The Silent Urge Series
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
49
Views:
25,248
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
49
Views:
25,248
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
43 - D: Leaving
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43 Leaving
~ Spike ~
At the foot of the stairs I find the Klashe’ea demon dead on the floor. Fucking slayer.
I go inside the club, touch the hidden switches and the ceiling lights flicker to life. The club - as stylish and posh as it looks in the dark - is laid bare and ugly under the stark artificial light.
"Raspla?" I call out, checking for more dead bodies on my way to the bar. Fucking mess. I'm just glad the slayer got here after the busy hours. Well, maybe it would have been better if she had arrived here in the busy hours - they'd have ripped her apart and her sidekicks, too.
“Here.” Maerg answers and I have to go around the bar to find them. Maerg kneels in front of Raspla who’s bleeding from his mouth and a head wound. There’s a mess of broken glass and various fluids everywhere. Maerg presses napkins against Raspla’s forehead and lips, fussing.
“Happened?” I ask shortly, chock full of anger and guilt at having been responsible for this mess. I brought Xander here and I should have known something like this would happen. Fucking slayer. Always gets her way.
“I’m alright.” Raspla answers and tries to fend off Maerg’s three hands which is kinda hard if you have only two. “Leave it, dammit.” Raspla hisses at Maerg who looks helpless behind that unshakable mask. “Slayer got in – no idea where, how – she banged me around a bit, wanting to know where the boy was.”
“We didn’t tell her anything.” Maerg is quick to add. As if I wouldn’t know that. I found Maerg in the ruins of his former home after a slayer visited, killed all his family while he was away working. Decades ago, but it’s gotta shake him to see one of them again this close.
“Shouldn’t have come here.” I say more to myself, but they hear it.
“Not your fault, croprie? Spike, not your fault.” Maerg pauses, than asks warmly. “You think the human’s okay?”
Interesting. I look at Maerg and see something akin to real worry in his eyes.
“It was a rescue mission.” I say and look at him, huffing.
“Rescue? From who?” Raspla asks and both Maerg and I roll our eyes.
“Hurt your head bad, did you?” Maerg asks and smiles at Raspla before he gets some water to wet the napkins with, then starts to clean away the blood from his friend’s face. Three hands come in handy. I watch Maerg holding Raspla with one hand, the other hand busy with the napkin, the other holding the glass of water.
“I’ll go, find Treck.” I tell them and Maerg shrugs.
“Haven’t seen him.” He says with his furry eyebrows lowered thoughtfully.
I make my way back to the entry, there doesn’t seem to be more damage than the doors, here and upstairs, and the mess at the bar. I haven’t seen more bodies. I’m just glad that Raspla and Maerg are okay. Hard to find good staff these days. But where is Treckle? I go back to the offices, maybe he was back there when the slayer got here.
Doesn’t look like anybody got back here. No damage. Guess, she came straight up the stairs, Willow’s magic radar for Xander guiding them or something.
“Treck?” I call out, but receive no answer. I think I can hear a jittering heartbeat... I follow that.
I find him hurriedly packing things in a big suitcase. He looks green and it kinda bites with the purple tinged hair. He stinks of fear. “Treck?” I ask, careful not to frighten him further.
He doesn’t answer, just continues packing and it pisses me off. He’s a fucking baby of a demon, really.
“Treckle, what’s going on – what are you doing?”
Finally he stops, but doesn’t turn to me. At last he speaks: “Look – Spike – tonight, that was a close call and I’m not gonna risk my life for a – whatever. I’m done. I’ll go. It was nice and all but I’ve gotta leave.”
I really don’t know what to say to that. So we got into a bit of trouble – not the first time. The slayer has always been here, well not here here, but here in Sunnydale and it never seemed to be a problem. One sharp knock on the door and he’s running. Fucking coward.
“And who’ll lead the Twilight? Where are you going anyway?”
“I’ve got a friend in L. A. – has a club himself, Charity or something and it’s warded and everything. I figured being a bit off of the Hellmouth, out from under the slayer’s eyes is a big step in the right direction. You don’t- Look, I-“
“What?” I say angrily. My world breaks apart because everybody is selfish and egomanic.
Treckle comes over to me, touches my cheek and looks into my eyes. “I did this for you, Spike. I wanted us to have this.” He turns away when moisture gathers in his eyes. “You brought Xander here and I understand your reasons. He’s just like me, a stray to protect from danger. But he’s the Slayer’s.”
I growl at him. “He’s mine!”
“Well, the Slayer has a diffent opinion.” He says – bitchy, just like her.
“I’ll get him back!”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly the point. You get him back and we’re all in danger. What are you thinking - she’ll just stop trying to get him back? She’ll burn this club down. And obviously, since she does know about it now – she’ll never leave us alone. We’re a demon bar and she’s the Slayer. It’s her job to kill all of us – you included. I can’t stay. I don’t want to stay. There’s nothing or there will be nothing in a short while to stay for.”
“Fine.” I bite out. “You’ve got your knickers in a twist over her, I understand.” Fucking selfish bastard. “Maybe it’s better you go anyway.”
That makes him turn around, eyes wide and hurt. “What...”
“What… you’re expecting me to do some begging and pleading?”
“I...” He chokes up and it makes me even angrier. I don’t get why people always pull out the whole emotional paintbox and leech onto you to draw a fucking picture. I’m sick of tiptoeing around everybody, careful not to hurt their feelings. First the slayerettes, then Xander, Angel, now Treckle. Why don’t they get that I might need--- right, I don’t need them. I do fine without all that. All I care about is that Xander get’s back to me and we can have our little slice of life.
But Treck is right. The Slayer’s not going to leave us alone ever. Not as long as there’s a bit of (un-)life in Xander. She’ll hunt us down and put the boy to rest at peace as she thinks he deserves. Doesn’t get her head wrapped around the happiness-in-slavery-concept, the stupid bint. Well, not slavery, more like the real promise of until death does us part...
How can we make it work? How can I have Xander without people interfering every five minutes to save him. Bleeding hell. Why has it never once crossed my mind to just kill them all? Well, have them all killed? Get the chip out and kill them? Call some favours in, pay some money and have the whole of Sunnydale nuked into the past of existence. Fuck. Xander wouldn’t like seeing everything he fought for all his life going down, especially not when he’s the reason for the destruction. Fuck. I get a headache.
“Just get out, Treck.” I say, suddenly tired of this loop. “You’re right, there’s nothing left here for you.” He gasps in a shuddering breath – the last glimmer of hope dying – and shuts his eyes, tears escaping from under the lids. He nods and continues packing his stuff.
“I made some calls, the wards will be set up again today and the material damage will be repaired tonight.” Treckle tells me and I nod at him even though he doesn’t look up.
“Thank you, Treckle.” I say and don’t wait around to see him leave. I finish the round through the club. Apart from the two doors, the bar and the dead demons, everything seems in working order and I retreat back upstairs. I want to get pissed, so pissed I don’t have to think of anything – Xander – anymore, but I don’t wanna risk being out of it. Who know’s, Slayer might come around again, Angel might need a hand...
The pillow feels cool under my cheek and it smells faintly of Xander. Xander. I sigh and close my eyes. Maybe we can run away? I think he’d like to see the world. I could take him with me, we could go wherever we want, stay where we like and move on when we feel like it. He could call his friends once in a while, or write postcards. Assure them that he’s fine. Wonder what he’s doing right now. If Angel gets through to him? I could call Angel. Maybe later. Maybe later, he’ll already be back with Xander. And a little bit of sleep won’t hurt anybody.
Xander. I wish Xander was here. Xander.
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43 Leaving
~ Spike ~
At the foot of the stairs I find the Klashe’ea demon dead on the floor. Fucking slayer.
I go inside the club, touch the hidden switches and the ceiling lights flicker to life. The club - as stylish and posh as it looks in the dark - is laid bare and ugly under the stark artificial light.
"Raspla?" I call out, checking for more dead bodies on my way to the bar. Fucking mess. I'm just glad the slayer got here after the busy hours. Well, maybe it would have been better if she had arrived here in the busy hours - they'd have ripped her apart and her sidekicks, too.
“Here.” Maerg answers and I have to go around the bar to find them. Maerg kneels in front of Raspla who’s bleeding from his mouth and a head wound. There’s a mess of broken glass and various fluids everywhere. Maerg presses napkins against Raspla’s forehead and lips, fussing.
“Happened?” I ask shortly, chock full of anger and guilt at having been responsible for this mess. I brought Xander here and I should have known something like this would happen. Fucking slayer. Always gets her way.
“I’m alright.” Raspla answers and tries to fend off Maerg’s three hands which is kinda hard if you have only two. “Leave it, dammit.” Raspla hisses at Maerg who looks helpless behind that unshakable mask. “Slayer got in – no idea where, how – she banged me around a bit, wanting to know where the boy was.”
“We didn’t tell her anything.” Maerg is quick to add. As if I wouldn’t know that. I found Maerg in the ruins of his former home after a slayer visited, killed all his family while he was away working. Decades ago, but it’s gotta shake him to see one of them again this close.
“Shouldn’t have come here.” I say more to myself, but they hear it.
“Not your fault, croprie? Spike, not your fault.” Maerg pauses, than asks warmly. “You think the human’s okay?”
Interesting. I look at Maerg and see something akin to real worry in his eyes.
“It was a rescue mission.” I say and look at him, huffing.
“Rescue? From who?” Raspla asks and both Maerg and I roll our eyes.
“Hurt your head bad, did you?” Maerg asks and smiles at Raspla before he gets some water to wet the napkins with, then starts to clean away the blood from his friend’s face. Three hands come in handy. I watch Maerg holding Raspla with one hand, the other hand busy with the napkin, the other holding the glass of water.
“I’ll go, find Treck.” I tell them and Maerg shrugs.
“Haven’t seen him.” He says with his furry eyebrows lowered thoughtfully.
I make my way back to the entry, there doesn’t seem to be more damage than the doors, here and upstairs, and the mess at the bar. I haven’t seen more bodies. I’m just glad that Raspla and Maerg are okay. Hard to find good staff these days. But where is Treckle? I go back to the offices, maybe he was back there when the slayer got here.
Doesn’t look like anybody got back here. No damage. Guess, she came straight up the stairs, Willow’s magic radar for Xander guiding them or something.
“Treck?” I call out, but receive no answer. I think I can hear a jittering heartbeat... I follow that.
I find him hurriedly packing things in a big suitcase. He looks green and it kinda bites with the purple tinged hair. He stinks of fear. “Treck?” I ask, careful not to frighten him further.
He doesn’t answer, just continues packing and it pisses me off. He’s a fucking baby of a demon, really.
“Treckle, what’s going on – what are you doing?”
Finally he stops, but doesn’t turn to me. At last he speaks: “Look – Spike – tonight, that was a close call and I’m not gonna risk my life for a – whatever. I’m done. I’ll go. It was nice and all but I’ve gotta leave.”
I really don’t know what to say to that. So we got into a bit of trouble – not the first time. The slayer has always been here, well not here here, but here in Sunnydale and it never seemed to be a problem. One sharp knock on the door and he’s running. Fucking coward.
“And who’ll lead the Twilight? Where are you going anyway?”
“I’ve got a friend in L. A. – has a club himself, Charity or something and it’s warded and everything. I figured being a bit off of the Hellmouth, out from under the slayer’s eyes is a big step in the right direction. You don’t- Look, I-“
“What?” I say angrily. My world breaks apart because everybody is selfish and egomanic.
Treckle comes over to me, touches my cheek and looks into my eyes. “I did this for you, Spike. I wanted us to have this.” He turns away when moisture gathers in his eyes. “You brought Xander here and I understand your reasons. He’s just like me, a stray to protect from danger. But he’s the Slayer’s.”
I growl at him. “He’s mine!”
“Well, the Slayer has a diffent opinion.” He says – bitchy, just like her.
“I’ll get him back!”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly the point. You get him back and we’re all in danger. What are you thinking - she’ll just stop trying to get him back? She’ll burn this club down. And obviously, since she does know about it now – she’ll never leave us alone. We’re a demon bar and she’s the Slayer. It’s her job to kill all of us – you included. I can’t stay. I don’t want to stay. There’s nothing or there will be nothing in a short while to stay for.”
“Fine.” I bite out. “You’ve got your knickers in a twist over her, I understand.” Fucking selfish bastard. “Maybe it’s better you go anyway.”
That makes him turn around, eyes wide and hurt. “What...”
“What… you’re expecting me to do some begging and pleading?”
“I...” He chokes up and it makes me even angrier. I don’t get why people always pull out the whole emotional paintbox and leech onto you to draw a fucking picture. I’m sick of tiptoeing around everybody, careful not to hurt their feelings. First the slayerettes, then Xander, Angel, now Treckle. Why don’t they get that I might need--- right, I don’t need them. I do fine without all that. All I care about is that Xander get’s back to me and we can have our little slice of life.
But Treck is right. The Slayer’s not going to leave us alone ever. Not as long as there’s a bit of (un-)life in Xander. She’ll hunt us down and put the boy to rest at peace as she thinks he deserves. Doesn’t get her head wrapped around the happiness-in-slavery-concept, the stupid bint. Well, not slavery, more like the real promise of until death does us part...
How can we make it work? How can I have Xander without people interfering every five minutes to save him. Bleeding hell. Why has it never once crossed my mind to just kill them all? Well, have them all killed? Get the chip out and kill them? Call some favours in, pay some money and have the whole of Sunnydale nuked into the past of existence. Fuck. Xander wouldn’t like seeing everything he fought for all his life going down, especially not when he’s the reason for the destruction. Fuck. I get a headache.
“Just get out, Treck.” I say, suddenly tired of this loop. “You’re right, there’s nothing left here for you.” He gasps in a shuddering breath – the last glimmer of hope dying – and shuts his eyes, tears escaping from under the lids. He nods and continues packing his stuff.
“I made some calls, the wards will be set up again today and the material damage will be repaired tonight.” Treckle tells me and I nod at him even though he doesn’t look up.
“Thank you, Treckle.” I say and don’t wait around to see him leave. I finish the round through the club. Apart from the two doors, the bar and the dead demons, everything seems in working order and I retreat back upstairs. I want to get pissed, so pissed I don’t have to think of anything – Xander – anymore, but I don’t wanna risk being out of it. Who know’s, Slayer might come around again, Angel might need a hand...
The pillow feels cool under my cheek and it smells faintly of Xander. Xander. I sigh and close my eyes. Maybe we can run away? I think he’d like to see the world. I could take him with me, we could go wherever we want, stay where we like and move on when we feel like it. He could call his friends once in a while, or write postcards. Assure them that he’s fine. Wonder what he’s doing right now. If Angel gets through to him? I could call Angel. Maybe later. Maybe later, he’ll already be back with Xander. And a little bit of sleep won’t hurt anybody.
Xander. I wish Xander was here. Xander.
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