Full Circle

Later the same day...


Not having moved from the neck jarring position that he had managed to roll himself into hours previously, Spike could feel the damp cold from the stone crypt floor creeping into his limbs, rendering them numb after hours of aching stillness. He had been afraid to move for fear of doing more damage to his lower thigh muscles, that had been torn when both The Slayer's Pet and his arsehole buddy Graham had wrenched his knees apart so that they and the others could screw him like a woman as he had been forced to lay on his back.

Spike had hated it when Angelus had insisted on taking him like a woman and now, he hated it even more. Just thinking of the humiliating little practice was threatening to start the flood tide of tears again. With a hard snort, Spike was determined not to cry again as he took a break from mentally reciting all the punk rock songs he knew. Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, he stared at the weak shard of light coursing through the crypt's half closed door. Something that was hard for him to do as he tried to see beyond the fireworks that were still exploding across his field of vision. As he took in the strength of the deadly beam, Spike took it to be around noon, if not just after.

His throat, though still tender and scratchy, was starting to feel better. "No thanks to that overgrown human cracker, Graham! I mean, who the fuck names their brat after a friggin biscuit?"

All that came from Spike was a wheezing cough.

Once again, Spike knew that he could speak not only perfect English but a few other languages as well. Giving a deep sigh that was broken only by a harsh grunting cough, he tried his hand at another language, as obviously English wasn't going to be happening for him that day. His head rolled so that his bruised right cheek was no longer pressed into the paste of blood, dirt and urine that covered the ground under his head, he tried the same sentences in Varrsht, Breraxthor, XXanrgon and his personal favorite, Stuol.

Zilch...nada and yet again, nothing bar a minutes worth of grunting, coughing and gasping.

Feeling the ever-present nausea rise, Spike dry retched from both hunger and the pain in his head.

~Way to soothe a sore throat, Dickhead!~

As he admonished himself for being such a girl, and a right sniveling one at that, Spike found himself thinking that Dru would probably have gotten right off on the previous nights activities. Hell, probably wasn't even the right word for it. Spike knew without a doubt that Dru would have taken a second round if offered and then come back and asked for a third. Twisting his bruised and swollen lips into more of a grimace than a smile, he thought back fondly on his Dark Princess. That girl had always loved cock and the nastier the fuck, the better.

~Me... I've had more than enough sodd'n cock for the time being. Thank you very much, you bunch of cunts!~

With a weary sigh, he tuned out the bittersweet memories of his long departed love and instead, turned his attention to the very uninteresting, cracked and dented ceiling above him. Concentrating on the scenery above him as much as the ongoing light show in front of his eyes would let him, Spike found himself turning an ear to the faint yet rapid heartbeats of the birds just outside the crypt door. Detecting a much larger, stronger heartbeat coming his way, Spike wondered if it was one of the grunts from the night before. One of them coming back to finish him off, something that he was actually looking forward to.

The footsteps stopped just outside the crypt door, causing Spike to awkwardly twist his stiff neck so that he had a better view of the shadow blocking the sunlight that he had been lucky to avoid so far.

~Just pure, dumb luck that I was pushed off that f'n slab as hard as I was to land over here. Fantastically... wonderfully lucky!~

As an overly loud and way too dramatic volley of coughing and snorting noises came from the open doorway, Spike wondered when whoever it was would either just get their arse in or sod right off. A choice that was quickly made as the shadow descended the stairs, revealing itself to be male.

~Well then, please just come right in~ Spike thought as sarcastically as his worsening migraine allowed.

~Fuck me! Of all people, its the bloody Whelp!~

Spike watched as Xander stepped down onto the floor of the crypt. All the while the younger human attempted to stop the foul odour of the damp space getting to his nose by covering his lower face with both his T-shirt and over shirt, quite obviously offended by the stench that permeated the surrounding air.

~Try lying in what caused it all night, Mate~

Xander didn't see Spike lying on the floor right away due to his inability to see more than a few steps in front of him. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, Spike's name on the tip of his tongue, Xander sharply whirled around to peer behind him when he heard the sound of someone or something trying to be sick and not succeeding.

"Who's there?" the tense young man demanded, hoping he sounded more confident than he actually felt.

~Me, you fucking imbecile~

Spike sneered to himself as he tried to make more than the soft grunting noises and dry retching sounds that he was so far only capable of. Trying not to jar his fingers too much on the uneven floor, he scrabbled them towards a broken piece of mortar. He picked it up awkwardly and felt a lighting bolt of pain surge through his hand as one sharp edge caught on the bone sticking from his broken fin His His jaw clenched as tightly as he could manage, Spike ignored his shrieking muscles as they protested at being woken from their cold slumber in order to raise his arm to throw the jagged shard in the boy's general direction.

PLOP...

Xander whirled around again, his head arching from side to side as he looked to find where the new noise had come from. Looking down, he saw a piece of crumbled stone lying in a puddle of what he could only presume was the cause of the dank odour in the chilly room. He shuddered at the thought of what was mixed with the blood on the floor. With a shake of his head, Xander knew that he had been hanging with Buffy for way too long for him automatically to know that it was blood. Letting his line of vision trail along the gloopy looking puddle to just beyond into the darker shadows, he caught a glimpse of something pale. Acting on instinct, Xander started to turn and run when another softer retching sound came from the shadowy corner.

"Spike?" came the hesitant question.

~To quote the pom-pom bint... well duh!~

Opening and closing his mouth in an effort to form words that he knew, Spike only succeeded in issuing forth a whispered grunt as Xander took a slow step towards him.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Closing the distance between them, Xander took in the obviously battered form of the stricken vampire, all the while continuing to hold his clothes between his nose and the foul air. Even though he was standing only a pace away from Spike, Xander still couldn't make out much due to the darkness in the crypt; but one thing he did know was that, from the way Spike was lying and the sounds coming from him, the Bleached Wonder was hurt pretty badly. The last step towards Spike taken, Xander could see from the twisted angles of the pale body that quite a few bones were broken, and it looked as though there probably wasn't an unbruised patch of skin anywhere on Spike. Whether that was from the shadows and being unable to see properly in the inadequate light, he wasn't sure. Maybe Spike would look less damaged in better light, Xander mused to himself. With the clothes muffling his words, he got down to the more important task of asking How, Who, Why and so on.

Rolling his eyes at the idiot standing in front of him, an action that caused his stomach to protest even more, Spike mouthed the words that he thought he would never in his whole undead life ask of this particular slayerette.

"HELP ME"

"Wha...yeah... huh? Oh... yeah... yeah, of course," nodded Xander as he contemplated the figure he looked down on. "Hang on...how?"

Xander knew that he was staring at the prone figure on the floor; he knew it was rude but he was fascinated by what was in the vampire's hair. The stuff that completely obliterated all the blond. What it was he didn't know and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know either. Taking a deep breath, he began to leave.

"I'll go get the G-Man."

At Spike's barely shaken head, Xander walked back to look yet again at the battered form lying on the floor. "What... no Giles?"

Slight nod.

"Well... who then?"

A painful looking broken finger punched the air, pointing towards him in a gesture that Xander knew without a doubt had to be causing the vampire considerable pain.

"Are you nuts?" Xander screamed at the rather nauseous looking vampire. "You want to just lie there in that puddle of only God knows what until you heal, is that it?"

Looking at Xander pacing up and down beside him, Spike closed his eyes as his stomach gurgled in reaction to the demanded question. Frustrated beyond all belief as a result of not being able to give voice to his plea, Spike made another pointed jab in what he hoped was Xander's general direction. Grunting as he was pointing, Spike hoped that Xander was going to be a little quicker on the uptake this time than he usually was.

~Jesus, I knew the lad was stupid at times but this is taking the bloody cake!~

Xander caught the vicious gesture that was aimed towards him, slightly dazed that for once it wasn't the usual two fingered salute. Suddenly, it dawned on him what the guttural grunts were trying to tell him.

"What, back to my place?"

This time, Xander saw a barely perceptible nod from the hurt blond. With arms crossed firmly across his chest, he glanced back down with disdain as his T-shirt slipped from covering his nose, ensuring that he copped the full force of the rancid aroma. Nose wrinkling, Xander groaned as he realised that with Spike back at his place, he wasn't going to be able to make up Anya's missed orgasms.

"You do know that Anya is gonna be totally pissed, don't you?"

Another slight nod.

His nose wrinkling even more as the smell started to really get to him, Xander spun on his heel and headed towards the steps. With a backwards glance at Spike, Xander told him that he would be back in about an hour or so once he had found a tarp large enough to wrap Spike in.

"I'll be back with Uncle Rory's car. Lucky for you my parents have taken him to court again for his latest D.U.I." said Xander as he stepped into the clean fresh air of the cemetery.

Spike watched him go, a strangled grunt catching in his sore throat. Not bothering to wipe at the tear forming in the corner of his eye, he let his mind relax now that he knew he would get some sort of help.

Darkness was hurtling towards him and Spike leant into its embrace as it enveloped his tortured mind.