Broken (AKA Beautiful Broken)

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Joyce pulled into the garage next to the DeSoto, and Xander got out of the car on his own, following her into the kitchen.

“About soddin’ time,” Spike exclaimed and then stopped. “Thought you were just goin’ ta have a look-see, luv,” Spike finished, and Xander dropped his head. Wasn’t Spike happy to see him? Why did he even care that Spike wasn’t happy to see him? An unfamiliar confusion milled around in Xander’s brain making it hard for him to decide what he felt.

“I couldn’t leave him there,” Joyce commented, and Xander just stood inside the doorway without knowing what to do.

“Pet, come here,” Spike ordered and Xander walked over to him and stood in front of Spike who still sat at the small kitchen table smoking, and if the ashtray was any indication, chain smoking. Because Spike was sitting, Xander could watch the vampire’s confused expression as he stood above Spike looking down. After a couple of seconds, Spike snapped Xander’s butt with a finger, and Xander slowly lowered himself into the Position kneel as ordered, but the whole time, he thought of Giles’ words, that there was something wrong with him for doing this, and he remembered what he’d thought of the vampire back when Spike had been tied to his chair in the Basement of Doom.

Why didn’t he just get up and tell Spike that he didn’t want to be this pathetic man who had to kneel at someone else’s feet? Probably because he did want to; he could feel the tension flow out of him the minute he settled into his kneel. He straightened his back a little and spread his knees to get into perfect form, and the knowledge that he was following orders untied a band from around his heart, and Xander nearly cried with frustration that kneeling was the only thing that made the constant undercurrent of pain and fear go away. No wonder Giles was worried about him; he was pathetic.

Xander kept his head down and waited. Sure enough, Spike tapped him on the head, and Xander sunk into the Down kneel, relaxing as Spike ran fingers though his hair. Spike’s hand brushed the back of his head and Xander flinched.

“Bloody hell,” Spike cursed. “Pet, are you hurt?”

“Yes, Master.” Xander knelt and just hoped that Spike didn’t do anything too drastic. Spike waited several seconds before continuing.

“What happened?”

“Giles accidentally hit me, Master.” Xander hoped his one word addition to the truth would calm Spike, but it was Joyce who gasped at his words.

“When did this happen?” Spike’s voice remained entirely calm.

“Last night, Master.”

“And we’re back to soddin’ twenty questions. Pet, just tell me the story.” Spike’s hand pulled Xander’s chin up until Xander ended up looking into Spike’s eyes, but that almost made it worse because Xander could see the Master who had tried to help him, but he could also see the pathetic excuse for a vampire who had crawled to the Slayer for help, a slayer Spike had killed, but then Joyce didn’t blame him, so Xander didn’t have a right to either. And Xander was back to mentally chasing his own tail. Suddenly Spike quirked an eyebrow at him and said in a louder voice, “Pet, I told you to tell me the story.” Xander’s eyes dropped instinctively to Spike’s stomach as he felt a wave of fear roll though him. He’d failed; he hadn’t obeyed. He rushed to talk.

“Giles tried to cut off my collar but the bolt cutters slipped and he hit me in the head with the handle of the bolt cutters.” Xander finished and waited for Spike’s response. He didn’t have long to wait.

“And the wanker still went ahead and cut the collar off, that bloody, inconsiderate, effin’ pathetic…”

“William,” Joyce said in a warning tone of voice and Spike stopped.

“Yeah, I know, luv. It just grates me that he does this after all we’ve done to cover for his sorry ass what with me killing the beasties and you covering for him when demons come complainin’ to me about his screw ups at the store as if my claim meant I actually care what the wanker does.”

“We both know he’s suffering, and we just need to keep him away from Xander. And as far as that goes, I don’t mind doing customer service for Giles considering it’s your money I’m spending.” Xander watched out of the corner of his eye as Joyce put a conspiratorial hand on Spike’s shoulder. So Giles was falling apart so badly that Spike and Joyce were covering for him? Xander thought back to the man who had stumbled drunk into his room. He never would have expected Giles to fall apart so thoroughly, but having seen that, he knew they were telling the truth. Giles feared Spike would shut down his store, but Spike was obviously using his new wealth and his position in the demon community as Giles’ “master” to keep Giles in business. Joyce finally continued. “He’s hurting, and he’s trying to protect Xander at all costs.”

“Yeah, well the cost is goin’ ta be the boy’s sanity if Giles doesn’t back off,” Spike said.

“First things first,” Joyce declared matter-of-factly. “Feed Xander and then we’ll consider our options.”

“Only one option, luv: the boy and I are heading out to find the girls before the sun goes down and Peaches has a chance to come after us.”

“I know.” Joyce said sadly, and Xander wondered why the woman suddenly sounded so tired.

“If the pouf starts playin’ dirty with the monthly money, you have the other accounts, right?” Spike asked as he stood, leaving Xander kneeling on the floor and feeling a little like the family dog as the two of them made cooking noises behind him.

“I have the numbers in the safe,” Joyce agreed. Xander listened as they moved in silence, and he realized that they truly were a weird sort of family. A weird family that was trying to take care of Giles and now wanted to take care of him. Part of Xander wanted to fall into that warmth, but part of him threw up one doubt after another.

What if this was just a response to the torture and he didn’t really care for Spike like he thought he did? He thought of the relief and fondness he felt for his trainer, and then he thought of Spike. Were those feelings the same? What if his feelings were real, but Angel was right about Spike just needing someone else to obsess over. Maybe Spike didn’t really want *him* as much as he wanted *someone*, and if that was the case, his Master might eventually replace him. If he gave the last piece of himself to Spike and then Spike left him, he had no doubt about just how long he would last. But when Angel caught Spike, his Master had just wanted to protect him, so maybe Angel was wrong. But then again, Xander didn’t know if any of his thinking had any logic left at all after six months in Leshar’s loving care. Xander mentally snorted at his own joke.

Xander followed when Spike left the kitchen carrying two plates, Joyce behind him carrying two glasses and a sports bottle. When Spike sat down, Xander fell into a Position kneel at his side, head bent. Part of him felt so completely right, and part of him felt so completely guilty for feeling so completely right, but Xander pushed that part back as he ate pieces of fried chicken from his master’s fingers. The sports bottle held down at an angle was a surprise, but Xander took it in his mouth and drank. The cold milk was the best thing he’d ever tasted and he drank with relish as Spike ran a careful hand through his hair, avoiding the sore spot on the back of his head.

All too soon Joyce left and Spike led him upstairs where the vampire started packing. He was shoving a frightening amount of stuff from the closet into two duffle bags, but Xander’s position kneeling by the bed didn’t allow him to see what exactly Spike was taking. Suddenly a small bag flew through the air and hit Xander on the chest softly before falling to the ground in front of him.

“Go get the CD’s out of the car, pet,” Spike ordered, and Xander stood up to go do as ordered when a voice stopped him in the doorway. “Xander?” He turned to look at his Master with lowered eyes. “Do we need to take the cage?” Spike asked with no more emotion than if he’d remarked on the weather. Xander thought about it, and honestly he wanted the cage about as much as he had ever wanted the cage. In the cage he didn’t have to worry about whose voice to trust. In the cage he couldn’t make a wrong decision. In the cage, his thoughts didn’t circle like vultures ready to rip him apart. In the cage he could let all that go, but he also remembered his horror when he first saw those impassive faces blinking at him from the trainer’s shelves, and he took a deep breath trying to steady his nerves.

“No, Master,” he answered, listening to his own voice crack with detached disgust for his own weakness. Xander waited to be dismissed, but Spike just sat on the floor with a half full duffle bag looking at him with a head cocked to one side.

“Right, go on, then,” Spike finally said, and Xander trotted downstairs with his small bag in hand. Xander was head first in the passenger side of the car when the garage door opened, and he sat up so suddenly that he hit the back of his already injured head, sucking in a breath of air as he ignored the pain in favor of the panic at the wide sunny street now clear through the open door. Joyce had parked a panel van on the street, and now she walked toward him. Xander pulled the bag closer to his chest and backed up a couple of steps.

“I need to move the DeSoto,” Joyce said softly as she got closer to the garage. Xander backed up a few more steps until he reached the kitchen door where he stood immobile and silent. Okay, this shouldn’t be such a big deal. It was only Joyce; it was only a view of an open street. However, Xander had to admit that the view of the open street nearly sent him running in fear: the normal looking houses painted white and yellow and brown. He could imagine how they must look at night with the yellowing street lights spreading islands that speciously promised safety.

Xander had been in one of those islands when the van had stopped. Asking for directions. Such a damn human thing to do. Why had he stepped up? He could hear the door sliding, metal scraping against metal as he stupidly stood there trying to figure it all out. Stupid. A hand touched his arm in the darkness, and Xander turned and sprinted into the house like he should have six months earlier. He ran up the stairs and didn’t even know where he was; he felt strong hands holding his arms, and he could see those bottom tusks, and he pulled back in terror and then the hands tightened and he knew what would follow. He dropped to the floor unwilling to live through it again, but he felt only a weight on his back, no claws ripping, no pain. The weight stayed on him as Xander sobbed and then he could hear words.

“Shh, pet. ‘S’all right. Wankers are gone and if I ever see ‘em again, I’ll rip ‘em to bloody shreds for ya,” a voice promised, and Xander slowly realized that the bag of CD’s was pressing uncomfortably into his chest and the weight was Spike’s own body draped over his. A lamp lay broken on the floor, and Xander felt a pain at his foot. Xander took a deep breath and tried to ignore the voice that told him he really was as insane as Dru ever dreamed of being. Maybe Dru would want him if Spike ever got tired of him.

“Ya back with us now?” Spike asked, and Xander only nodded. Spike must have believed him though because the vampire got up and Xander quickly slipped into the Floor kneel, humiliated by his own lack of control and humiliated by his need to humiliate himself by kneeling on the floor to a Master who obviously had not gotten his money’s worth out of his purchase. He pressed his forehead into the carpet and tried to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal. Panicking wasn’t allowed; fear wasn’t allowed. Slaves just accepted, but he wasn’t a slave a small voice said, sounding just like Giles.

Spike’s hand ran up and down his back, the shirt making the gesture feel dull and distant.

“He’s bleeding,” Joyce commented, and Xander’s best guess was his foot, but he stayed in place not having been given a command to move, and part of him just wanted to fall into the pattern of obedience. It hurt less.

“Where?” Spike asked, and Joyce must have pointed or gestured because Xander didn’t hear an answer; he just heard Spike getting up and moving around. Footsteps walked away and then quickly returned. He felt his foot lifted, and he balanced on one knee as something cool and wet washed his foot. He felt a firm leg press into his hip, obviously offering some support, but Xander pulled farther away, ignoring the protest from his kneecap.

“Here, let me,” Spike said, and the angle of the pressure on his foot shifted, and something firmer and smoother now soothed the sore foot.

“Spike, that is borderline disgusting,” Joyce said, but there was no answer as the soothing touch continued to ease the pain before widening out to stroke the arch of the foot next to the cut. Finally the touch stopped and Spike answered.

“Wot? Not goin’ ta waste good blood,” Spike snarked, and Xander could practically imagine the smirk. He had to imagine the smirk since his forehead was still on the ground, his hands clenched behind his back and his one knee starting to ache from holding too much of his body weight. Whoever held his foot released it, and Xander tucked the now comforted limb back under him without breaking position. “Besides, the saliva will make it heal faster,” Spike finished and Xander figured out what Spike had done.

“Just don’t ever offer to lick my brain,” Joyce said dryly and then her footsteps retreated, leaving Xander with his Master, his memories, and his embarrassment.

“What was it pet?” Spike asked, and Xander wasn’t sure what Spike meant so he remained silent. “What scared ya?” Damn, Xander really didn’t want to admit this…he should be able to retain some dignity, he thought as he knelt with his head to the floor in front of a vampire he had once called the ‘Impotent One.’ Right, dignity be damned.

“The street and the houses, Master,” Xander admitted mortified at his own patheticness.

“Street didn’t scare ya, pet, just reminded ya of somethin’. What really scared ya?”

“The thought of being taken, Master.” Xander felt a little better now. That was something worthy of fear; white picket houses and a street…not so much.

“Won’t let it soddin’ happen,” Spike insisted, and Xander felt the tap at his head, so he pulled himself up into a more comfortable kneel. “Bloody well won’t let anyone take ya,” Spike promised, and then Xander felt himself being pulled into the vampire’s lap. Xander wanted to melt into the embrace and let himself feel safe, but part of him whispered that Spike wouldn’t let anyone else take him because Spike himself had already made a claim. He wasn’t free and safe, he was Spike’s. Xander lay stiffly in Spike’s lap until Spike released him and gave him a thump on the butt.

Xander went into a kneel, and Spike retrieved the bags, including the CD bag that he stuffed into one of the duffels that already looked ready to burst.

“Time ta get out of Dodge before the sheriff shows up,” Spike said as he headed out the door. Xander followed through rooms darkened by sun-proof shades. In the garage, the side panel of the van was open, and Xander had a flash of panic, but then Spike tossed in the bags, and a strong hand was on his arm anchoring him to the present and holding all those fears at bay. Of course, the hand didn’t stop other fears from creeping in at the edges.

Once they were in the back, Joyce pulled a thick curtain between the driver’s compartment and the back, leaving only the weak light coming through the heavily shielded back window so that they were in a sort of late twilight even as Joyce backed the van out into the daylight. Xander stood awkwardly as the van bumped and rocked, unsure about whether to sit on the bench along the side or kneel at his Master’s feet or throw himself out the van door. Van door actually sounded good because the other two actions had too much symbolic significance.

“Down,” Spike ordered, and Xander almost sighed in relief that the decision had been made for him. He knelt down beside his master.

"Xander? What do you need?" Spike asked seriously.

"I..." Xander's words failed him again as he knelt by his Master's side. He needed to feel okay about kneeling at his Master's side. He needed to feel like he wasn't somehow ruining his Master's life by being here. He needed to know that what he was feeling was all him and not some screwy, freaky psychosis that he would one day wake up from and die from embarrassment. He needed to feel like he wasn't falling apart.

Spike suddenly knelt next to him, a cool hand cupping his cheek and forcing him to look right into his Master's blue-blue eyes. Spike knelt there silent and waiting and finally Xander took a breath to answer.

"I need a Master," Xander whispered.

"Ya have a Master, Xander," Spike countered. Xander drew another breath, not really wanting to go deeper than that, but he suspected that his Master wasn't going to let him get away with less than honesty.

"I need to feel okay about having a Master," he offered, giving Spike part of the ugliness inside that had poisoned his peace of mind.

"And ya aren't now?" Spike asked.

"No, Master."

"Why not, pet?" Xander took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid that I'll wake up and hate myself for being like this," Xander admitted.

"Oi, that's Giles talkin'." As Xander watched in fascination, the gold sparks appeared in the blue of Spike's eyes. Part of him feared for Giles' safety, and part of him pointed out that if Spike truly had any intention of hurting Giles he could have done so already. Xander just waited, slightly uncomfortable as he knelt on the floor of the van.

"Position," Spike unexpectedly said, and Xander stared at his master for a second before his brain processed the order and he knelt up into them more formal stance.

"Butt up," Spike ordered, and Xander looked up in shock. Spike had never given that order and he wondered if the vampire was about to punish him for his doubts. Xander stood and spread his legs as far as possible before bending at the waist, keeping his knees straight and bracing his hands on the floor. The position left his butt up in the air, and left him very little balance or control, most of which Xander used just to keep from falling over from the small movements of the van over potholes. Spike stood and Xander could hear him walking around to his backside. Xander saw Spike's boots through his own legs since his head hung limply toward the floor.

"What do ya need, pet?" Spike asked again.

"I don't know," Xander answered, and he heard the crack of a hand against his butt before he felt the dull thudding ache of the slap. He'd been hurt ten thousand times worse, but it shocked him that Spike would do it, and so he indignantly stood up. He felt a hand at his back and then Xander knew how badly he had failed his Master, he dropped back down into position and started trembling at the thought that if he couldn’t' be a good slave, Spike might not want him. He couldn't face Giles again, and if he ended up with Angel, he would just kill himself. Death would be better than life being ignored in a corner.

"What do ya want right now?" Spike demanded, and the "want" word circled ominously even as Xander tried to answer his Master. "What does my White Knight want?" Spike demanded again, and Xander ignored the worms squiggling in his stomach at the thought of admitting to having a want.

"I want to get the girls back, Master," Xander answered. The hand that had spanked him now rubbed the same cheek, soothing away the already disappearing ache.

"And why am I takin' ya with me?"

"To convince them you're a slaver, Master."

"And will a slave that hesitates impress them?"

"No, Master."

"Then why are you hesitatin' pet?" Spike asked, the hand still on his butt.

"I don't know, Master." The hand disappeared and then returned to swat the opposite cheek even harder. "I'm afraid, Master," Xander admitted, and he tried to stand again, but he fell back down into position before Spike could do or say anything. He figured he already had enough trouble, and he didn't know what Spike would do now that Spike had started using his authority as a Master. Xander thought back to Angel's words about obsession, and he feared Spike for the first time. What if this was just obsession? What if he gave Spike the last part of himself and then Spike left him? What if he wasn’t enough for Spike?

"What are ya afraid of, pet?" Spike asked and again the hand that had slapped his butt now rubbed circles. Xander had endured pain that made this level of punishment seem more affectionate than brutal, but tears now welled in his eyes from either the slaps or from what Spike was forcing him to admit or from the fears that he still held in his heart.

"I'm afraid..." Xander hesitated, unsure of what part of himself to reveal, and Spike’s hand stilled on his backside, Xander suspected as some sort of subtle warning.

"I'm afraid that I'll fail Willow and Tara, Master."

"Ya can't fail them. All ya have to do is please me, and the rescuin' part is on me, pet. I'll find them and I'll get them out, so you don't have to be afraid of lettin' anyone down."

"I'm afraid I've already let everyone down." Xander breathed out roughly, feeling a need to cry on the edge of his awareness. It wasn’t out of pain, Xander knew that, but he felt as if saying the fear out loud made it real.

"Bloody hell, you're worse than the watcher for doin' the guilt thing, pet. How have you let anyone down?"

"I didn't stay strong. Giles is right about me being messed up because on some days I wanted my trainer's attention...most days," Xander whispered the last two words so softly that he wasn't sure Spike even heard them, but at least he'd let it out.

"The watcher with all his research still doesn't know his arse from a hole in the ground. That's not messed up, that's bloody normal. I used ta do all sorts of stupid things just to get Angelus' attention. I knew he'd beat me bloody, but afterwards he'd hold me or bugger me into next week, so the pain was worth knowing that he wanted me too. Still sometimes have trouble seeing the souled broody-boy and not thinking of my sire. So you wanted the trainer's attention, no soddin' wonder. The wonder is that you held on to so much of yourself, pet, so no more thinkin' of yourself as less than strong. I wouldn't bloody have you at my feet if ya weren't strong." Spike stood silent, and then Xander cringed as he heard the question again. "What else are ya afraid of, pet?" Xander wondered if Spike was going to keep it up until Xander didn't have any secrets left.

"You, Master," Xander finally whispered.

"Bloody hell." Xander felt himself pulled out of position as Spike wrapped arms around his middle and pulled him backwards until he practically fell on Spike, and then Spike arranged his limbs so the he was curled in Spike's lap. Most of him wanted to just press himself into a little ball and hide in Spike's lap forever, but another part of himself was repeating a thousand names from the past: Sissy, Wimp, Pansy, Girly-boy. The "little ball" vote won only because Spike's arms wrapped around him so tightly that he couldn't possibly escape.

"I don’t ever want your fear, pet. Wanted ya to talk, and I knew you were fightin' yourself, rippin' yourself up inside. Wanted ta push down the part of ya that thinks he has to carry everything by himself; that strategy’ll leave ya as nutty as Giles." Spike now gently rocked, and Xander had the image of Spike doing this with Drusilla, rocking her when she started slipping 'round the bend. And then the words sunk in, and Xander considered them. He wouldn't have told Spike those things without some "persuasion," and he did feel better...

"Thank you, Master," Xander muttered.

“For what? For scarin’ ya as bad as the ponce and the git did?”

"I needed to say it, Master. I couldn’t have said it otherwise." Spike stopped rocking.

"I bloody need to know," he finally said in a serious tone of voice, "do ya want to stay with me?" Before Xander could answer, Spike continued talking. "I know ya have all these bloody parts inside bangin' against each other, and ya have ta find a way to make all the parts move in the same general direction or you're goin' ta soddin’ rip yourself to shreds, but there's more than one way to pull the pieces together, pet. Do ya want to be okay with this?" Spike tightened his arms until Xander couldn't move. Xander thought about the question. Only one answer got his girls back, so he laid his head down on Spike's shoulder.

"Yes, Master." A voice inside his head jeered him for his weakness, for his willingness to cling to a killer, but Xander shushed that part of himself as he tried to just enjoy the feeling of safety. Maybe Spike would even give him another collar, he thought.

They sat there on the floor of the van tangled in each other's limbs until the van finally pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Xander was more than half asleep, and when Joyce pulled back the curtain, he blinked rapidly to wake up as she looked down on them with an expression Xander hadn't seen since he was a young child being looked down on by his own mother. A flash of guilt ran through him. Did his own mother even know that he had gone missing? Had anyone told his mother that he was back? Xander mentally shrugged; it had been a long time since she had looked at him like this.

"We're here," Joyce said, and it must have meant something to Spike because he got up, setting Xander on his feet with ease.

"Right. The other car here?"

"Yep, right where we left it. The sun will be down in about an hour, so you should be able to leave then."

"Not soddin' waitin'. Peaches is goin' to be lookin' for blood, he made that clear after the git took Xander away last night. So, Xander can drive north until the sun's gone down." Xander looked back at his Master in horror before looking at Joyce who had a similar expression on her own face.

"Spike, do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Wot? He's got a license, which is more than I have. He'll take the 99 up towards Sacramento. If ya need us, you have the cell number?"

"In the basement safe," Joyce agreed. "I always thought you were a little paranoid for taking so many precautions, but now I'm grateful."

"That's the thing about bein' impulsive, luv, ya gotta have back up plans for when things blow up in your face," Spike answered with a laugh.

"Well you keep Xander safe, and avoid daylight," Joyce ordered and then she stepped forward and hugged Spike. Xander hadn't yet gotten over that sight when he found himself wrapped in Joyce's arms, and he tentatively raised one hand to give a small hug back. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright, and she stepped away quickly. "Right, I'll take the Volkswagen back to the house, and I'll see you two when you have the girls in tow. Joyce fled.

“So, pet, ya have the wheel,” Spike said with a wave toward the front of the van.