me again. Okay?"

Spike pulled back and looked up at him, confusion clearly written on his face. Xander struggled not to pull back, to not pull away from the horror that was left of Spike's eyes, the bloodied streaks down his face.

The vampire's eyelids hung loosely over what were obviously empty sockets. Spike had ed ted those detested balls out of his own eye sockets.

Xander heaved again at the thought, but there was nothing left to come up. He glanced down -- and that was a mistake. There, on the bed, were two round, bloodied and gore smattered, wood balls.

"Oh god," he moaned, quickly looking back toward Spike.

"You don't like it when I hurt?" Spike asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"NO!" Xander exclaimed, outraged.

Spike grinned -- broadly.

Xander blinked, but couldn't stop the answering smile that grew on his own face. **Okay. What did I say to bring that on?**

"I'm not something to be thrown away?" Spike asked, and this time Xander *knew* he wasn't imagining the tentativeness of the question.

"No," he replied, desperately trying to keep the new horror out of his voice. "Who told you that you were?"

"They did," Spike murmured, looking down.

Xander pulled back enough to tilt the blond's head back up. "Who are they?"

Spike whimpered again. "Don't know," he muttered sullenly. "Don't care. Not there anymore, am I."

"No, you're not," Xander agreed, the words 'oh God, oh God, oh God,' running through his mind over and over again. He wasn't a psychiatrist. He couldn't even figure out what made himself tick, let alone an abused, and broken-- **They broke him!**

Aghast, and even more lost, Xander stopped thinking. He just rocked Spike, and tried to stay calm. Well, he *did* try. Unfortunately, his imagination kept supplying him with vivid details of what it might take to actually break a master vampire -- especially one like Spike. Of course, the condition he'd found Spike in was powerful inspiration for his insistent imagination.

**And have I ever told you, just how much I *don't* like having an over-active imagination?**

//Frequently.//

**Yeah, usually right about the time I'm afraid I'm going to wet myself.**

"Hungry," Spike said, his voice muffled against Xander's chest.

**Again,** Xander thought, just before his own stomach voiced its own empty protest.

Spike chuckled and pulled back. "You too?"

Xander snorted. "When am I not?"

Spike leaned forward, tilting his head back.

"Come on," Xander grinned, "let's go get us both something to eat."

Spike's chin came down, the corners of his mouth trembling. "You mean you don't-- I thought you'd-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" Spike's words trailed off.

"Huh?" Xander asked as he watched Spike . . . become less. He blinked. **What the hell?** It was as if the vampire were somehow becoming smaller -- impossible as he knew that to be. It made the hollowness behind his eyelids even more pronounced, and Xander wondered how he was going to deal with his horror of the sight without hurting Spike.

"Hey," he chided gently, "what's wrong?"

Spike shook his head, refusing to speak.

Xander blew out a frustrated breath. "You can tell me what's wrong. I won't be angry. I promise." He wasn't sure *why* he thought that's what was worrying Spike, but when the vampire's head snapped up, Xander knew he'd been right.

When Spike still looked hesitant, however; Xander worried his lower lip, his growing frustration. "Tell you what. You take a moment to figure out what you want to say, and I'll be right back."

Xander hurried away, getting bandages from his dwindling first aid supply. He'd already gone through half of it in the few hours Spike had been there. He just hoped he had enough to last. He wasn't sure what the affect on Spike would be if he left the vampire alone in the apartment -- even if it was just to go for more supplies.

Spike reared back as Xander reached for him.

"I'm sorry," they said together.

Xander shook his head. He'd startled Spike? How? "I didn't mean to scare -- **Again, how?** -- you," he said softly, reaching out slowly to cup Spike's cheek.

Spike leaned into the touch, rubbing against Xander's hand -- and didn't *that* just give him the wiggins. He pulled his hand back slowly, putting everything he had into the effort not to jerk it back. "I'm just going to bandage your eyes. You did a lot of damage to them," he said, thinking quickly. He really didn't want a repeat of 'my eyes disgust you'. While it was true, in his current condition, Spike was taking it *way* wrong. "If I don't, they aren't going to heal right."

**And was that lame or what?** Xander asked himself, rolling his eyes.

Fortunately, Spike seemed to accept what he said, nodding once.

"So," Xander asked, placing a round bandage on first one eye, bringing Spike's hand up to hold it in place, then doing the same with the other eye. "You feel like telling me what's wrong?"

Spike remained silent while Xander finished wrapping the vampire's head. He pulled back surveying his make shift handy work critically. **Not too bad.**

"All done," he said brightly, not moving from his position by the vampire. Questions hadn't gotten Spike to talk, maybe waiting would.

Just when Xander began to give up hope, Spike began to speak.

"You let me drink from you," Spike began slowly, a look of hesitant hope filling his face. "I thought, I mean, don't you want to--"

"No!" Xander exclaimed, then kicked himself as Spike's hopeful expression disintegrate instantly. "I mean, you're not strong enough right now," he stalled, thinking quickly. **Arrrg, this is getting to be a habit -- speaking and *then* thinking must stop. Must come the other way around.**

//And this is new, how?//

He ignored the voice, which he suddenly realized sounded an awful lot like his dad. "You need more blood. You don't need me taking any."

Spike smiled again, only a faint whisper of curves at the edges of his mouth. "You don't find me disgusting?"

Xander almost whimpered. **How do I get myself into these messes?** "No, Spike, I do not find you disgusting." **We just won't get into the blood issue right now.**

"So, you do want to drink from me, but won't . . . because I'm hurt?"

//So, *now* what are you going to say, oh, wise one?//

"Spike, I can honestly say that *if* I wanted to drink anyone's blood right now, I would drink yours."

**Take that insidious voice! How's *that* for sidestepping the truth?**

The voice remained suspiciously quiet.

Spike just grinned at him.

"Come on, Blondie, I'm starved," Xander encouraged, reaching out and pulling Spike up by his hand.

Spike came willingly, but stopped half way to the kitchen.

Xander frowned -- again -- and worried that his face might actually stick that way at the rate he was going today. His mom used to say it would -- back before she began drinking as much as his dad did. "What?"

"You call me Spike?"

"Ye-es," Xander replied slowly. "Last time I checked that was your name."

"Not Vampire?"

**Wha?** Xander thought, wondering just when he might actually *stop* being confused by the confused blond.

"No, vampire is what you are. You're *a* vampire, but your *name* is Spike. Well, it used to be William, William the Bloody, but you go by Spike now."

"They called me Vampire," Spike tilted his head, seeming lost in thought, "They said . . . I didn't have any other name."

Rage surged through Xander at the thought of people capable of doing this to *anyone* -- even a vampire. Killing them was one thing; this . . . this torture, this mutilation was something else entirely. Spike had been taken apart piece by piece. The physical stuff was bad enough, but to have your name taken away -- the very core of who you were ripped away. . . .

He grimaced. It was worse than what the initiative had done.

Spike jerked back, and Xander instantly winced, instantly reminded of just how acute vampire senses were -- sight or no sight.

"You said I could say-- You promised you wouldn't be angry."

"I'm not angry with you, Spike. With them, yes, but not with you."

**This is getting us nowhere. For every step forward we take, I send him two steps back!**

Continuing toward the kitchen, Spike in tow, Xander thought furiously. **Who?**

"Spike," Spike said quietly. "Spike."

Xander stopped when Spike frowned. "What?"

"I don't like it."

"You don't like your name?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Spike was bad."

**Oh,** he thought dumbly. **Okay. Now, just how deep was this getting?**

"I like William," he continued softly, dropping his head. "Would you call me William?"

Xander nodded in shock, momentarily forgetting that Spike, errr William, couldn't see him.

"You said it used to be my name . . . please?"

Shaking himself, Xander cleared his throat. "Sure, why not," he replied brightly. "William it is."

The blinding grin he received in return made the oddness of even *trying* to think of Spike as William worth it. It warmed him all the way down to his soul.


TBC
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