The Fall

I hope you can pardon the wait. This summer has been rather hectic. I spent the first half doing archaeology at Fort Vancouver to satisfy my field school requirement. This left me with very little time to write. On top of that I was so worn out my brain didn't want to process anything other than artifacts and data so I couldn't write anything coherent. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this part.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make anything from the writing of this story. I do not bear any rights to the characters herein.

The last thing Jesse remembered was the feel of the stake plunging into his heart and the look of surprise and anguish on Xander's face as he turned to dust. He had woken up, clawing at the earth above him, struggling out of the ground. He didn't know what had happened, didn't know how he found himself in the middle of a field, sunlight streaming around him. All he knew was that he was alive; he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his lungs struggling for breath as he sank his fingers into the grass and pulled himself from the ground and into the light. Something was wrong but he didn't care, he was happy to be alive, to be here, and he had to find his friends. Willow and Xander, he hoped they were alright. Slowly he looked around, the scenery was familiar, he was just outside of town, it wouldn't be hard to get to Willow's. He took a step forward, his bare foot crunching on a piece of paper. He immediately stopped, looking down to see what he stepped on. The paper was crumpled, writing in red stood out in sharp contrast, drawing his attention. Slowly he bent down and picked it up, looking at the words written in jagged writing, 'find Buffy'. The writing smeared after that, finger swipes through red, looking almost like blood. He moved forward, somehow knowing just where he needed to go. That's how he found himself on Buffy's porch, his hand poised to knock before finally falling to the wood, waiting for an answer, and that's how Willow found him, standing in the doorframe when Buffy opened the door.
"Willow?" Her name was whispered like a prayer; he smiled slowly, "Oh my god Willow, I'm so happy to see you." He reached forward hesitantly; tears in his eyes, the note still clutched in his other hand.
She took a step back, tears in her eyes, "Is this a trick?" She whispered softly, "You were dead, Jesse, you died."
Buffy eyed him wearily, stepping back with Willow; if he was a vampire he wouldn't be able to come in, "I know, I thought I was dead." He swallowed hard, "I woke up in that field we used to play in, there was a note." He held it out to them, his hand crossing the threshold.
Buffy took it from him, "If you're alive then you don't need an invitation." She stated, daring him to come inside.
He took a step forward, crossing the threshold, "Willow, I was so scared." He took a hesitant step toward her, not wanting to scare her.
She moved forward, embracing him tightly, crying softly into his shoulder, "Jesse, I'm so happy you're alright, that you're here."
He hugged her in return, closing his eyes, "Me too." He said softly, "Me too."
Buffy looked down at the paper, "Is this blood?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at it.
"I don't know, it was there when I woke up. I didn't know what else to do but I knew I had to find you, I feel like I'm missing something important."
Willow hugged him again, "We'll figure it out, I promise." She pulled back, letting out a little laugh, pulling back, "You're filthy."
He smiled, laughing softly, "Yeah, I am." He paused, "Umm, what am I going to do now? How long has it been?"
"Six weeks since you...died." Willow said softly, keeping a hand on his arm as though to make sure he didn't disappear.
"Can I sit down?"
Buffy motioned to the couch, "So, I'm not sure what we're going to do. I mean, Jesse is supposed to be dead, if he were to show up wouldn't people notice?"
Willow shook her head, "Do you really think they'd notice? I swear, people here don't care." She took a seat beside him, "It's ok Jesse."
He shook his head, looking down at his lap, "It's not, not really. I know things can't go back to the way they were but I know we can figure something out." He gave her a small smile, "I mean, it's not like they had a body or anything." He paused, "What was said?"
"That you were a runaway." The red head's fingers dug into his arm slightly, "Maybe it would work..." She trailed off, looking thoughtful, "Maybe you could just come back." She smiled broadly, hugging him tight, "I'm so happy to see you."
He returned her embrace, "Me too, Wills, me too." He closed his eyes, holding her close.
***
Angelus wasn't always the most patient of demons and waiting for the arrival of the bus carrying the so called 'Anointed One' definitely was trying what little he had. The Brethren of Aurelius were a quiet bunch, all pomp and ritual, he was suddenly glad he had never joined the Master's court. He watched as one of them stood firmly in the middle of the road, the bright lights of the bus illuminated his form, casting a long shadow behind. The smell of burning rubber permeated the air as the bus driver slammed on the breaks. Angelus smirked, striding forward as the bus skidded to a stop, jerking the door open and stepping up with a dark smile.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I hope you've had a pleasant trip but I'm afraid it's coming to a rather sudden stop." He lashed out, grabbing the bus driver by the front of his shirt, jerking him forward and tossing him out the door into the waiting arms of the brethren. He laughed as the remaining six people on the bus panicked, a young woman held her young son close, pulling him toward the back of the bus, away from the vampire, "You can try to run, it just makes it that much more fun." He licked his lips, eyes locking on a larger man as he moved forward, "I think you'll do nicely as a decoy." The man swung at him, clipping his jaw, wringing a growl from the vampire as he retaliated with his own swing, the force slamming him into the seats, "Stay down." He growled, punching him again as one of the humans got the back emergency exit open, letting in another of the brethren.
Angelus grabbed the mother of the boy, snapping her neck as she reached for her child, reached for the son that was quickly scooped up by the brethren. She crumpled to the ground, Angelus turning away and pulling the dazed man to his feet, smiling at him before driving his fangs into his throat and drinking deeply.
"Welcome to the real world." He smirked, slitting his own wrist and holding it to the man's mouth, making him drink before pulling him from the bus and tossing him to the side, "I take it you've got the kid?" He questioned, looking at one of the brethren, when he nodded Angelus spoke, "Good, I have some things I need to get done." He stated, heading back to where he left Xander.
The teen was still waiting for him, holding a pipe he had found in the tunnel. The moment Angelus came into sight he swung, the pipe making contact with his shoulder, knocking him into the wall. He growled lowly, eyes narrowed as he stalked forward. Xander shook as Angelus grabbed the pipe and jerking it from his fingers. The teen backed away, hitting the wall, his eyes glued on the vampire. The pipe clanged to the ground as the vampire tossed it away.
"Did you really think that would work? I'm the only thing keeping you alive right now, you're not safe here."
"I know I'm not! Why do you think I had the pipe?"
He moved closer, nearly pressing his body to the human's, "And why did you swing at me?" His voice was low as his hand came up to wrap around his throat, "What possessed you to lash out at the only one who is protecting you? The only one who doesn't plan to kill you anytime in the near future."
He gasped softly, "Because you're a vampire. You're one of them."
A slow squeeze, just enough to cut off the sir, "I'm not one of them. Don't you dare lump me in with those...sycophants." Xander's fingers gripped at the hand around his throat, struggling for breath, "I suggest that you refrain from such things in the future." He released him, shoving him against the wall, "Let's go, we have to find a place to stay."
He turned away, expecting the teen to follow. All through the walk out Xander stayed as close as he could, his eyes darting to the shadows where he knew other vampires were hiding. As they were on their way out, the brethren were on their way in. Xander's eyes were immediately drawn to what they were carrying with them, his eyes growing wide as he saw the boy one of them was holding. He lunged and Angelus lashed out, grabbing his arm as he fought to get closer, struggled to save the boy they were carrying.
"Hey! Let him go!" He shouted, trying to jerk his arm away.
"Shut up." Angelus hissed, pulling him into him close, "There's nothing you can do."
"I can't let them hurt him! He's just a kid!" He struggled against the vampire's solid form.
Angelus hissed lowly, his fingers closing around the teen's throat, "It's too late, he's already lost. You should worry more about yourself and what I'm going to do to you. I was thinking some nice thick chains and a leather whip, how does that sound to you?" His voice was a low menacing hiss.
Xander's fingers gripped at his hand, attempting to loosen his grip, "S-Stop." He gasped.
"We're leaving." He loosened his grip, shifting it to his arm instead, dragging him out of the tunnels.
The moment they stepped into the night air the teen was released. He gasped for breath, rubbing his throat, "I think that'll leave a mark." His glare was focused on the vampire, dark eyes narrowed with pure loathing.
Angelus raised an eyebrow, "Do you think I care? Your actions have consequences. If you defy me you get hurt, it's quite simple." Xander refused to reply, looking away. The vampire sighed, "Let's get going." He turned away, long strides driving him forward with Xander close behind.
***
Guilt weighed heavy on his conscience. He felt responsible for what happened to that boy. Those vampires had done something horrible, something unforgivable, and he had let them. He could have fought against Angelus harder, resisted even when threatened with whips and chains. He hadn't fought, the threat hit too close to home after what he had experienced at the hands of the Master's minions. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the bruises, the wounds, how much his body ached as he was hung from the beam in the warehouse. He hated feeling so weak and Angelus seemed to revel in his discomfort. Of course he couldn't be sure that Angelus wouldn't use whips and chains on him even though he complied. His thoughts whirled, his mind coming up with the worst possible scenarios. Bound and forced to scream for his captor's pleasure. He shuddered at the thought.
"We're here." Angelus' voice brought him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to an old mansion on the outskirts of town.
Xander's eyes traveled over the decrepit house, taking in the peeling paint and slowly warping wood, "What are we doing here?"
Angelus chuckled softly, "Our new home. Did you think I was going to keep you in the sewers with bat-face and his minions? I have more class than that, boy."
"What are you going to do now?"
The dark smirk that spread across the vampire's face made him swallow hard and take a step back, but it was the words that followed that made him want to turn tail and run, "Now, we're going to play a little game."
Xander swallowed hard, "What kind of game?" He stood firm, his gaze fixed on the vampire.
"Here's how it works. For each room that you clean I will give you one thing that you desire, within reason."
He crossed his arms over his chest, "And if I refuse to play this little game?"
A dark chuckle slipped past his lips, his eyes flashing gold, "Well, it wouldn't be a proper game without a penalty. Should you refuse to play, you will be hung from the ceiling and whipped, one lash for each hour you refuse to play." He paused, "If you do not clean to my specifications you will be hung up and whipped."
"Sounds like I don't have a choice, I clean or you whip me."
He shrugged, "It's your choice, clean or be whipped, completely up to you."
The teen could feel his stubbornness bubbling up, "Well, you can take your game and you can shove it up your..." The crack of flesh against flesh cut him off as his head snapped to the side.
"I know what you were about to say, boy, don't you dare curse at me, ever." Angelus' eyes were golden in his anger, "It doesn't matter to me if you refuse the game, I get to have my fun either way."
Xander's fingers touched his cheek, looking belligerent and angry, his gaze locked on the golden eyes, "I'm not playing your game."
"Very well." He grabbed his arm, pulling him forward and into a large open room, "This shall be your new home for while." He pulled out a thick pair of chains.
"Where did those come from?" He hissed, struggling against his grasp.
"I'm always prepared." He chuckled darkly, pointing to a large duffle bag, "I snagged it from old bat face." In one smooth move he tossed an end over a large beam, quickly snapping them around his wrists, "I need to get some things installed to make this go smoother. This will have to do for now." Xander's feet barely touched the floor, his arms taut above his head, "Comfortable?" He paused, as if waiting for an answer, "Good, we can get started."
Angelus was silent as he went over to the bag, looking through the objects within. Xander attempted to look, trying to turn in his bonds, to catch a glimpse of what Angelus was doing. The vampire stood, turning to face the teen with a long blade in hand, it gleamed in the low light. Xander's eyes grew wide as he caught sight of the blade, his chocolate eyes locked on the sharp implement. Angelus smirked, moving forward, shifting the blade in his hand, twisting it to the side so that it caught the light. Not a word escaped his lips as he drew closer, watching as the teen tried to back away, tugging at the chains that held him. The blade slid into the collar of Xander's borrowed shirt, splitting it down the back. His back was revealed, an open canvas for his work. The skin was unblemished, even after the torture he had received from the Master's minions.
"A fresh canvas, just for me to draw on, to create my art. Of course I had to ruin a perfectly good shirt to get to it but I think it's worth it."
Xander's eyes were narrowed to slits, his gaze focused on the vampire and the blade in his hand, "And here I thought you said whipping, not cutting me up."
"Who said I was going to use this on you?" He paused, "I don't think I ruled out the blade, I never said I wouldn't use it on you." He put the blade aside, "I'm not going to use it on you today, or at least at this moment. I think a whip will be the sufficient at this time." He returned to the bag, his fingers wrapping around the handle of a black, braided leather bull whip, "Perhaps more than sufficient." He gave it a hard crack, the sound echoing through the room.
Xander tensed, gripping at his chains, holding tight to the links as Angelus cracked the whip once more, "Are you going to hit me or not?" His voice came out a little high, betraying his fear.
"So eager to feel the whip?" He raised an eyebrow, "Very well." He swung back, the whip cracking down, slashing across the unblemished skin of his back.
The teen's eyes widened, his back arching away from the strike. He jerked, tugging at his bonds as the whip sliced down again. A loud keen escaped his throat as he tossed his head back, writhing under the whip. He tensed with every whistle through the air, cried out with every strike. Angelus laughed, purring lowly at the sounds of pain that escaped Xander's lips. He brought it down a final time, watching as the teen went limp in his bonds, tears streaked down his cheeks. There was blood; the last few had cut into his skin leaving streaks of red to trickle down his back. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the whip aside, his fingers moving to touch his back, to examine his wounds. He whimpered lowly as Angelus' fingers were coated in blood, as he slowly probed the wounds. He itched to taste the blood, to feel it on his tongue. Without a thought his fingers touched his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste the boy, his boy. He barely held back a groan, the taste exploded across his tongue, dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon.
"I could get used to this." He purred, chuckling darkly, "You taste amazing." His fingers traced the wounds again, "You get to hang here for a time and think about what you've done and about your participation in the game."
***
The soft hum of words echoed through the night, dancing through the forest, through the trees. Figures cloaked in black circled the glow of flames colored blue. One of them approached the fire, tossing their hood back. A young man stood there, his dark hair catching the blue from the flames. His skin was pale and his eyes were amber, wolf eyes.
"On this night we give thanks to our mother, to the soft light that she gives to us. We ask for her blessing, we ask for her guidance." He spread his hands out, standing close to the fire, "Mother of the wilds, of the night, of the wolves and the creatures that roam beneath the moon's light, we ask for your protection on this night."
A howl pierced the night, the circle of seven tossing their head back and joining in, raising their voices in reply. The young man by the fire brought his right hand forward, holding it over the flames, letting the heat spread around his fingers. The other six moved forward, each putting their right hand into the flames. The seven howled again, hoods falling back the flames illuminating the group of males, amber wolf eyes turned to the moon.