Time After Time Series

[Flashback continued]

Weeks passed and there was nothing Spadakos could do to get rid of Alexandros. Alex who constantly bothered him with his chatter, and his love for life, and with his pretense that Spike was alright... that he was whole. But he wasn't, and didn't understand why Alex refused to believe and give up. Why he spent his time with a half-man.

They laughed and cried together, sometimes out of joy, sometimes out of frustration, sometimes because the world came crashing down on them. Spike still refused to allow Alex to see his scars... still panicked when Alex came close when he was in a state of undress. He was so perfect... Alex, and if he were to see his mangled leg... what would he think? He would shrink away in disgust, or he'd try to hide it... either way, Spike couldn't take it. Let him remember the old Spike... not this shadow of a man who was more than ready to embrace Hades.

Though he didn't realize it, eating regularly had put meat on his bones. He no longer looked gaunt and on the verge of breaking, at least to anyone but himself. And every day, there was a new fight... Alex and his ideas. He was going to make Spike walk... pah, he ought to cut his losses and run.

Spike stared at the sand filled tubes of made of sack cloth that Alex shoved over his ankles and insisted he raise his legs. "Leave me alone, I can't do this," he snarled, leaning forward and trying to rip the tubes off.

"Yes, you can," Alex replied cheerfully. He received no reaction other than an angry glare. "You know, you could make things easy on both of us and just raise your leg. You know I'll keep going on and on about it until you do."

He'd been nagging and prodding and pushing at Spike since the moment he first stepped foot in the villa. He was determined to force Spike back to health and he would do it if he had to drag the man there kicking and screaming. At least if Spike was doing that, he would be too busy to feel sorry for himself and maybe they would get somewhere.

"Well? Are you trying or am I poking you until you get irritated enough to try and kick me away." Alex poked Spike just over his knee and then again to make his point.

Spike's hand involuntarily whipped out and he caught Alex's hand. Yes, his reflexes had improved... but now that he had Xander's hand, what was he to do with it. A strange awkwardness washed over him as he struggled with feelings no half-man should have.

"Raise?" Alex asked hopefully. His hand curled around Spike's, holding it in a loose grip. It was the first touch Spike had allowed that wasn't comfort and Alex was unbearably excited by the mere feel of Spike's skin against his.

Closing his eyes, Spike coped by using Alex's hand as a focal point, or something to put pressure on as he pushed his useless legs. One of his legs had not been as severely injured. Forcing it up, he held it out. The other only moved a few inches and trembled. He did it again, only because Alex would insist... and again, this time straining against gravity forcing his legs back.

"You're doing it! I knew you could do it," he boasted, feeling decidedly smug. Spike wasn't paralyzed, not really. He could move his legs and if he could move them then he could walk on them. They just needed to practice a bit, that was all, just practice. Even if the result wasn't perfect - Alex wasn't fooling himself that Spike would ever be entirely well again - it would still be more than Spike had now.

"I'm moving it a few inches ... stop living in dreams." Stop giving me dreams.

But Alex wouldn't stop. He poked and prodded and cajoled and yelled and screamed and threatened Spadakos into moving his legs, exercising them every day, strengthening the muscles that he'd allowed to wither away. Calf muscles were rebuilt, and his thighs started to look as he remembered. But still, his mind only saw the scars and defeat.

One day, he had a rude awakening. Alex took it into his head that he would swim in the hot spring-water filled pool. "No… you're trying to kill me... you want me to drown!" He fought and struggled and even hit Alex, but still ended up in the pool. Swimming up to take a deep breath, he stretched his arms and gripped the edge of the marble floor surrounding the pool. His thin pants clung to him like a second skin, and he noticed that because they were white, his red scars showed through. "Son of a donkey... I hate you," he announced. "I fucking hate you.... leave this place and don't EVER come back."

Alex stepped back, shocked by the outburst. Spike had yelled at him, of course he had, but this time...he'd never sounded like he meant it before. For a second he thought about leaving, he was obviously not wanted here, Spike was really coming to hate him. But then he remembered what Spike had looked like before Alex had come. His mouth tightened, his eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. If Spike was going to hate him then by the Gods, he was going to hate him standing up.

"The water helps hold your weight up and that makes it easier for your muscles to work. A physician taught me that, on my way back home," he said calmly, "If you practice here, you'll be in better shape later, so you can walk."

"I am not going to walk... get that through your head, Ox!" Resentful, and yet afraid Alex would drag him back into the deep, he did as he was told and beat his legs up and down. He glared at Alex, trying not to notice the vast expanse of skin he was displaying, having chosen to get in with only underpants that covered him to his thighs. When ignoring didn't work, he pulled his gaze away. He would not think of how Alex looked or felt... he would not. Those were the dreams of a fool, and he was no fool. He had no future. A lump built in his throat, and he started kicking faster and harder.

"You want to bet on that?" Alex asked with a glare. "You're walking if it kills you!"

His throat had closed up and he didn't answer. The quicker he did what Alex wanted him to, the faster he'd get out... get away from the thoughts and needs suddenly crowding his head. He'd pushed them away for so long, why couldn't they just stay out?

Alex grinned and lazily kicked his feet, happy that Spike finally seemed to get going. The blond was moving as fast as Alex had seen him move since he got wounded. Ten minutes later, when Spike was still going Alex became a little concerned.

"Spike?" He was completely ignored. "Spike maybe you should...Spike!"

He was somewhere else inside his mind. Somewhere where he didn't have to be himself. Somewhere where he owned a beautiful body... somewhere he could chase Alex, make him crazy... make him burn for him like in the old days. His muscles seared, his body ached, but it was good... he needed to tire himself out... to make the ridiculous notions in his head go away.

"Okay now, this is getting ridiculous," Alex frowned and stepped close enough to touch Spike. He reached out and grabbed Spike’s shoulder, shaking him lightly.

Forced out of his reverie, Spike shouted, "What do you want from me?!" He tried to gesture and made the mistake of letting go of the edge of the pool. Sputtering, he threw his arms out and hooked them over Alex's shoulder as he tried to take breath. There they were... chest to chest, leg's brushing together. A shock ran through him. "G... get me out. I'm... I'm done," he stuttered, shame washing over him.

Alex’s breath caught in his throat as Spike brushed against him. His arms had automatically gone around Spike, holding him steady and inadvertently pulling him closer against his own body. He closed his eyes and tried not to move, lest Spike find out exactly how affected he was by that touch. "Just...just don’t move for a moment," he stuttered.

"What... can't stay like this." Wet chest slid against wet chest. His body was remembering now... screaming with memories, memories of Alex touching him, wanting him, of cocks sliding together. Panicked, he tried to move away and somehow the back of his hand brushed against Alex's groin... hard and ready, like he remembered it. He choked. "Alexandros... don't..."

"I’m trying!" Alex replied, desperately trying to bring himself under control. It had been so long since he’d done this and Spike was so warm and he’d missed him so much. "You know how I get," he went on, blushing a little. He’d never been able to control himself around Spike, not after they’d figured things out. One moment they would be having a perfectly civil conversation and the next Alex would be sprawled all over Spike, kissing him and humping his leg. Spike never stopped teasing him about it.

"Not with me... not anymore," Spike said, voice thick with anguish. "Not with me Alex. You'll find a strapping young man, or a nice Macedonian wife... Our time is over." Then why in Hades did it feel nothing like it was not over. Why did he want to do the things he could do only a year ago... why did he need to see Alex's eyes glaze over as he called his name. He started to tremble.

"Yeah well, tell that to my cock why don’t you," Alex groused. He wasn’t giving Spike up unless he was convinced that Spike really, truly didn’t want anything to do with him. Still, telling Spike that would only make the man more determined to send him away so Alex kept his silence. "Will you please stop moving, you’re only making me harder," he groaned, as Spike’s thigh brushed against his erection.

"Harder... rock hard," Spike cursed at his own weakness. "I can't give you want you want... don't you understand?" Yet the urge to fuck him was strong, and growing stronger. Spike's fingers bit into Alex's shoulders. "I'm not the man you remember." For an instant, he was tempted. But then the problems seemed insurmountable... the way his leg looked, the sympathetic or disgusted looks it would draw, the unlikelihood he had the strength to fuck... or to bring Alex to completion.

Abruptly releasing Alex, he fell into the water, and violently paddled, trying to save himself from himself. Water burned his nostrils and choked him, but he would make it... it was a short distance... he had to!

It took Alex a few precious moments to snap out of his arousal caused shock. He immediately grabbed Spike and pulled him up, holding him against him, erection be damned.

"You are such an idiot," he muttered. "You won’t be able to swim by yourself for a couple of weeks at least. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying all morning?"

Spike tried to speak but Alex wouldn’t let him.

"Shut up, it’s my turn to talk," he snapped. "I obviously want you so cut the crap about not being able okay? You managed to do this," he pressed his cock against Spike’s hip, "just fine. You can probably bring me off just by looking at me. When you’re better we can talk about the physical thing but until then shut up about that. Are we clear?"

Heat spread from Spike's hip to his groin. His senses reeled. His throat felt parched. He burned like he hadn't in so, so long. "Fuck you Alex... fuck you for making me want this," he said, pressing back into him and kissing him. This wasn't supposed to happen, but it was happening. His tongue was in Alex's mouth, teasing him, fucking him. Maybe if he kissed him just a little, it would tide him over for the rest of his life... maybe.

Alex responded immediately, savouring Spike’s taste in his mouth. It’d been so long, too long and now he had Spike in his arms again. He moaned against his lover’s lips and moved until he had Spike pressed against the wall, pushing their groins together.

Maybe if he kissed him just a little more... maybe Spike could find a way to stop. Maybe not. The pleasures of the body had escaped him, even by his own hand. And yet all it took was Alex touching him, making those low sounds he remembered so well, and his body came alive. A part of him was scared... scared about where this was going. Another part of him told him to follow the impulses of his body, urged him to arch against Alex. He hissed as their cocks met again, and again, each time making him ache and pulsate that much more.

"Don’t stop," Alex murmured frantic for release now. He grabbed Spike’s hips, pushing him against the wall, his body following and pressing harder against Spike’s. Once he was sure that Spike wouldn’t move away he wormed his hand between their bodies and took hold of both their erections. He moved, pushing through the hole he’d created and moaned as he felt the pressure increase around his cock. "Just like that," he whispered against Spike’s ear.

His senses swam and were filled with Alex. The fire in his loins built, stoked by Alex's movements. He whimpered, trying to find a way to gain more pressure.

In the old days, he would have turned Alex around and fucked him within an inch of his life. Now... now he could barely stand in the water and was being held up. But suddenly, that didn't matter. What mattered was that both of them were struggling to find release and single mindedly moving against each other, against Alex's hand. So long as Alex didn't try to push his pants down lower... there was nothing Spike could do to stop this. Nothing. And if he couldn't fuck Alex properly... he did so now with his tongue and with his hips, moving as hard as he could.


"Oh gods," Alex whimpered. He couldn’t help it, it was impossible not to make that needy sound when Spike was responding to him so beautifully. He moved his free arm around Spike’s shoulders, pulling him closer, so close that he could feel every part of Spike’s body pressed against his. "Need you so much," he said, licking and suckling a line up Spike’s neck. His movements became more and more erratic as orgasm approached. "Just you, no one else, just you," he chanted.

Spike's heart beat louder than the army drums on the field. He managed to wrap his less injured leg around Alex's and by sheer force of will and the straining every muscle in his arms, he dragged his body up and down, mindlessly thrusting against Alex, "Unh...unh... unh..." So close... so close... he clamped his mouth over Alex's as he came, kissing him as fiercely as his release.

Dazed, and limp from the exertion, he hung onto Alex. "That wasn't meant to happen," he said raggedly.

"No... no it wasn’t," Alex said, panting against Spike’s neck. "Was good though." He hung on there for a few moments, catching his breath. "We should probably get out of here."

He should explain again... for the thousandth time, that one day Alex would have to leave, and that this wouldn't make it easier... that they couldn't do this again. Or he should make him leave, right here, right now. But how did one get rid of a dreamer? And how did one get rid of the one person who gave you dreams?

Silently, he allowed Alex to carry him out of the pool. Curse his legs... curse his weakness. By the time Alex dropped him on the chair, they were both worn by the struggle to get him back to the room. He sat still as Alex toweled his head and chest dry, but the moment Alex's hand reached the waistband of his dripping pants, he gripped his wrists and stopped him. "No. Call Doros," he demanded.

"He’s not here."

Alex reached for Spike’s waistband again only to be pushed back.

"I’m not letting you sit there in wet clothes, you’ll get sick," he said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone.

Spike glared at him, his chest heaving. "Where is he... why is he gone. Why did you put me in the water if he's gone," again, he shoved Alex's hand away. "I'll wait."

"I erm...I had a craving for mum’s fig pie," Alex confessed, looking embarrassed. "He went to get me some. I’m sorry Spike, but I didn’t think and I really, really wanted some and he offered! And now I’m babbling again but I am sorry and you can’t stay like this because he won’t be back for hours and you’ll get pneumonia or something."

There was silence for a very long time as he warred with feelings of inadequacy and a deeper fear than he'd ever faced on the battlefield. "Close the shutters. And don't... don't look." He put a hand over his face, trying to hide his distress.

Alex obeyed the first order, closing the shutters tight so that the room was covered in shadows. At first he didn’t look past Spike’s hips, trying vainly to keep his gaze over the line his friend had drawn. Still he couldn’t help but let his eyes move downwards.

"Oh."

Spike was miserable, biting his lips as his pants were slowly dragged down his limbs. He flinched, "I said don't look," he said hoarsely, now trying to pull the material back up.

"Stop that," Alex chastised. He dragged the pants all the way down, away from Spike’s grasping hands. "I couldn’t help it," he explained after he took them off. He looked at the thick scar running the length of Spike’s leg, down to his knee. He hadn’t seen his lover after the battle, the king had been insistent that they press their advantage and keep moving, leaving the wounded behind with some of the physicians.

"You could have died," he whispered.

"I wish I had. Put something over me," he bellowed, at his wit's end. "And stop looking at me!"

"Don't say that!" Alex yelled back at him, "Do you have any idea what it would be like if you were dead?" He gripped Spike's shoulders and shook him hard. "Do you know what I went through to come back to you? Don't you ever dare say that!"

No one talked to him like that, no one! No one gave him home truths. Not his family, not Doros... only Alex. His chest heaved, but he bit back the heated response that first came to his lips. Instead, he answered. "And look what you found Alex... look what you found. Damn you... just give up... just give up..." he wasn't even hiding his leg now, but he looked away from his friend, his lover then and today.

"No. Do you think I don't have scars, Spadake? We were soldiers, scars are part of the package." Alex kneeled in front of Spike and looked up at him. "Your mother said you could walk. She wouldn't lie to me, so that means your body can do it. We just have to work up to it."

Seeing Alex at eye level with his scars, Spike flinched. But when he looked in Alex's eyes, there was neither pity nor disgust. He was right, scars had been a part of all of their lives. Men without arms, scarred faces, and gaps where their eyes would have been were a fact of life. His gaze dropped to his old wounds. Had he elevated them to a symbol of his defeat... had he used them to give up his life?

Did he want to give it up? Give up what Alex had brought him?

Taking a breath, he put his arms around Alex's bare shoulders. "Is there a reason you're keeping me bare-assed-naked? Hmm?" His mouth descended over his friend’s for a long, lingering kiss.

Alex laughed against Spike's lips. He kissed him back, letting his relief show.

"I like you bare-assed-naked," he said, "Easier access!"

"You're a man with ulterior purposes, I knew it," he answered thickly against warm lips. It might never be the way it was before, but what they had... it was worth fighting for, now that he realized it, he wondered which of them was the one with the thick skull.

*

"Master Alexandros," Doros found him in the vineyards. "Come quickly, back to the house. It's master Spakados..."

"Oh Dias, what's he done now," Alex took off, running towards the house, "He's overdone it again hasn't he? He always does that, the idiot."

When the front door opened banging against the wall with a loud thud and the ex-soldier ran inside, Spike smiled. "Alexandros... stay there."

Spike was at the other end of the long hallway, holding onto the wall, but standing. "Don't move. I'll come to you," he said, taking one small step, then another. At first, he had one hand against the wall for support, but then he dropped his hand. His muscles strained, his leg shook, but he stood erect and took another step, always, his gaze firmly locked on the man who'd believed in him and brought him alive.

Alex stared, transfixed as Spike took step after step. A smile slowly formed across his face, as he realized what he was seeing. "You did it. Gods, you did it!"

A small laugh rolled out of Spike, then another, and another, until he couldn't stop. "We did it... WE did it... Alex... we..."

"All I did was nag," Alex laughed and pulled Spike into his arms. "I love you so much," he said, hiding his face in Spike's neck.

* * *

[Present]

In the span of time that he told the remainder of the story, Spike saw many expressions cross over Xander's face. Extreme sadness, despair, fear... for himself or for Spadakos? And now... now there was a hopeful smile playing on his mouth.

Heart still aching for Xander, but pleased he'd taken the boy's mind off his troubles for a short span of time, Spike enveloped him in his arms. What was intended as a comforting hug turned into a kiss. He wasn't sure how it happened, only that it felt right that his mouth was slanted over Xander's, gently urging Xander to open for him... to recognize him.

Xander expected the embrace, after all, Spike had been doing a lot of that since the...since then. What he hadn't counted on was the kiss. It was soft and gentle, more about comfort than anything else. He closed his eye and let himself enjoy it, hoping against hope that maybe Spike would stay, maybe he wouldn't compare him to Buffy or anyone else and find him lacking.

As he felt Xander's resistance melt away, Spike deepened the kiss. This was his boy... for all time... He would do anything to make him feel better, starting with kissing him breathless. Right... needed some music. Contorting himself so he didn’t have to give up Xander's mouth, he reached the remote and put the music channel on, then turned his attention back on Xander. As he slid his tongue in and out of the boy's mouth, he showed him all the ways in which he'd loved him... as Spike, Spadakos, William, Spiketon, Will... and countless others.

The pain that he had been ignoring for hours finally grew strong enough to invade his mind. Xander pulled back with a gasp, hand going up to cover the wound.

"Hurts," he said when he realised Spike was looking at him, worry and fear clear in his eyes. He cursed as the wave of pain grew stronger, one hand still covering his eye, the other clutching Spike's hand.

"Did you take your pills?" He knew from Xander's reaction that the boy had forgotten. Instantly moving to get him the pain pills and water, he returned and passed them to him. As he watched Xander swallow, his throat closed up. "Wish I could take it away. Your pain. Wish I could find a way, like you did for me."

"It's okay Spike...we can't save everybody," Xander whispered. He lay on the couch and closed his eye, finding the darkness more soothing than the odd one-sided version of the world he could see now. "Stay with me?"

Spike brushed Xander's hair back with slow rhythmic strokes, willing him to be at peace. "Always. Always and forever... as long as you'll have me,"

(A/N: It will likely be several months before we post the next flashback story. Those of you who liked Story 4, a Whopper of a Tale, with Captain Spike finding a mate, might enjoy another story we wrote together from that mate-verse. Check out “Christmas Mate” in one of our LJ’s, though it is Spangel, not Spander - we didnt get many comments on it and are interested in what people think. You can also join my yahoo groups to get update notices, check my profile or prior chapters for the link. Thank you for all your comments thus far, *hugs*)