Not Forgotten

Spike paced. What was wrong with Xander? Why was he practically mute?

Shit.

They needed help. But who could they turn to? The Scoobies? Not a chance. They’d probably stake both of them. He could just hear Giles now. ‘He’s an abomination. He cannot be allowed to live.’ Pah. Xander wasn’t an abomination. He was, um, special? He glanced over at his Childe and felt sadness wash over him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Xander should be snarling, growling, itching to make his first kill. As things were, he hadn’t even shown his gameface. He looked exactly the same as when he’d died. A frightened teenager.

Spike tried to think. Who else could help them? Dru? No idea where she was. Angel? Spike would rather sit on a twelve inch stake and swivel. So where did that leave them? Spike cursed and kicked the wastepaper bin across the floor.

With a sharp intake of breath, Xander flinched and bolted from the bed. What was going on? Why was this man angry with him?

“Whoa, little pet. Take it easy.”

Xander backed up until his back hit the work bench.

“Xander. Ain’t gonna hurt you, luv.”

Not understanding, Xander grabbed the first object that came to hand and threw it across the room.

“Argh! Fuck!” Spike shouted as the heavy book connected solidly with his nose.

Xander jumped at Spike’s outburst and grabbed another object, a hammer.

“No!”

Xander jumped again and got ready to throw his weapon.

“No,” Spike tried again, a little quieter this time. “Don’t throw that, pet. C’mon, ain’t gonna hurt you. Put the hammer down and…what?”

Xander dropped the hammer and carefully approached his Sire. He scented the air and narrowed his eyes at the blood streaming from Spike’s nose. Very slowly, he ran two fingers across Spike’s bloody lips and brought the fingers to his own mouth for a taste. He tentatively stuck out the tip of his tongue and sampled the ruby fluid. Deciding that, for whatever reason, this was what he wanted, what he needed, he sucked both fingers into his mouth.

“Hungry, eh, pet? Should have guessed. Sorry.”

Spike bit into his own wrist and offered it to his Childe. Xander didn’t hesitate. He clamped his mouth over the wound, closed his eyes and suckled.

Spike repressed a moan. The pull and scent of his own blood was making him hard. This was different to the first time Xander had drunk from him. He had been giving him life, un-life, saving him from mortal death. It had been serious business. This was him providing for his Childe, sharing his blood and feeding him. And it felt seriously arousing. He had to stop this. He was still weak and couldn’t afford to spare any more of his blood. And besides, getting hard over Xander Harris was not somewhere that he wanted to go right now.

He pulled his wrist away from Xander’s lips and chuckled at the tiny growl from his Childe.

“Auww, little pet. Cute. Not bad for your first.”

Spike bent down and snatched up the book that Xander had thrown. “Vampires and Sex,” he read aloud.

Two eyebrows rose as far as they could. “Vampires and Sex?” he repeated. “Now what’s a nice boy like you doing with a dirty book like this?”

Spike flicked through some of the pages. “Very dirty. Nice. My, my, little Xander. Got a kink you haven’t told us about? Always pegged you for a safe sex kinda guy.”

Xander licked the blood from his lips and stared. Something registered that his Sire was asking him something, teasing him, but he couldn’t understand. There wasn’t much he could understand.

Spike chuckled again at the look of confusion on Xander’s face. “Never mind, little pet. We’ll discuss it another time.” He looked down at the book and suddenly had one of his inspired ideas.

“Get your coat on, luv. We might not be able to get the Watcher's help, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t *borrow* his books, right?”

Xander smiled at the mischievous grin that was plastered over Spike’s face.

“That’s it, luv. You and me are gonna have an evening out.”

**

Breaking into Giles’ apartment had been remarkably easy. Spike was almost worried at the lack of security. Almost. Worrying about humans wasn’t something you did when you were evil.

Xander hadn’t been a problem. He’d loyally followed Spike to the apartment, gluing himself to his Sire’s side and not uttering a word. Spike sat him on the couch and put a finger to his Childe’s lips.

“I know you’re not the talkative type anymore, but keep quiet in here. Watcher’s just upstairs. Don’t want to wake him, yeah?”

Xander sat back in the couch and folded his legs under him. Spike took that as a sign that Xander at least half understood. He kept one eye on him and started to rummage through the bookcases.

“Bloody hell. There are some gems here,” he whispered, holding up a couple of volumes.

Xander glanced over, slightly curious. Nope, boring. He sighed and turned his attention back to a painting on the wall.

Spike came across a set of books on vampire culture, history and anatomy. They looked a little familiar. As he noticed that one volume was missing, he realised where Xander’s sex book had come from.

“So, you’re a tea-leaf to boot, eh? Unexpected depths, Xander. Very unexpected.”

Xander sighed louder and pulled at a loose thread on the couch. Spike ‘Eeeped.’ “Crikey, don’t pull at that. You’ll have us shot!”

Spike lightly slapped his hands away and shoved a random book in his hands. “There, have a look at that instead, yeah? Pretty pictures and whatever.”

Xander grinned and flipped open the book.

“Right, then. Now, where was I…oh yeah. Book.”

Spike went on with his search and came up empty. He was about to give up and leave when he noticed a large trunk in the corner of the room. He’d seen it a hundred times before when he’d been cooped up with the Watcher, but Giles had always been uptight about what was inside, saying that it was only books. Spike wondered what sort of books would be under lock and key.

Spike squatted down and pulled a long pin out of his pocket. You never knew when a lock might need picking. “Let's see what old Rupert’s got stashed,” he whispered to himself. Xander came and knelt beside him, watching intently as Spike picked the lock.

“Watch and learn, luv. You have no idea how handy it is to know how to pick a lock…there, done. Shall we see what’s inside, eh?”

Xander grinned back at him and once again Spike wondered whether Xander really understood him or was just doing his best to keep up.

“Blinkin’ flip,” he muttered, picking up centuries old tomes and marvelling. “Can’t believe that bastard has all these. Frinwold’s Book of Dark. Fuck. Better not let Red get her magical paws on that one. Hang on, what’s this? Guide to Making and Raising a Childe. Author, J. R. Hartely. Hm, always thought he was something to do with fishing…or the yellow pages.”

Xander frowned and cocked his head.

“Never mind, pet. Just talking to myself. I think this is what we’re looking for,” Spike said as he carefully put the other books back in the trunk and snapped shut the lock.

The night was still relatively young and Spike could tell by Xander’s very pale colour that he must be hungry. He could show him how to make his first kill, but Spike decided that it wouldn’t be very sensible. If Xander made a mistake and let a human get the better of him, Spike would be unable to help him. The chip made gnawing on humans impossible. The best course of action was definitely to pick up some pig's blood from the late night butchers and head back to the basement for a spot of light reading.

**

Spike ran a bath for Xander. The boy was dirty and reeked of blood.

He pointed to the bath. “Go on, little pet. Clothes off. In you pop.”

Xander sniffed at the water and shook his head. Spike smiled.

“Ah, so you do understand me a little, then, eh? Look, you’re dirty. You really need a wash.” Spike tugged at the bottom of Xander’s shirt. “Get ‘em off and get in the bath.”

Xander cocked his head.

“Oh, bloody hell, do I have to do everything?” Spike huffed and started to unbutton Xander’s shirt.

“Sire.”

“That’s right, pet. Catching on quick, eh?”

Xander smiled and allowed Spike to tug the rest of his clothes off.

“Right, in you go,” Spike said, scooping Xander up and moving him over the bath tub.

Xander wiggled and whimpered, desperately clinging to Spike’s arms.

“Alright, pet. It’s only water. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Spike carefully lowered Xander into the water, mindful to give him time to get used to the temperature before he dropped him in further.

“There you go. Not so bad, is it?”

Spike put the toilet lid down and sat on it, reaching for the book and starting at the beginning.

“Bloody hell, this really is like an instruction book. No wonder ol’ Ripper keeps it hidden away. Hm, says here that a Childe should feed from his Sire for at least two weeks before making a kill and drinking a victim’s blood. But that only applies if trying to raise an equal.”

Spike put down the book.

“Hm, I guess that’s what we want, yeah?”

Xander placed his hands on the side of the bath and turned. “Sire.”

“Yeah, that’s right, luv. I’m your Sire. You’re gonna forget all about that other idiot vampire. You’re mine, got it? Gonna make you strong, like me. Gonna fix you good.”

Spike touched his hand to Xander’s cheek, smiling as his Childe leant into the touch. “C’mon, little pet. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Spike grabbed a wash cloth and washed every inch of his Childe’s body. He hadn’t asked for this. Neither of them had. But they were both stuck with it. It could have been worse. He could have Giles as a Childe. Spike shuddered and massaged shampoo into Xander’s hair. He was going to make sure that Xander grew to be the strongest Childe possible. He’d do him proud.

“There, little pet. All done. Cat-nap time, I think. Time all us bad vamps were in bed.”

Xander wrapped his wet arms around Spike’s shoulders as he was pulled up and out of the bath. “Sire.”

“Yep. And you know what else?”

“Sire?”

“Gonna teach you some more words.”

**

Spike watched his Childe sleep while he chained through at least ten cigarettes. He’d skimmed all the way through the ancient instruction manual, plucking out the most relevant pieces of information for now. There had even been a chapter on cross-siring. It seemed that the Sire to Childe bond would grow the more that they exchanged blood. As long as Xander drank from him often and plenty, the bond would strengthen and so would Xander. Xander’s condition seemed to be very similar to that of an underdeveloped fledge, a fledge that had only been fed a drop of blood at his or her turning. The cure? Sire blood, Sire blood and more Sire blood. Xander had the potential to be as strong as he, just so long as he fed plenty.

The only real difference to an underdeveloped fledge was that Xander had none of the aggressive tendencies. Spike wondered if that would come later.

Biggest problem? Xander’s soul. Okay, so Spike didn’t have one, but he wasn’t exactly the nicest puppy in the litter. Xander was different. He needed his soul. Spike had never met a person so full of life and sunshine. There were some dark corners to Xander’s personality, but essentially he was a bundle of light and Spike couldn’t allow him to lose that.

Spike hadn’t felt the expected bond when he’d turned Xander and now he understood why. He hadn’t drunk from Xander. Normally, when turning, a Sire would drink from his ‘victim’ before he gave his blood back. That hadn’t happened. It had been that fuckwit of a fledge that had drunk from Xander. But the bond would come as long as Spike took Xander’s blood.

Spike was surprised to realise that he did feel something, anyway. Not a bond, but something. A longing to help and comfort, a longing to make things right. It wouldn’t be long before the entire Scooby gang came crawling to find their missing whitehat and Spike was determined to sort the boy out before that happened. Xander deserved a chance to get his soul and plead to the Slayer for his un-life.

He snuggled down beside his Childe and wrapped his arms around him.

“Don’t worry, little pet. Make things right, I will. Promise.”

TBC...