Full Circle

One hour and 11 minutes later…


His feet scuffling in the cemetery's grey dirt, Xander hefted the heavy tarp higher into his arms to prevent it from continually dragging along the ground. He hoped to God that whatever it was that anointed Spike wouldn't get on his uncle's car interior. If anything got on Uncle Rory's car, Xander knew that his uncle would complain to his dad and then his dad would 'complain' to him whether or not it was actually his fault. Xander could already see his mother shaking her head at him while screeching that it was always *his* fault. Bitterly thinking that no matter what he did at home, it was always his fault in the end, Xander once again gathered up the edge of the light blue tarp as it dropped down onto the hard earth.

With his one free hand, he awkwardly pushed his backpack strap back up to his shoulder. In the bag was a large plastic bottle of water, a roll of gaffer tape, a bag of blood and a few old pillowcases that he hoped his mother wouldn't miss. Reaching the doorway of Spike's current crypt, Xander was almost overwhelmed by the powerful odour that emanated from inside the dank room.

Breathing deeply, he gathered his wits enough to encourage himself to ignore the vile air he was about to enter and walked carefully down the cracked, uneven steps, even as the tarp corner threatened to end his life by tripping him up as it dangled across his sneakers. The tarp and backpack he placed on top of the slab covering the stone coffin in the centre of the small room, and Xander took care to avoid placing them near the gelling blood and other unidentifiable substances that liberally coated one end of the cool stone.

Xander sighed as he thought of the task ahead of him. He *so* didn't want to do this and in all reality, he had many more things that he should have been doing instead. He didn't like having to clean anyone up, not even his mother or father, let alone a complete arsehole like Spike. However, if the vampire was going back to Xander's place then he was going to have some of the muck washed off him before he was wrapped in the tarp.

Turning around so that he was looking down at the twitching figure on the crypt floor, Xander wondered whether or not he should have brought more cloths and water with him. He wasn't sure that what he had brought with him would be enough to wash off even half of the filth covering the shaking body.

Spike lay on the cold floor, more or less on his relatively unmarked front. Shaking and twitching as much as his abused body would allow, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly behind tightly shut lids. Little breathy gasps were uttered every few moments amongst, what sounded to Xander, like deeper groans of pain.

With a grimace and a deep sigh, Xander leant down to roll Spike from the drying horror that he was currently lying in. After trying to find a patch of skin that wasn't too battered, he placed his hands on the pale form as he decided that, wherever he touched Spike, it would hurt anyway. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Xander firmly rolled Spike from the sticky floor and onto an area just beyond that was dusty, but ultimately cleaner than what Spike had been lying in before.

Squealing in a strangled, whispered cry, Spike woke from his nightmare with a start, sobbing as his tortured hip took all his solid weight. His eyes opened a mere fraction, he saw that Harris had moved him from the puddle of piss and cum that he had been left in after the final round of 'Twister' the night before. Only this game of 'Twister' had involved his limbs and the five members of Arseholes Inc.

His grimace deepening in both annoyance and disgust as he ran his gaze over the once white body, Xander left Spike sobbing as he was for the moment, walking back to the bag waiting for him. Xander suspected what the flaky white substance was on the deeply bruised and welt covered buttocks, but it was a thought that he refused to entertain. Unzipping the backpack, he reached inside for the pillowcases and bottle of water. As he looked at the threadbare material in his hands, Xander acknowledged that he hadn't brought enough of either with him. His annoyance growing by the minute, he walked back to the gasping vampire to get a closer look.

"Well. Someone or something did a good job on you."

~No shit, Einstein!~

Thought Spike as hot waves of pain radiated from the hip in contact with the uneven floor. He could feel tiny pieces of chipped mortar pressing themselves into the bruises that were still flowering into full bloom.

~Fuck! A few more hours and I'll be able to beat that sodd'n git Barney in the purple awards!~

"Ummm...ahhh, I'm gonna wipe some of that *whatever* off you. It's...umm...sorta going to hurt."

~Oh, just great...so bloody great. This is soooo what I need at the moment, more pain~

Was Spike's thought during his efforts to quieten his choking sobs and fight his desire to cringe away from Xander's presence. Something that he couldn't quite understand, as he had never thought the whelp was any way intimidating. Ever.

~Wonder what I'll get for not crying this time? Knowing my luck, a great big Peachy smelling soul~

Kneeling down on the rough stone surface of the crypt floor and immediately regretting wearing his new cargo's, Xander took one of the pink and green striped pillowcases in both hands and, with fast, vicious motions, tore along the frayed edges. One of the resulting three strips taken up, he took the cap off the bottle of water and pressed the cloth to the open end. The bottle tipped up, and Xander made sure the old material was thoroughly wet.

Spike gritted his teeth, choking off the sobs as he tried not to cry out in reaction to the agony he felt when Xander started to dab at one of the welts on the small of his back. Still trembling from the shock that had set in when he realised what had been going to happen last night, the former Big Bad tried to turn his thoughts to other things that what his mind was determined to throw at him.

He was *not* going to think of all the names he had been called and the humiliating laughter they had caused when any of the five bastards had come up with a wittier one than the previous. And he was definitely not thinking of the great whoops of delight and the congratulatory backslapping that had gone on when Martinez-something-or-other had breeched the tight ring of muscle in his arse, causing Spike to bark out in pain. Neither was he re-living the feeling of the remaining four arseholes that had gone rutting into him after the first cock had emptied itself deep within him. All the while Spike had been forced onto his hands and knees. Just to make it easier for them.

He had known, as soon as he had let out the shocked yelp, that he had sealed his own fate of being the favoured form of entertainment that night. Spike had been so sure that Bunny's fuck toy would put a stop to it way before it had even reached that point, but nothing had prepared him for the look of both venom and dangerous arousal on Iowa's face when he'd had both of his arms stretched out over the tomb slab. Ready for a second round. He had been pushed into that position by a dark haired soldier, one who had wanted to 'have a go' while standing. Both Graham and Riley had held his arms while Martinez and some other one that Spike had never caught the name of, held both of his legs for Corey.

As he had been shorter than the other men, they'd had to lift him slightly, their large blunt fingers digging into his already heavily bruised flesh. With a groan, Spike could feel his stomach muscles protest as he thought of the bruises he had gotten across his middle from being in contact with the edge of the heavy slab as they had alternately pounded into him from behind. All his struggles, the game faced snapping and snag, hg, his growled threats of revenge and finally, his promise to tell Buffy, had only earned him a head bashing on one solid corner of the old tomb. Something that was most likely the cause of the intense pain on the chipped side of his head.

The ever-present nausea grew stronger as Xander dabbed none too gently at the numerous welts that decorated his upper buttocks. Spike closed his eyes in a flood of shame when he felt the boy's hands hesitate as they came to rest just above the crevice.

"Ummmm. Do...do you...ahhh...want me to...you know...go there?"

With a slight nod of his head, Spike choked back a hiss of agony as callused hands parted him and lukewarm water stung the much abused flesh and muscle.

"Ok...but just for the record, I'm not doing this again. Next time it's gonna be Giles, whether you like it or not."

Shaking his head, the vampire felt tears well up at the very thought of anything like this happening to him again.

"Why not the G-man?"

~Because this is bloody well humiliating enough with you seeing me like this, let alone that wanker of a Watcher~

All Spike could do was shake his head as strongly as his protesting neck muscles would allow.