Cause and Effect

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Chapter Seventeen
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Xander hung up the phone with a confusing whirl of relief and anger. He was relieved that he'd talked the three of them into not coming over. He really didn't think Dawn needed to see Spike like this, and when Spike got all his marbles back, Xander was pretty sure he'd be humiliated with everyone seeing him like this -- weak and vulnerable. But on top of that, he was angrier than he could ever remember being. *Humans* had done this. People who supposedly had a *soul* had done this . . . abominable thing. Unfortunately, it was too near dawn to do anything about his new knowledge. It would have to wait until tonight. He was pretty sure Angel wouldn't be any happier about *that* little tidbit that he was.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised by all this, though. He'd known for a *long* time just what kinds of depravity so-called human beings were capable of. Unfortunately, it kept surprising him each time he saw it. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing. He sighed. He *did*, however; know he didn't like being confused like this. This wasn't exactly a combination of emotions he was used to feeling, and he really didn't like it. A person should be relieved or angry, not both at the same time.

Turning slowly, trying to gain a handle on his raging emotions, he fixed his attention on Angel. The souled vampire was clear across the room, staring out the broken window. Unmoving, his back stiff, the vampire's posture was forbidding.

"What was in that note?" Xander asked carefully.

"What did Willow want?" Angel asked back.

A surge of renewed anger raced through Xander, this time directed at Angel. It was so *childish* to say, 'I asked you first.' but that's exactly what he wanted to say. Clenching his jaw tightly shut, he held those words back by sheer force of will.

"Look, Angel, much as I can't believe I'm saying this, we're not adversaries here. We're on the same side; we want the same thing."

"Do we?" Angel growled, spinning around to reveal golden eyes and sharp fangs.

Despite a small part inside of Xander that shrieked in terror and told him to back off -- to run, Xander strode forward. "Yes, *Angel*; we do!" he snapped, losing what little control he'd managed to gain on his anger. "I want to hunt these sons of bitches down and do to them what they did to Spike. I want to tear them into such tiny pieces that Willow would have trouble identifying the body parts as human with a microscope!"

Dead silence and identical, shocked expressions met his vicious outburst.

Xander raised a shaky hand to his mouth, not believing that *those* words had come out of *his* mouth.

Angel reared back, surprise shifting his features back to human. "I guess we do at that," he murmured quietly.

"Oh, God!" Xander whispered. What the hell had come over him, he wondered -- not that it hadn't been the pure, unadulterated truth. The really scary part about it, though; was not that he'd felt that burst of raw vindictiveness. It wasn't even that he'd lost it, and actually vented the words out loud. No, it was the fact that no matter how horrifying the feelings were, or how much they appalled him, they *remained* true. He still felt that way. He wasn't even entirely certain he wouldn't actually do it, given the chance.

"I didn't realize. . . ." Angel began, his voice trailing off uncertainly as he shifted uneasily, his eyes dropping to his feet.

Xander looked at him sharply, suspiciously. "Didn't realize what?" he demanded.

Drawing a deep breath, Angel brought his head up, meeting Xander's gaze squarely. "I didn't realize the blood bond would affect a human so deeply."

Xander gasped as renewed relief flooded through him. It was surprisingly accompanied by disappoint, and *that* he didn't understand. He didn't delve into that too deeply. He didn't think he wanted to know why he might be disappointed to have a *reason* for all his confusing feelings.

"You mean this bond thing is why I--"

"No," Angel interrupted firmly. "The bond doesn't make you feel anything you don't already feel. It just . . . intensifies it. You admitted Spike was your friend. You've *always* been protective of your friends." Angel shrugged. He almost seemed apologetic. "The bond simply makes what you feel impossible to ignore."

Xander gulped, a sudden, startling realization hitting him square in the face. "You mean I . . ." he started, having difficulty saying the words out loud, ". . . .*liked* liked Spike *BEFORE* all this?!" he finally managed, panic once again ripping its way through him.

Angel frowned at him, the vampire's confusion clear in his expression. "I thought you had already figured that out."

"Hell, no!"

"But you said--"

"God! Get a clue, Angel. Being able to acknowledge the . . . attributes of a guy is *so* not the same as admitting -- Oh, God!" No, he thought suddenly, ruthlessly shoving all of his confusion, his new eye-opening, world-tilting views down behind a mental shield. Now was not the time for any of that. He was getting good at that, he thought with not a small amount of self humor. He took a deep, slow, calming breath before continuing. "We don't have time for that right now, Angel. I can panic later," he said firmly.

That earned a crooked smile and a chuckle from Angel. "The consumate soldier," he replied.

"Huh?" Xander asked, suspiciously wondering whether he'd just been insulted . . . or complimented.

"Your fear," Angel explained quietly -- and was that actually *respect* in Angel's voice? -- "you've always had the ability to shove it away until there was time to feel it." He shook his head. "It's an amazing ability that not many people have."

**Oh! A compliment. Wow.**

Angel sighed again. "And you're right, but you're wrong about something too."

Xander groaned theatrically. "So what *else* is new?" he asked, self-depreciating sarcasm lacing his tone. "What am I right and wrong about now?"

"We *don't* have time for panic, and we *do* need to work together, to work around our . . . issues with each other."

Xander nodded firmly. That wasn't anything he hadn't already figured out.

"What you're wrong about is us being adversaries."

Xander frowned. He didn't like where this was headed. Admittedly, he'd never actually *liked* Angel, nor Angel, him, but he'd thought they'd worked past most of that back when Spike had been temporarily ousted from his body.

"Now, more even than when we competed for Buffy's . . . attention--"

Xander opened his mouth to protest, but Angel's quickly raised hand forstalled him. He snapped his mouth shut, impatiently willing to hear Angel out. Of course, if he didn't like what Angel said, he could always refute it later.

"Yes, we did, Xander. Both -- *both* -- of us were jealous of the affection, love, she. . . ."

Angel had been jealous of *him*? That was new information.

". . . .had for the other, and *that* showed in our reactions."

He didn't want to, but Xander had to admit that Angel was right. "You sure seem awfully level-headed about it all of a sudden," he snapped, uneasy with Angel's all too accurate description.

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot of time to think about it."

"Brood, you mean," Xander corrected automatically, though his voice was considerably softer, gentler than before. He knew *damn* well it could hurt just as much to do the leaving as to be the one left.

Angel's sheepish half-smile returned. "Okay, yes, brood." He paused, then continued. "There's so much of the vampire world that humans don't -- can't -- understand, Xander."

"The bond?"

Angel nodded. "Yes. It's as much a mark of . . . ownership, of possession, as any--"

"I don't own William!" Xander denied hotly.

"Yes," Angel countered, "you do -- in the vampire society, and actually more literally, as well."

Xander shook his head in continued denial. *Owning* someone? It just wasn't something he wanted to think about. It was just so . . . wrong.

//That's a human perception.//

**Well, damn it!** Xander thought, furiously answering the unasked for advice from his subconscious, **I *am* human. How *else* am I supposed to perceive things?**

The voice remained absolutely silent. No answers from that corner it seemed.

**Yeah, I thought as much.**

Then another thought suddenly hit him, and then thought he knew what Angel was trying to get at. This time he *really* knew he didn't like where the conversation was headed. "And I, basically, 'took' him from you." he said softly.

"Yeah, basically”, Angel replied evenly, though Xander could see the effort it cost him. "And the demon wants him back."

"Oh." Xander murmured, new understanding growing slowly. "Oh!" he repeated. "Oh my."

Angel nodded. "Add to that, as the bond between the two of you grows, deepens, you will begin to get possessive -- very possessive -- of him."

"So," Xander asked warily. "How do we deal with it?"

"Carefully?" Angel shrugged.

"Ha, ha," Xander snapped, "very funny -- not!"

"We just have to take it one step at a time, with both of us trying to act like grown up, civilized beings, and *not* animals."

Xander blew out a breath he hadn't realized d bed been holding. "Got it."

Angel turned away then, once again staring out the broken window. "But there's still more to it than that."

**How?!**

"While Spike is William, memories gone, vulnerable and essentially . . . new, he's like a true fledgling -- a very wounded one -- but a fledgling just the same.

Xander had figured that much out already. It *was* pretty obvious. He waited before responding, however; he was sure Angel had more to say. What he'd already voiced was just a little *too* obvious.

"As long as that is true, you, Xander, have tremendous power over him."

Xander swallowed convulsively around the knot forming in his throat, a scary picture of his new reality forming in his mind..

"He will look to you for approval in *everything*. He will seek to make you . . . proud of him." Angel turned back toward him at that point, his eyes deadly serious. "At this stage, you can either help him a lot, or," he paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "you could destroy him utterly."

//What's that old line about absolute power?//

"There was a time when that would have held a *lot* of appeal," Xander admitted in a hoarse whisper.

"And now?" Angel asked, his voice and expression going utterly blank.

"It doesn't."

Angel nodded firmly, once. "He will instinctively want to obey your slightest command." Angel chuckled again. "Though his natural personality will begin to fight that *very* soon, so take advantage of your advantage while you still actually have it. Xander, he needs a lot of help right now, and the further that help gets before he starts fighting you, the better it will be for all concerned."

Ignoring his growing concerns, Xander couldn't help but lighten the mood. "Sounds like the voice of experience there."

"Yes," Angel replied, pained. "But unlike me, you don't have the option of overpowering him -- of beating the crap out of him -- to get him to mind."

"Why not?"

**Not that I actually *want* to,** Xander protested sily. y. He couldn't imagine *anyone* wanting to hurt William right now. The broken vampire was just too . . . well, broken.

Angel blinked. "You're not strong enough," he replied, the heavy 'duh' carrying loud and clear to Xander's ears.

"Have you forgotten?" Xander asked. "Human," he continued, pointing to himself. "Spike can't hurt humans."

Angel frowned. Apparently, he *had* forgotten.

"Don't count on it continuing. I have no clue how that chip works, but the bond, and Spike's belief of you as his Sire, *might* change that."

"Damn, hadn't thought of that."

A new, apparently horrifying, thought occurred to Angel, his eyes widening in alarm. "How much blood did you give him that first time?" he asked urgently.

"How should I know?" Xander asked.

Angel stepped forward until he and Xander were nose to nose. "It's important, Harris!"

"W-well," Xander stuttered, fearfully wondering at Angel's sudden intensity, and fighting the urge to step back. "I was dizzy when I pulled back, so quite a bit. More than when I donate blood for sure."

Angel closed his eyes in relief. "Good."

"Why?"

"Remind me when we have more time to talk to tell you about the difference between creating a minion and a childe. The important thing at this point is that, for both your sakes, it's better that you gave a lot. If you'd created a minion, maker bond between the two of you--" Angel cut himself off. "Let's just say that when Spike returns to normal he would . . . not be happy."

Both men fell into silent thought for several moments, with Xander wondering what new curveball coming out of left field would be thrown at him next. Eventually, Angel handed the note to Xander.

Xander accepted it without a word, dropping his eyes to the piece of paper that suddenly felt like a serpent about to strike.

Within just a few words, Xander saw red. Rage boiled within him that he wasn't altogether certain he could contain, nor whether he really wanted to.

"How *dare* they?!"

"Xander!"

Xander continued reading, his rage, his *outrage* growing by leaps and bounds. How dare they tell him to stay out of the way, to take Spike back where he'd found him?

"Xander!" Angel shouted a second time.

Xander's head snapped up. "What?!" he demanded, his voice just this side of a true growl.

"They don't *know* anything. As far as they're concerned you're just some guy that's messing up their plan -- whatever *that* is. It isn't a personal affront to you."

The red receded. Xander had to admit Angel did have a point. How was he going to function if he kept over-reacting to every little thing? Shaking, he handed the damning letter back to Angel.

"Well, we have an advantage then," he said. "me. Well, that and we know where he was held," Xander paused then, his smile growing truly evil. "and who was holding him."

Angel *did* growl, then. "Who? How?"

"Dawn cornered Willie."

Angel gaped at Xander. "Dawn?" he asked incredulously. "Little Dawn?"

Laughing, Xander nodded. "Though she's not so 'little' anymore. She's . . . changed a lot since Buffy's death."

Sobering instantly, Angel nodded knowingly.

"She's the one who convinced me that Spike hadn't simply taken off for parts unknown." He dropped his gaze, staring uncomfortably at the floor. "I didn't really realize it until just now, but I was so angry at him for just disappearing that I couldn't see what was really happening."

Xander turned his head, staring at the bedroom door. "He *is* going to be alright, isn't he?"

Angel's gaze followed Xander's at that question. "In time," he replied. "It's actually pretty hard to permanently damage a vampire."

Xander brought his eyes back to Angel. "What about Drusilla?" he asked fearfully. "I'd say she's pretty . . . damaged."

Angel winced. "I drove her insane *before* I turned her, Xander. And no, I'm not going into that explanation."

Angel's eyes widened suddenly, as if at a sudden realization.

"What?"

"Has Spike, um," Angel began, looking for all the world as if he would be blushing were he able."

"Has Spike what?"

"Has he asked about sharing blood," Angel blurted.

**Odd much,** Xander thought. "Well, duh, why else would I have allowed him to do it once I had access to other blood?"

"No, no, no," Angel replied dismissively. "I meant *share* blood, not feed from you."

"Oh. Well, yeah, once, now that you mention it."

"And you didn't think it was important enough to mention!?"

"Hey!" Xander complained, angered by Angel's accusations. "It's not like I've got a guide book here, you know. Besides, it's not like I took him up on it."

"That could explain it," Angel mused aloud.

**Explain what?!** Xander thought, but before he could ask, Angel continued.

"How did you talk him out of it?"

Setting aside his own questions with a heart-felt sigh, Xander quickly explained what had happened just a few hours before his arrival, including Spike's pettiness, and his own scrambling explanations of why he didn't want it. Xander cringed in the retelling, remembering how hurt Spiad sad seemed at first at Xander's refusal. He was just glad he'd finally come up with a reason that had seemed to satisfy Spike -- well, William.

"You're turn," Xander demanded when he'd finished. "That explains what?"

"Why you're so . . . off balance right now. It might even explain *some* of Spike's behavior."

Xander's eyes narrowed. Angel wasn't hinting at what he *thought* the vampire was hinting at. "No way."

"It has to happen, Xander."

Xander shook his head emphatically.

"The way you're feeling out of control will only grow until you complete the circle, complete the bond."

Xander's heart pounded in his chest. **God! When is the panic going to just go *away*?**

"I don't want to be a vampire, Angel! It wouldn't be--"

"No!" Angel replied sharply. "That's not what I'm talking about. Spike would have to drain you first, before that could happen, and that's assuming that Adam was wrong and it can happen at all. Drinking a vampire's blood isn't enough to turn someone, Xander; they have to be dying for it to be effective."

"Oh, well, good then."

**I *can't* be turned? Well, hallelujah!** Xander thought, **a bonus to Immortality.**

"Of course, I'm not even sure Spike *could* turn you now, even if you *weren't* an Immortal." Angel shook his head wearily, and Xander sympathised. This was all *way* too confusing. "When he wakes up, if he's strong enough -- great idea about that, by the way -- you should suggest it."

"Do I have to?" Xander whined, part of him shying away from the idea completely, -- Drink someone's blood? A vampire's blood? No way! -- while another part of him actually liked the idea. In fact, part of him was liking it just a little *too* well, and Xander shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the pressure. As he thought about it, really thought about it, he suddenly realized it didn't seem as gross an idea as it should have. A wave of embarrassment rolled over Xander as he suddenly remembered Angel's acute senses.

"Don't be embarrassed, Xander, it's normal."

Xander eyed him skeptically, even as he blushed from head to toe.

Angel smirked, but turned back toward the window. As he began to speak, he slowly reached over and pulled the curtains closed, the sky already lightening with false dawn. "Who's responsible?" he asked abruptly. "Who did this to my -- our -- Childe?"

Xander giggled. He couldn't stop himself. Despite everything that was happening, or maybe because of it, the slightly -- slightly?! -- hysterical bubbles of laughter couldn't be stopped.

Angel looked over his shoulder, watching him warily, looking as though he thought Xander had finally lost it, had finally gone completely 'round the bend.

"S-sorry," Xander gasped in between the giggles. "Our child?" he asked. "Does that make us married now?"

Angel snorted, his own laughter surprising him. "You have a *weird* sense of humor, Xander Harris!"

Xander shrugged. "You're just *now* figuring that out, Deadboy?" he asked, not able to resist the old nickname. "Oh, and by the way. . . ."

"What?"

"You're the wife."

"I am *not*!"

"Oh, you so *are*!"

"I--" Angel shook his head. "Forget it. And I have no idea what we would be considered to each other. Like I said, the last time this happened was a thousand years ago, and that by rumor only."

Those words sobered both of them instantly. They were obviously into uncharted territory -- at least unrecorded. Recorded? "Hey! Would the watchers have anything about this in their books?"

"Hmmm, it's possible," Angel admitted, "but doubtful." At Xander's instantly discouraged expression, Angel continued. "But it's something we can look into later, when everything's settled down."

Xander nodded. Yes, something *else* came first. Something deep inside him knew that beyond his own desire for vengeance was that *Spike* would need this. William, he wasn't so sure about. He shook himself out of his thoughts. For now, they both needed sleep. And *that*, Xander realized, suddenly created a new problem. There was only one remaining place to sleep -- the fold out couch.

"Um, Angel, I know I was teasing earlier, but I *really* don't want to sleep with you."

A short, loud belly laugh erupted from Angel. "That's pretty much a given, and it's mutual by the way. What brought *that* on?"

"There's only one place left to sleep," Xander replied, waving vaguely in the direction of the couch.

"Oh!" Angel smirked. "You meant *literally*.

Xander's eyes widened comically. "Of course I meant literally!" he exclaimed heatedly. "The other's just, just. . . ."

"Unthinkable?"

" *So* unthinkable it's not worth mentioning," Xander retorted darkly.

e pre problem is easily solved anyway."

"It is? You're offering to take the floor then?"

"No, you should go in with Spike."

"Wha?! Listen, Angel. Just because--"

Angel cut him off, exasperated. "Touch is important, Xander -- imperative for him at this stage."

"Really?"

Angel nodded. "It's always important, but for fledglings it's even more so. It helps to . . . ground them. Vampires are nesting creatures. We build families to travel with, to sleep with, to share eternity with. To be without that is . . . torture. It's. . . ."

"Lonely."

Angel nodded. "Unbearably so."

Xander stared uncertainly at the still closed bedroom door. That last little bit of information gave him so much more insight into both Spike and Angel, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for all the crud he'd put them both through -- especially Spike. He sighed. This was all so new, so tentative, so unsettling. **Grow up!** he thought to himself, rolling his eyes in his own exasperation, suddenly striding toward his linen closet. Jerking out sheets, a blanket, and a pillow, he dropped them onto the couch.

"Good night," he said, turning abruptly and heading for bed.

"Wait."

Xander groaned. He was going to lose his new-found nerve if Angel delayed him too long. He didn't know where he found it in the first place. "What?"

"We still need to plan. You still need to tell me who the hell did this to Spike!"

Sighing, Xander turned around to face Angel squarely. "Someone called Dr. Weisenburg. He and his goons held--"

"Weisenburg!" Angel shouted, startling Xander into silence.

"Yeah. You know him?"

Angel nodded slowly. "I met him shortly after Buffy's seventeenth birthday."

"Oh, shit!"

"You could say that."

"Um, I realize this is probably a dumb question, but, what did you do to him." At Angel's expression, he hurriedly continued. "Besides the obvious, I mean. You obviously didn't kill him."

Angel shuddered. "No, I didn't. I did something worse."

Now, it was Xander's turn to shudder. What could be worse? Xander had always been of the opinion that anything you survived intact was better than the alternative of not surviving at all. **Oh!** "You didn't, um, *remove* anything did you?"

The question startled a surprised, "No!" out of Angel.

"Then what?"

"You don't want to know," Angel replied sourly.

"Maybe not, but somehow, I think I need to."

Angel sighed, and after a long indecisive moment, relayed an *abbreviated* version of what he and his new minions had done to the doctor ais fis family.

Xander shuddered. "And on that note," Xander whispered hoarsely, turning back toward the bedroom. "I'm going to bed. Planning can wait until we wake up."

"Think about what I told you -- about the blood -- Xander."

Pausing only briefly, his hand on the doorknob, Xander nodded, then disappeared out of the room.

TBC
Kiristeen
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