Broken (AKA Beautiful Broken)

*


Xander grew steadily colder and he pulled the duster around his chilled body. He had woken several times as various aches registered and now he woke as Spike pulled the car off the freeway and over a couple of potholes. Xander didn't bother looking out the windows. He just felt numb. A second jet of warm air found his face as Spike redirected another heating vent even as he pulled the car to a stop.

"Pet?" Spike asked.

"Yes?" Xander answered wearily.

"Pet, I have to leave for a minute." Xander wondered how long a minute would be, but he didn't have a right to ask, and he could only hope this wasn't Spike's way of leaving him permanently, not that he'd blame the vampire. He waited for Spike to turn the car off and leave.

"Pet?" This time he didn't answer. If Spike was telling the truth, he wanted Spike to leave so he could come back. If Spike was leaving now that he had come to his senses and realized his slave was too damaged, well then Xander just wanted to be alone so he could cry. He uncurled his fingers from the coat and dreaded the loss of that protection even as he started to push it off his back and toward Spike. A hand landed on his shoulder and held him still. "Xander?" Spike called again, and Xander looked up into blue eyes.

"Xander, you need the warmth from the coat and the heater, but I don't want to leave the car unlocked and running. If I lock you in here with the keys, will you unlock the door for me when I come back?"

"Yes," Xander answered automatically. Spike reached over, and Xander could feel a slightly warm hand against his own face. The hand reached down and Spike put a finger under the black links that made Xander's collar.

"Who put this on you, pet?" Spike asked firmly as he pulled the collar just tight enough that Xander felt it.

"You did."

"And who bought you?"

"You did."

"Who do you belong to?" Xander hesitated at that. He had given himself to Lirowaus, but Lirowaus was dead.

“No one.” Spike sighed, and Xander flinched as he realized that he had displeased again.

“If I gave away the pouf’s precious hotel, sold it right from under his fat arse, who would still legally own the hotel, pet?”

Xander answered easily. “Angel.”



“Right,” Spike smiled triumphantly and Xander could feel his body respond, tension seeping from him as he realized he’d answered right.

“And who owned ya before we went into that wanker’s place?”

“You did,” Xander said quietly, not wanting to remind himself of what he had given up, but another part of his brain nagged at him. He pulled his brows together and tried to figure out what was nagging at him.

“Go on. Say it.” Spike ordered. Xander remained silent as he tried to awaken some part of his brain that kept trying to point something out. Finally the pieces clicked together. Spike had put the collar on him before he'd given himself away, so he never had the power to give himself away. He considered his answer before giving it.

"I belong to you, Master. I couldn’t give myself away because I didn’t own myself." Xander felt the pain in his soul release its hold even as his back and neck checked in with their respective agonies. He was Spike’s, and that should bother him, but it didn’t. What did bother him was that he had allowed someone else to touch him when he belonged to Spike, and Xander’s logical brain sent up flares over that thought, but Xander didn’t take time to process them; he just relaxed into the seat.

As long as he was Spike’s, he could relax because Spike would take care of things…even if the vampire’s version of taking care meant draining him. Considering that he stunk of another demon’s come and thus constantly reminded Spike that he’d had his property stolen right out from under him, he still expected Spike’s patience to snap right before Xander’s neck followed suit. It didn’t scare him or worry him, he just expected it.

"Right. And will you open the door when I get back?" Spike asked again.

"Yes, Master," Xander answered.

"I'll be right back, but I've got to get something." With that Spike swept out of the car and slammed the door with a click of the lock. Xander reached a hand out to finger the leather of the coat Spike had left with him. He pulled it closer as the seconds became minutes and Xander found himself battling his fears. He was Spike’s. Spike wouldn’t leave him. Spike might erase the humiliation of being captured by killing the evidence—namely him—but Spike wouldn’t leave him. Xander was practically chanting that out loud by the time Spike rapped at the window.

Xander hit the unlock button and felt the rush of cold night air as Spike got in again. Xander looked up sleepily and even in the brief flare of light as the door opened he could see that Spike was darker, pinker. That meant someone was dead, and Xander struggled to remember why that was wrong. Failing in his attempts to gather his thoughts, Xander fell asleep again just as a hand began stroking his hair gently.

Xander didn’t wake again until the car stopped in front of an unmarked brick building, and the grey in the sky warned of the coming dawn. When Xander felt the passenger side door open, he struggled to rise and step to his Master’s side, but his legs screamed in pain, and tears instantly ran down his cheeks. He could hear Spike making some sort of soothing noise and then he was wrapped in the coat and picked up. They went through a locked door after Spike used a cell phone to call someone and get them buzzed in, and Xander had insisted he could stand.

Spike let him down during the phone call, but one preternaturally strong arm stayed around his waist, and even through the agony, Xander realized that he was so pathetic that Spike was holding most of his weight. Once inside, Xander continued to “stand” by his Master while Spike supported him. A variety of demons and humans waited within, but a small human-looking being rushed up. Xander tried to focus on his impossibly red hair in order to combat the pain. Only the leather strings had equaled this, and Xander ignored Spike’s curt exchange. Xander wanted to sit…hell, he wanted to lie down and die, but Spike just started walking toward the far end where the redhead had gone through a door. Before they reached their destination, the door slammed open again.

“Oh my, someone has been getting himself into quite a bit of trouble.” A blue demon with thick arms and legs shuffled over even as he bellowed in a deep voice that penetrated Xander’s haze. Xander felt a finger touch his cheek just as he flinched back away, his neck and back and shoulders protesting loudly even as he groaned into Spike’s supporting shoulder.

“Had a car accident; think he’s got whiplash and his heart’s beatin’ too bloody fast.” Spike said, and now Xander realized that Spike was worried about him, which led to thoughts that something was really wrong with him.

“Hmm. Limbs cool, elevated heart rate…bring him in,” the demon gestured, and Xander allowed Spike to mostly carry him into a small room where Spike helped him up onto the table. Something was wrong with the room, but Xander couldn’t figure out what… heck, Xander couldn’t seem to figure out a lot of things right now. A hand wrapped around his wrist, and Xander almost panicked, but Spike’s arm encircled his shoulders and the smell of leather surrounded him. “Yes, humans are terribly fragile. Lay him on his stomach please.” Xander was still trying to figure those words out when an arm lowered him to the table and started pulling the coat off him. Xander grasped the coat refusing to let go, somehow convinced that if he lost the coat he’d lose something horribly important; he just didn’t know what. Words were exchanged, and then the coat was pushed up as Xander was turned to his stomach.

Xander tried not to think about all the things that could happen to him in this position, and the coat now draped over his face as a dry finger poked various parts of back. He inhaled the leather smell just as he felt the tremors start, and then many hands were on him, pulling him up, and Xander couldn’t help it, he started to struggle with muscles that screamed in pain and a feeling like the air had turned to pudding so that he had to push through it.

“Sh, pet. I’m right here, not goin’ anywhere,” Xander heard the words and he clung to the speaker even though his mind couldn’t seem to settle on who was speaking: friend, enemy, ally, master, safety, viciousness. A dozen thoughts chased themselves in his head and he couldn’t grab one. Fragments of conversations floated by as he felt the sharp pain in his arm. He thought Spike was feeding, only that caused a wonderful burning, pulling, sexy feeling, and this just hurt.

“…neurogenic shock…”

“I gave him some of my blood…”

“Little over two hours….”

“…critical…patient.”

“…cold…car heater.”

Xander let himself drift off to sleep without putting all the pieces together.

Xander’s next awareness was of stiff sheets. Then he noticed that his hand was on a very rough blanket. The sensation of tubes up his nose and restraints around his right arm appeared simultaneously, and Xander’s eyes sprang open as he looked down at an arm immobilized by a board and bristling with tubes and needles. He started breathing heavily as he tried to figure out what had been real and what had been fantasy, and then he noticed his cheek. It rested against something warm and smooth and soft. With the tubes in, he couldn’t really smell, but the sight of Spike’s duster folded and tucked under his head told him everything he needed to know. When everything else had fallen apart, including his sanity, Spike had been there. Xander started to shift as a pain in his neck gathered strength, and a blond head appeared in front of him.

“How are ya?” Spike asked. Xander considered his possible answers and the horrible places he could have woken up, like waking up finding himself still attached to Lirowaus, the demon’s penis engorged and lodged inside Xander’s body while he lay helpless, too tired to even pull himself off. Yep, he’d been much worse in his life.

“Fine, Master,” he answered as he tried not to move and set off another wave of pain.

“You’re bloody well not fine,” Spike snapped, and Xander flinched. “It’s alright, pet.” Spike quickly assured him. “Remember back when that fledge knocked ya head first into the tombstone?” Xander almost nodded and the pain stopped him.

“Yes, Master.”

“Compared to that, do you feel physically better, about the same, worse, or much worse?”

“Much worse, Master,” Xander answered honestly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll be right back.” Xander didn’t have time to protest being left alone because Spike was gone and Xander hurt too much to shift around to look for him. Before he even had time to mentally complain, Spike was back, another demon in tow.

“Well?” Spike demanded even as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Xander into his lap. The movement caused incredible pain, but the comfort of being in Spike’s lap made it more than worth it.

“Moderate shock, some muscular damage, no doubt from the car accident, some anal abrasions, not unusual for a human who has serviced a Kailiff demon. Human bodies really are quite remarkable at healing, which is good considering how easily they break,” the doctor laughed, and Xander didn’t think it was a nice laugh at all.

“Will he bloody heal?” Xander lay curled in Spike’s lap and almost laughed. Healing was way beyond him. He knew he wouldn’t ever heal, but he guessed that Spike meant physically.

“Oh, certainly. The shock was the most severe problem, and the fluids have stabilized him. I would recommend leaving him on the drip and keeping him warm; with those two treatments, he’ll be right as rain. Now the pain is really another issue. He’ll heal on his own just fine, and if you don’t want to pay for treatment, you’re not doing him any long term damage at all.”

“I’m not leavin’ him to suffer,” Spike growled, and the doctor must have made the same assumption Xander did: Spike was out of patience.

“We can administer human drugs to reduce the pain and inflammation or for a significantly larger fee have a healer perform a restorative ceremony.” Xander was amazed that the doctor actually did know how to give a direct answer.

“Get the healer,” Spike said, and Xander felt clever fingers playing with locks of hair. Xander just curled up and pushed aside a thousand worries that floated beneath the surface like depth charges ready to sink his psyche as he took deep breaths and just tried to center himself on Spike’s presence.

“Pet, ya alright?” Spike asked, and Xander did a self-check: curled in a fetal position with his right arm sticking out awkwardly, clinging to Spike’s coat with his left hand as though it was a child’s blankie, and on the verge of crying. Yep, real manly.

“No, Master,” he finally offered.

“Meant the mental part, pet,”

“I know, Master,” Xander answered honestly. “Though physically I hurt too.”

“Yeah, well the physical part I’m not bloody surprised. Remind me not ta let you play bumper cars with a Lexus again, but the healer will be here in a bit. So, what’s not right with the mental part?” Xander thought about the many things not right mentally.

“I got the girls sent away,” Xander settled on.

“You bloody well did not. Lirowaus did that, and he soddin’ paid for it too.” Spike interrupted him. Xander remained silent because he could still remember the look of betrayal on Willow’s face when he had turned down the offer to move into a room with her and Tara. Spike snorted into the silence. “You’re not buyin’ that are ya?” he asked.

“No, Master.”

“Bloody hell. You don’t control the universe pet; you couldn’t have kept Lirowaus from sendin’ her away.”

“But, Master, she argued with him over me. She tried to attack him with a spell only he had some sort of counter-spell,” Xander pointed out, the memories coming more clearly now that he could string his thoughts together coherently.

“And she would have fought over somethin’ else if you hadn’t been there. Red’s not one to take things quietly; the bint took on Angelus, and the only other human I know who ever did that without payin’ the price was you.” Xander felt a hand on his leg, and the twinges of pain didn’t diminish his comfort in feeling that touch. “Both of ya are stronger than ya give yourselves credit for,” Spike offered.

Xander allowed himself to be resettled back into the bed as the healer appeared, dressed in bones and feathers with a long staff that seemed to be covered in rat skulls, though he could be wrong about that. She certainly seemed mystical enough, Xander thought as he lay back, his head on the duster which was in Spike’s lap. The healer chanted and rattled and hummed until Xander finally fell back asleep.

“William,” a deep voice said. And Xander opened his eyes feeling actually human, which considering he was in a hospital that considered humans inferior might not be the best way of expressing the physical wholeness he felt. Of course it didn’t hurt that he was still in Spike’s lap. The voice though…that voice really didn’t belong here.

“Bloody hell, aren’t you supposed to be gettin’ those witches out of Lirowaus’ place? Thought savin’ humans was part of your whole redemption gig,” Spike complained without moving from the bed.

“Giles and the others are handling that. However, I got a tip that you’d brought Xander here, so I thought I would talk to you before Giles got the same tip.”

“You sent Giles? It’s not like I care about the wanker, but I’m surprised you’re lettin’ him go on the rescue…or did he pull his head out of his arse?” Angel took a single step into the small room and stopped.

“Seeing Xander gave him something worth fighting his way out of the bottle for. He’s determined to bring Xander home and destroy whatever gets in his way. But I think we need to discuss this elsewhere.” Angel’s glance landed on Xander, who suddenly felt like the five-year-old dismissed from his elders’ discussions.

“No, we bloody don’t. I leave and Xan is goin’ to go thinkin’ the worst, and I won’t worry him like that.” Spike’s hand tightened on his shoulder and Xander was grateful for both the hand, and for the healer who had taken away the pain that hand would have caused earlier.

“Is he better?” Angel asked.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I’m asking you, William. I don’t trust this attachment you’ve formed; you never liked Xander.” A few days earlier, this might have upset Xander, but now he could both see the truth in the words and see that Angel was trying to drive a wedge between them.

“I bloody hated parts of Droopy Harris, but Xan’s mine, and whether you trust me or not he’s stayin’ mine.”

“He’s the same person, and this strategy of trying to get him to separate who he was and who he is now…it isn’t healthy for a human.”

“Not healthy is havin’ people who make ya feel like you’re less just because you’re different. You two just about destroyed him, and you’ll stay out of my soddin’ way now.”

“So he’s better?” Angel asked again.

“Pet, are ya better now than you were in Sunnydale?”

“No, Master.”

“And I’d say his willingness to admit that means he’s better, but we’ve had a rough spot or two since we left.” Xander watched Angel’s eyes narrow suspiciously as he stepped farther into the room.

“He smells of Kailiff demon. What have you done, William?” Angel’s eyes now glinted with gold and Xander pushed back into Spike’s embrace even as part of him suggested that he move so that Spike can move quickly. “Did you let that slaver….”

“Course not, and don’t even suggest it. Got caught unawares, and the boy traded himself to keep me safe. He did something you and Darla and even Dru never did for me; he put me bloody first, and because of that, I’ll put him bloody first, even over you Angelus, so don’t come in here and try to play sire. I’ll knock ya on your fat arse.”

“William, if you really care…”

“And if you finish that by saying ‘let him go,’ I’ll make you eat that god-awful shirt. Do yourself a favor, Peaches; don’t wear yellow. I know how to take care of ‘im better than you lot.”

“I…” Angel got no farther because Xander decided enough was enough. He trusted Spike; he belonged to Spike, and he was just coming to accept that he might even want to belong to Spike, but he didn’t have to listen to Deadboy.

“No.” Xander said in a steady voice.

“Xander, I know you’re really confused, and I understand what you’ve been through…”

“No,” Xander said again. “I’ve been blaming myself since I was five. People have looked at me like I had somehow failed, and I got very good at doing the failing, but that’s not how Spike looks at me. He trusted me to go into Lirowaus’ with him. I helped him get into the slave auctions. I’m going to help get the girls back. Leave us alone, Deadboy.” Xander took a deep breath, not knowing if he’d just gone entirely too far, but he could feel Spike’s arms tighten in a quick hug.

“Wot he said,” Spike insisted. “The two of us might be the ones that always get left behind, but we bloody well have each other. Now, if I can get him well enough to tell you off, I can take care of him just fine, so sod off, sire.” Xander watched as Angel’s face showed minute traces of emotion. The anger and the frustration were easy to spot, but half a dozen others slid across his features until finally he sighed heavily.

“Spike, if you turn him or hurt him, I’ll have to track you down.”

“Not your bloody business, but I don’t plan on either.” Angel nodded at that answer and turned back toward the door.

“I’ll try to keep Giles off your trail, but he’s heard that the next auction is in Nevada, and it won’t take him long to find out where.”

“Like I said, not afraid of that wanker,” Spike insisted.

“You should be. He’s been more Ripper than Giles in the past few days, and if he finds you, it’s not going to be pleasant.” The two vampires locked gazes with each other and Xander wished he could read minds. He knew full well that Angel had avoided staking both Spike and Drusilla back when Spike had been evil. Okay, back when Spike had been more evil, but now the expression hinted at a depth that Xander couldn’t touch. Finally Angel turned to leave.

“Thanks, mate,” Spike said as Angel opened the door. Angel stood frozen with the door open and his back to them, silent and still for several seconds as though considering some profound response, but then he left without another word. Silence filled the emptiness that even Xander could feel in the older vampire’s absence.

“You love him,” Xander whispered. He remembered feeling relief around Leshar, but he couldn’t imagine loving the person who had broken him.

“Yeah, pet. Problem is that Angelus didn’t just break me, he helped put me back together after.” Xander didn’t answer, but he understood. He knew how easy it was to love the person who reached into that pit of desolation and despair and offered a way out. He completely understood that emotion.