Unacceptable Losses

Dawn and Faith followed Angel up the worn stairs to the second floor. He had maintained a forbidding silence during the drive back to the Hyperion, and the tension in his jaw had not encouraged conversation, so Dawn had held Fred secure in the back seat while Faith had watched the city fly out the window by as she tried to anticipate what this latest development would do for the vampire's state of mind. Now back on their home turf, the emptiness of the hotel swelled around them, seeming to muffle their footsteps on the stairs.

Angel opened a door several rooms away from his own, not bothering to look behind him at the women who trailed in his wake. The room had signs of having been inhabited at sometime in the past, but a thin layer of dust covered the dresser and bedside table. He gently set the tiny form down on the neatly made if somewhat musty bed, straightening her limbs. Without turning around, he spoke.

"Get back to the books. Go through everything we have on Riveda and cross reference it with Illyria or the Old Ones. I want to know what he did to her."

"Angel, I've been through everything, already. If there was something there, we would have seen it." Dawn protested, glancing worriedly at Faith behind the vampire's back.

"Do it again."

"But…"

"Do it." This time a growl accompanied the command, and Dawn stifled a gasp as he flashed yellowed eyes at her. She fled the room without another word.

Ignoring Faith's reproachful glare, Angel pulled an overstuffed red velvet upholstered chair from its place by the window, arranging it next to the bed and reached out to hold Fred's slack hand between his larger ones. His soul ached seeing Fred returned to her former room in this condition. The pain only increased as he assumed the too well remembered position of sitting by the bed of a wounded friend. The helplessness of the position angered him. That familiar frustration had kept him from visiting Cordelia more often as she languished in her mystical coma in Wolfram and Hart's medical wing. Guilt tugged at him as he held Fred's unresponsive hand, and he closed his eyes against the unbidden images of Cordelia in a similar position when the visions nearly killed her—twice—that flooded his memory alongside memories of Wesley, Gunn, and Fred in their various hospital beds. He had been in this place too many times, and he hated it.

"Working up a good brood there?"

"Faith, help Dawn or go patrol, but get out."

"What are you gonna do when she wakes up?" Faith crossed her arms and leaned against the door jamb.

Angel bowed his head and didn't offer a response.

"I mean, it's not like we know for sure who it's gonna be when she opens her eyes, do we? Could be right back to Big Blue by morning." She pushed for a reaction, any reaction rather than letting the vampire keep pushing them away.

"That was Fred back there at the mansion. She's still in there." Angel managed to keep his voice even with an effort.

"She's not breathing," Faith pointed out with concern as she came closer to the bed. "Is she…"

"She's still in there," Angel repeated. He rubbed a thumb carefully over the back of the cool hand he held. The lack of respiration concerned him, but he reminded himself that Illyria had not needed to breath, eat or sleep. Her inhabitance of Fred's body had no doubt changed it in fundamental ways, but it had been Fred who spoke to him in Havisham's mansion. He held on to that certainty.

"Angel…" Faith began, not even sure what to she was going to say. Not that it mattered as he cut her off abruptly.

"Faith, enough." He closed his eyes against the tears that gathered there as the image of the small Texan proclaiming him her savior flashed through his mind once more. "Please, go help Dawn."

"Ok, fine, I'll go." She started for the door, but glanced back at the defeated vampire hunched in the chair, keeping watch over the still, small figure that lay so pale against the dark blue quilt. "Angel, I know you don't wanna hear this again, but you're not alone in this. If that's really your girl in there, and she's back, well, it's a helluva changed world she's coming back to. Keep that in mind, yeah? You won't be able to fix it for her. She was part of your team, and you keep pushing everyone who's left away like you are, there won't be any team for her to come back to." She walked out without shutting the door behind her.

Hearing the footsteps recede down the stairs, he whispered brokenly, "There isn't any team for her to come back to."

******************

"Hey, kiddo. You alright?"

Dawn turned from her blank staring at the books and papers that littered the desk.

"I don't know where to start," she said helplessly.

"Maybe that's ‘cause what you were saying upstairs is right." Faith shrugged. "If there had been anything about Illryia in there, we woulda noticed the first time around. And that wasn't exactly what I was asking about." She leaned a hip on the edge of the desk and contemplated the woman before her. Exhaustion had placed dark rings under Dawn's eyes, and she practically drooped with weariness.

Dawn shrugged. "'M fine."

"Right, ‘cause seeing your big brother trussed up as a nasty slave boy is something that happens everyday." Faith decided that she didn't have the patience to beat around the bush, and she didn't feel the need to be anything but direct with Dawn.

Dawn slumped into the nearest chair. "It was horrible," she admitted with a shudder. "I mean, besides the whole incesty ick factor, it's like, like I was looking at someone I didn't even know anymore, you know?"

"Yeah."

"He could have died." She looked up into Faith's concerned eyes, her own filling with tears. "He would have been like that forever."

"But he didn't die, and he's gonna be ok. We got to him in time."

"God, how did this all get so screwed up?" Frustration broke through, and Dawn jumped up, pacing in front of the desk. "Things were supposed to be better here. Instead Angel's being a complete asshole, and Xander's going to sex clubs to have people do god knows what to him. It's getting worse, and I don't know what else to do. I feel like I'm trying as hard as I can, and it doesn't do any good." Tears streamed down her face as she leaned hard against the office wall. "We're failing, and we're gonna lose them both. I can't lose anyone else, not like this, not when we should be able to stop it."

"Hey," Faith shifted uncomfortably. Emotional scenes were so not her strong point, even when she completely understood the feeling. In a way she envied Dawn's ability to let go. She crossed the short distance between them and hesitantly raised a hand to rest on Dawn's shoulder.

"Nobody's lost yet. Spike's taking care of Xander, and we'll figure out what to do with Angel. He may be a stubborn bastard, but he needs us."

"What do we do?" Dawn turned despairing eyes to meet Faith's troubled face.

"Wish I knew. Never really been much for the planning, ya know?" She attempted a grin that she could tell didn't succeed. She sighed, pulling away to run her hands through her hair. "We just keep being here, keep at ‘em both, and don't give up."

Dawn wiped her eyes tiredly and nodded. "I know. It just gets hard sometimes."

"Yeah, it does," Faith agreed with a glance toward the stairs where she would swear she could feel Angel's brooding presence flooding down from the second floor. She shook off the feeling and continued. "Look, we're not gonna find anything tonight, and we're not gonna be any use to anybody tomorrow if we don't get some sleep. I don't know about you, but I'm dead on my feet here."

Dawn nodded again and giving the books one last look before leaving the office and making her way across the lobby to head for her room and a night of no doubt bad dreams. Faith followed, flicking off lights and locking the doors with a weary relief that the day had ended if not well at least with no one dead.

******************

The box of tissues lifted from the bedside table and settled on the comforter next to Spike's leg. Offering a quiet thanks to Dennis, Spike snagged a few tissues and pressed them into Xander's hand. He was all for a good cry, but human snot held little appeal.

Xander scrubbed the tissues across his face, trying to pull away from the vampire, but strong arms refused to let go. The hollow quiet that had settled in his chest following the storm of grief began to fill with an uncomfortable embarrassment.

"What's wrong, pet?" Spike murmured against the dark head resting on his chest.

Xander sighed. "Just…sorry…about all this."

Instead of replying, Spike continued to stroke Xander's shoulders and sides gently, avoiding the places red and swollen from the belt lashes. He sensed the man's rising shame and struggled for a way to stave it off. Xander would be far from ‘fixed' by the night's events; although he hoped that perhaps they had touched on some of the deepest pain and released it. Having Xander back off now and hide away again would only bring the man back to the same desperate straits that he was in originally.

"Xander," Spike spoke slowly, "I don't know what's going on in your head, but I don't need any apologies." He carefully pulled back and tilted Xander's face up to meet his eyes. "Hate that it took so long to figure out what you needed ‘cause it left you holdin' all this by yourself for too long."

Xander closed his eye and reached up to readjust his patch, a nervous habit that he couldn't seem to break. As he reached for the strap, however, he remembered that Spike had made him remove the patch. He abruptly jerked his chin out of Spike's fingers and turned away, flushing deeply.

Spike narrowed his eyes and growled slightly.

Xander jerked back around at the sound, and he felt a thrill of excitement thrum down his spine. Fear and arousal fought for dominance.

"You don't get to hide from me. You gave me your submission tonight, pet, and that's not a gift I take lightly." Spike's eyes flashed yellow as his demon crowed in delight at the thought of owning this human. "Not one I'm gonna throw away or let you take back. That means you don't get to hide from me any more than you get to lie to me."

Xander swallowed thickly and closed his eye on that possessive gaze. "You don't want this."

"What part of not throwing it away or giving it back didn't make it past that thick skull?" Spike caressed the dark hair as he leaned closer to inhale the myriad of scents rising off his boy. Careful hands urged Xander to return to his place resting against Spike's chest. "Or is that yer way of telling me that you don't want this?" He growled once more.

"What? No! I mean, yes, yes with the wanting." Embarrassment at admitting his own need coupled with the fear that shivered through him as he was reminded once more that he was being held by a vampire. Spike's responding chuckle reverberated through his chest.

"That's settled then."

"But…" Xander broke off, misery evident in his voice.

Spike bit back a sigh, recognizing that they weren't going to get through this without a bit more talking.

"I don't have all the answers. Don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow or next week. But what happened tonight felt right, yeah?" At Xander's stilted nod, Spike continued. "I can help you—certainly more than any wankers at some bondage club. Meant what I said about accepting your submission, Xan. Not saying it'll be easy for either of us, but I wanna help if you'll let me."

"Why?" The tentative voice whispered against the bare skin of Spike's chest. Unfortunately, he didn't have an easy answer. While Dawn's love and concern for the man had gotten him into the whole Xander-sitting role in the first place, his feelings had grown well beyond a sense of duty to her. He could feel himself fast losing his heart to this broken man. A century of caring for Dru had pretty much conditioned him to be attracted to a wounded soul that let him offer comfort, and he knew that he risked his heart by continuing down this road instead of simply patting Xander on the ass, telling him goodnight and burying the whole incident as a one-off brought on by the stress and opportunity of the evening.

"Mine now," he vowed, giving the only answer he could.

Xander's cock jumped in response as he felt those two words settle deep inside. He sucked in a deep breath against the accompanying ache caused by the cock ring, recognizing that he must have been wearing it for much longer than was strictly safe despite the mostly-dead hours of the day.

Spike frowned at the slight expression of pain that flitted across Xander's face before following him to the same realization.

"Right then, let's take care of this, shall we?" He snaked a hand between warm thighs to let his index finger whisper along the painfully hard length. Xander twitched away, and Spike let him go.

"You don't, I mean, it's okay. I'll just…" He gestured toward the bathroom and began to make his pained way off the bed.

"Gonna hurt like a bitch after bein' done up for so long." Spike observed casually.

"Yeah," Xander grimaced and continued his slow progress as stiff limbs slowed him down further.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Spike reached out and hauled the man back. Patience might be a virtue, but it was sodding inconvenient.

"Hey!"

"Settle down, pet. Let me help." He shifted them so Xander lay on his side, keeping pressure off his damaged back. Spike slid up to sit behind him, careful not to touch the welts as he reached over to graze fingertips over a warm brown nipple, enjoying the hitch in Xander's breath.

"Spike?" The unformed question hung between them.

"C'n make it hurt less. Let me do this." He increased his ministrations, tugging gently at the pebbling flesh, simultaneously arousing and distracting.

"Oh." Articulate, yep, that was him. Xander gave himself over to the sensation, more than ready to stop with the thinking.

Spike grinned to himself as he felt the tension change from holding back to seeking release, and he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to truly explore all that warm flesh. His own arousal soared as he carefully reached his other hand around to the quick release mechanism on the silver ring.

Xander groaned at the dual sensations of pain and pleasure as Spike's cool fingers formed a loose fist around his cock. Two short gentle pulls had him nearly doubling over as pain and pressure shot through his groin. He hauled in deep breaths as the pain mutated into the relief and pleasure of release, and he rode out the shuddering orgasm, hardly aware of Spike's hands caressing him or the smooth voice in his ear.

"Lovely. Gods, pet, so beautiful," Spike murmured, his own hips bucking slightly as he came quickly in response to the sight and smell of Xander's release. He moved his hand to caress a flushed cheek and lay back, enjoying the quiet panting of his bed-fellow as they both recovered from the fast and much needed release following the night's events.

After a few moments, Spike rose and reached out a hand. "C'mon, mate, let's get you out of that gear and cleaned up."

Xander let out a weary groan and struggled to his feet, letting Spike lead him to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, too exhausted to be embarrassed at having been washed and had his wounds tended to by a naked vampire, he settled back into the bed and slid between the cool sheets. He glanced up to see Spike shifting uncertainly in the doorway, a pair of Xander's sweatpants hanging low on his hips and damp ungelled hair curling appealingly.

"I'll just make up the couch then. Get some sleep."

Xander rolled his eye. "You've spanked me, wanked me and washed me down, and now you get shy? Get over here and get into bed, you freak."

Spike grinned at the boy's use of the British-ism and swaggered over to the bed to cover his relief at the clear invitation. Despite all that had gone on in the last few hours, he felt far from certain of how this shift in their relationship would play out. A spank and a wank, to use Xander's terminology, didn't necessarily make for an overnight invitation, let alone an invitation to share a bed. But if he was honest with himself, both soul and demon would have been mightily pissed off if he had been relegated to the couch.

"Cheers, luv." He yanked off the sweats and crawled under the covers, smirking at the arousal that scented the air once more. He settled on his back, hands folded under his head on the pillow, letting the weariness and comfort at being wanted pull him into sleep.

Next to him, Xander lay awake for a time, allowing himself to recognize the unearthly beauty of his companion and trying to still the worries that the brief peace that the vampire had brought him tonight would be blasted apart with the sunrise until his own exhaustion finally drove him into slumber as well.