Truth Denied

Title: Truth Denied 28/?

Pairings: Spander (eventually)

Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... hard PG13

Warnings: Near death, a little fear, you'll see.

Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.

Short Summary: About five years post NFA, Xander needs a job, like, NOW! And runs into someone he knows where he'd least expect it.

Word Count: 1291 (As per Word 2007 Word Count)

Beta:  LJ User purpledodah and LJ user Laazikaat

X-posted to: full list on my LJ



<i><b>Comments keep my muse well fed.







He sat down in the chair, facing Spike, but not too close. Spike was in an induced sleep from the drugs they’d given him, especially after his fit at finding himself in a hospital when he’d become partially conscious. Spike had nearly broken a nurse’s wrist before they’d injected him with a sedative. Xander wondered if he’d ever hear that story, but he did understand the blond’s need to have one piece to himself, not sharing everything. He’d be okay with Spike never telling him why he hated hospitals so much.



Spike stirred and Xander’s heart began to squeeze, his stomach hit the floor of the basement. He couldn’t do this! He couldn’t greet Spike and act as if they were just friends… Xander finally wanted more. He knew Spike’s knowledge of his past would help and keep him sane instead of having to lie all the time.  He hadn’t had that since he’d left the Watchers to their own ministrations. To be totally free and be able to share his entire past with someone… that’s what he wanted. He cursed his father again, as his eyes teared up, making him   sniffle a little.



“Hope you’re not crying over me mate, I plan on sticking around for a while yet,” Spike’s voice was hoarse as if something had been rammed down his throat. He pressed the control that lifted the top of his hospital bed so he could easily look at Xander in the eye, coughing discretely to the side.



Xander smiled brightly and shook his head, wiping his eyes, “I’ve just got some stuff going on right now, I’m okay. And you’re okay, the doctor said it was some kind of allergy?”



Spike nodded and shrugged, “Didn’t have Mr Muscle oven cleaner when I was last human, couldn’t have known. Now I gotta carry an epi pen with me everywhere in case I run into something else I’m allergic to. Refused their allergy tests, don’t fancy being pricked by a hundred or so needles. I’ll carry the pen and… it’ll be enough for me. I just want to be out of here, I can’t stand being in here Xan, please take me home, please Xan, take me home.”



The pitiful voice moved Xander. The ex-vampire looked so miserable in the hospital bed, curled up and trying not to freak out. Xander nodded to himself and headed off to find Spike’s nurses, who pointed him to his doctors, who pointed him to the front desk, and Xander had the paper work ready.



“Here, just fill these in, that you accept you’re going A. M. A. yadda yadda yadda, got your prescription, filled it, just need your John Hancock on the dotted line.” Xander drawled as he slid into the chair, dumping paper work and drugs on Spike’s table The ex vampire smiled.



“Knew you’d understand me Xan, knew you at least would understand needing to be out of a place,” he said softly as he filled in the paper work, signing his fake-real-fake name at the bottom. He pushed the table away. “Not gonna wait for nurse Ratchet to come around and let me outta my cell.” He ripped off some tape and bandaging to Xander’s shocked gasp and pulled out the IV, sighing, he felt immediately better.  He quickly put on his clothes, checked his “personals” bag and found everything there, even all of his rings. He was happy about that. Quickly he changed, feeling more himself as each piece of his shield against the world went on layer after layer, he felt good. He smiled at Xan and nodded his head, and they headed home.



<center>~*~</center>



“Okay, you stay in bed, and take it easy, need anything just shout,” Xander said as he tucked his friend in. “You need to take it easy. I’ll tell Steven and Ben you need some time to recuperate, okay? I’ll go right now, just relax, I’ll be back in like five minutes.” He said and smiled, squeezing Spike’s hand and going out the door. He skipped down the steps, his worried tension just washed away and he felt good. He even smiled when he knocked on the office door for Steven to let him in. When he opened the door he got a surprise. There was a Ben, but there was no Steven.



“Where’s big Steve?” Xander ask ed, smiling and walking in, closing the door behind him. He swallowed at Ben’s expression, something bad was in the air.



“I don’t know,” whispered Ben. “He didn’t come home last night…” He shuffled through paper, obviously keeping the business running.



“Whoa…. Where did he go?” *Xander sits on the couch.



“He went out for a pack of smokes,” Ben laughed tearfully. “I told him those things were going to kill him… oh god, I just want my Steven home, I can’t sleep in an empty bed forever.” Ben’s eyes teared up, crying softly, Xander stood up and held the man as he cried.



“We’ll figure it out, we really will. Steven’ll be fine, you’ll see. He probably had to help an emergency friend thing. He’ll turn up fine and dandy on your door step.” He hugged the man.



Ben sniffled, “Thanks Xan. But what brings you here? Maybe I could help?”



“Oh, it’s just, Spike ended up in the hospital, so he won’t be dancing for a week or so, his lungs need to heal up properly before exerting himself so hard. Sorry, I know you count on him for the money, but he just isn’t well enough to dance.”



Ben nodded, and looked over the schedule, “Emergencies happen, I got no problems with him needing the time off. Can you tell me what happened?”



“Oh…. It was an allergic reaction to some oven cleaner, Mr. Muscle. He didn’t know he was allergic, and he kinda fell like a stone. I know he told you about before, how he doesn’t remember, so he’s got to keep an epi pen with him in case another attack ever happens. He’s fine, his lungs just need to heal a bit.”



“Oh that’s fine, no worries, tell him to rest up and take care of himself.” He gave Xander a slow wink, “Enjoy your invalid, try to leave him with a smile,” he smirked.



“We should have another dance by then. So get ready for a rowdy crowd, you know how they get when Spike does something new.”



“You too hotstuff, you wouldn’t believe the notes we get about you. Actually, here.” He handed over a large box. “You can have them. Spike never wants his, but this might give you that burst of confidence.” He smiled and leaned back. “Enjoy!”



“Wow… I mean, thanks, you’re sure these are mine? And not just Spike’s? Are you sure?”



Ben nodded. “Oh yeah, those are yours.  Have fun, tell Spike to take care of himself.”  As clear a dismissal as anything Xander had ever heard, so he got up and waved.



“Bye Ben, we’ll find Steve, don’t worry.”



Ben waved and nodded, nose in the papers and books. Xander left his office and went back to their apartment using the secret passage, and frowned…. At the top of the stairs was another bouquet, but this one was different, it was almost arranged like an  altar, the heart dripping and red, clearly freshly removed.



Xander shrieked and ran inside, throwing up in the toilet, sobbing, shaking. Unable to pull himself together, he called the detective whose card he had and through his sobbing he told his story, about the new bouquet, the new heart. He went to Spike, unable to help himself, he curled up on the blonde’s bed, hand on his heart, as his blossoming love slowly washed over him.

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