Not Forgotten

Chapter11

“This is it.”

Spike regarded his lover carefully. Xander was tense from the eyebrows down and Spike had been on edge for days, just waiting for Xander to blow. As yet, he hadn’t. Spike could tell that it took great effort on Xander’s part to stay cool and not panic or cry or just run away and never look back.

But none of those things were the answer. And Xander knew it.

This had to done. They had to be told.

Two weeks ago the sale of the house had gone through. A new home had been lined up and they were ready to go.

The new property wasn’t much, a small converted barn in the South West of France, but it was theirs. Their home. Their new life.

It was like an adventure. Xander had never even been out of the country for a holiday, never mind up and leaving for good. Spike had been giving him extensive French lessons, and not just the dirty kind, and Xander had spent countless hours on the internet researching the area they would be living in.

Their little house was completely run down. It had fallen into disrepair a good twenty years ago and now it was mostly just a shell. But that was good. Run down meant cheap. And it also meant a chance for Xander to get his hands dirty again. With Spike’s help, he fully intended to stamp their name in every nook and cranny of their home.

It was exciting. Very exciting.

But there was just one thing to do before they left.

Exactly one year ago to the night that he had died, Xander stood on the doorstep of 1630 Revello Drive and prepared to break the hearts of his friends.


**

“Tell her, pet.”

“I’m a vampire. I was turned exactly one year ago today. Now do you see me?”

Xander leant back against Spike, allowing his lover and Sire to take his weight. A slim arm snaked around his waist and Xander found himself gripping it tightly as the room’s silence became almost painful.

Xander glanced around the room, studying the varying reactions from each of his friends.

Willow, sitting on the couch, each silent, shuddering breath curling her further into a ball of regret and misery.

Giles, walking to the corner like some naughty school child, an aging hand rubbing wearily at his forehead.

Tara, arms folded tightly, eyes darting about the floor as if in desperate hope that another truth, a different truth, could be found in the carpet.

Buffy, walking away, her face shielded by disbelieving, shaking hands.

Dawn, drowning in tears, poised on the edge of an arm chair, waiting for an explanation.

Spike released his comforting hold and Xander took an unsure step forward.

“Xander?” Dawn spoke with barely a whisper, but the sound was like shattering glass in the stagnant air. “I…I have no idea what to say. I don’t know what to do…”

“You don’t have to do anything…”

“I do! We all have to. We have to do something!”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s done.”

Dawn wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “How?” she asked.

“That isn’t important…”

“Xander! Of course it’s important. Tell us.”

“I can’t, Dawnie…”

“Xander Lavelle Harris, you will tell us now. No more hiding. No more secrets, *please*”

Xander looked around the room again and found that he had everyone’s attention. He sighed and looked to Spike for help.

“Don’t have to, luv.”

Buffy stepped closer until she and Xander were inches apart. “Spike’s right. You don’t have to. But we’d like you to.”

Xander instinctively scanned Buffy’s body, searching for any concealed weapon or threat to him and his Sire. He had been sure that Buffy was going to freak out and her calmness was making him nervy and suspicious. Spike obviously felt the same way and Xander let out a relieved breath when Spike gently guided him away and towards the couch.

Spike sat Xander at the opposite end to Willow and deposited himself next to him. A protective and possessive hand rested at the back of Xander’s neck and played purposefully with his hair. “Want me tell them? Or we could just…”

“No, it’s okay.” Xander turned a pleading expression onto his friends. “Just please don’t freak out, okay? It wasn’t my fault.”

Buffy approached Xander again, her step faltering to a stop at Spike’s warning growl. “*Don’t* growl at me, Spike. Xander is my friend. I have a right to be near him.”

“If you’re a real friend then you’ll back off and give him some space so he can tell his story.”

Buffy retreated with a single nod and joined her sister in the chair. “Please tell us.”

Xander took a deep breath and begun. “I was in my basement. I’d gotten home from work about half an hour before and I’d just had a shower and changed into my sweats. It was just an ordinary evening, you know? I was going to stretch out on the bed and catch an hour of TV before I had to leave for the meeting. And that was when…”

“Spike came in,” Willow guessed. Her tears had dried and her face was a mass of red blotches, confusion and anger. “Why did you do it, Spike? Why did you turn him? Wasn’t he compliant enough for you? Did he fight you? Let me guess, you couldn’t have Buffy so Xander was the next best bet.”

“Wills, no. That isn’t…”

Willow continued, standing up and raising her voice to drown out Xander’s. “I’ve got to know, Spike. Did you rape him before you turned him or after?”

Spike roared and changed into his gameface, leaping up from the arm of the couch and pushing Willow back against the wall. “No. I would never hurt him. Never.”

Willows eyes blackened as her anger increased, her body reverberating with barely contained magical fury. “You murdered Xander.”

“Hey, Wills, please. Time-out, okay?” Xander all but begged as he dragged Spike back towards their place on the couch. “That isn’t what happened. Spike did turn me, but it wasn’t him that killed me. He had to do it. I would be all sorts of dead if he hadn’t.”

“Willow,” Buffy prompted. “Please. Sit down and let’s all just listen to Xander. I think we owe him that at least.”

Spike’s face changed back to normal and he resisted turning and showing Buffy his surprised expression. Buffy was willing to listen?

“Thanks, Buff. Okay, so I was just watching TV and…” Xander felt Spike’s arms come around him again and he willed himself to relax into the comforting embrace. “…and my Mom came down. She doesn’t do that much, come down to the basement, I mean. So, I was surprised, but I just figured she wanted to collect the rent. So I got up and I greeted her and…” Xander paused and focused on his restless fingers.

“Oh my god. Your mother turned you.” Buffy covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with shock. “You mother did all this?”

Xander shook his head and refused to meet Buffy’s questioning gaze. “No. She was just a fledge. I don’t know when she’d been turned, but I guess it hadn’t been long.”

“She attacked you, Xander? Is that what happened?” Giles asked, speaking for the first time since Xander and Spike had arrived. “And Spike? Spike saved you?”

“I wish it were that easy, G-man,” Xander said, sadly. “She drained me, yeah, but not to kill me. She was trying to turn me.”

“But…that’s impossible…”

“Ain’t impossible, Watcher,” Spike cut in. “Fucking rare, but it does happen.”

Giles nodded and sat on the couch next to Xander. “What happened, then?”

“Um, Spike?”

“S’okay, luv. I’ll tell the rest. She fed him her blood, not much, but it was enough to make bloody sure that he’d turn…somehow.”

“My god!” Giles exclaimed.

“Exactly. Fuck knows what he would have become. Anyway, I dusted her.”

“You killed his mother?!”

“No, Dawnie,” Xander defended. “He didn’t know it was her. He was just doing what he thought was best. I was dying. He didn’t have time to think.”

“Would still have done it, though,” Spike admitted, taking Xander’s hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “Couldn’t let you die.”

Xander smiled at his lover and shifted slightly closer. Spike continued with his story.

“So, I had three choices. I could have walked away and left him. Xander and I weren’t close at that point. It would have been easy. I could have just left him to turn into some kind of vampire vegetable. But I couldn’t. Couldn't admit it then, but I cared about him. I couldn’t have left him like that. So that left two other choices. I could kill him, end his suffering, finish it before it started.” Spike watched as the room’s occupants, aside from Xander, flinched at the possibility. “But I couldn’t do that either. I just wanted to help him. So I…”

“You cross Sired him,” Giles stated.

“Yeah. I didn’t know how it would work. I took a chance, I admit it. The fledge had already drained him, pretty much, so I couldn’t take any more blood. So I just fed him my blood and prayed. And it worked.”

Dawn sagged with relief. Of course it had worked, but she’d gotten so caught up with the story that it was almost as though she didn’t know the end.

“Why did you keep it from us?” Buffy asked. “We would have understood. *I* would have understood. Look at me now, understanding.”

“It weren’t as simple as that. Not by a long shot.”

“Had the fledge’s blood already affected him?” Giles wondered aloud.

“Yep. He wasn’t himself. Not at all. He wasn’t even like a fledge. His memories were gone. He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t even aggressive, not at first.”

Buffy sat forward, her forearms resting on her knees as she spoke. “You should have brought him to us…”

“No!” Spike snapped. “I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Risk what?”

“That you’d kill him.”

Buffy gaped and got up to pace the room. “How could you even think that?”

“I didn’t know what to think! You’re the Slayer. How was I supposed to know how you’d react? You’ve gotta understand. He wasn’t Xander anymore. It was so much more than just losing a soul. He’d lost everything. And it was me that had kept him going, given him that chance. I couldn’t just hand him over. He needed me. And you would have taken him away. He was too fragile. I don’t know if he could have survived it.”

“Look, Buffy. Spike did what he had to. And he did it right. He fixed me up, got me a soul. He made me strong again. And somewhere along the way, we fell in love. Properly in love. Not just the Sire-Childe thing, but proper, bone crunching, heart ripping love.”

Willow swallowed hard, her eyes long since turned back to their normal colour. “H-how long? How long were you like that, Xander?”

“I’m not sure. A while, I think. Spike kept me pretty much hidden. It was only supposed to be until I could speak and fight for myself, until I had my soul back and I could be me again. But stuff happened, Wills. Lots of stuff. Not just the love stuff. I had trouble keeping a balance with the demon inside and…”

“And?” Giles prompted, laying a supportive hand on Xander’s leg.

“Please don’t hate me?” Xander asked as he turned tear-filled eyes to Giles.

“I don’t think that could ever be possible, Xander. Please go on.”

“My Dad. He attacked us. “I-I didn’t have my soul and he was hurting Spike. He couldn’t fight back with the chip so…I…”

“Xander,” Buffy coaxed, kneeling in front of her friend.

“I killed him,” Xander whispered, the tears finally spilling down his face. He closed his eyes and suddenly felt surrounded. His lover’s lips on his face and his arm around his waist. His friends’ hands soothing circles on his back and stroking his arms. Small hands taking his and caressing and a warm body climbing behind him and hugging tightly.

Xander kept his eyes shut to the touches and comforting sounds of his friends. He just wanted to breathe in their scent, the scent of their love and acceptance. Part of him wanted to recoil in shock.

Can this really be real? Can they really accept me? Can they really accept what I’ve done?

The demon inside him roared. Why do you care? Just kill them. Just…

Xander gasped and tried to pull away, but Spike held him firmly in place, holding him even tighter and waving the others away.

“'S okay, little pet. I’m here. I’ve got you, luv.”

Xander held onto Spike just as tightly and felt himself relax as the demon retreated back behind the soul.

“I reckon that’s enough for tonight…” Spike started.

“No.” Xander turned in Spike’s embrace. “We have to tell them. I just want to get it out the way.”

“What is it?” Buffy asked, taking Xander’s hand once again. “Whatever it is, we’ll understand. We can help you.”

Xander nodded and tried to face everyone in the room as best he could. “We’re leaving.”

He certainly knew how to kill a conversation.

TBC…