Not Forgotten

Chapter 6


Spike stared down at the still form of his Childe. He’d undone the straps as soon as the ritual was over and Xander had immediately curled up into a foetal position. Tiny whimpers had trailed off and Xander had shaken violently for only a short time before he abruptly became very still and very quiet.

“You awake, little pet?”

Spike waited in the relative darkness of the room for an answer. Time stretched on and on and Spike started to wonder if Xander had completely passed out. He reached forward to touch, to rouse and reassure his beloved Childe.

“Don’t call me that.”

Spike quickly withdrew his hand. “So you are awake.”

“So it seems.” Xander uncoiled himself and sat up. “Why?”

“Why what, litt…Why what?”

“Why did you turn me?”

“You don’t remember?”

Xander shook his head and tears filled his eyes. “You must really hate me. What was I? A nice, convenient way to get back at Buffy?”

“No! It wasn’t like that. Don’t you remember anything?”

Xander shook his head again.

“But you know what you are now?”

“I can feel it. I can feel *you.* Please, just tell me what happened.”

“Found you half dead, little pet.” Xander glared at the name, but Spike carried on regardless. “Some fledge had gotten in the house, fuck knows how, and I found it trying to feed you. It was trying to turn you.”

“And?”

“Dusted it.”

“What was the point of dusting it if you were just going to turn me yourself?”

“I didn’t want to turn you. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could have just let me die.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…just because, alright? Be satisfied with that. I didn’t want to see you dead.”

“I am dead.”

“Christ, Xander!” Spike rubbed his hands over his face and forced himself to calm down. Mastiva had told him that Xander’s memory of recent events would be sparse, at best. It would return, usually within a day or two, but until then Spike guessed that he’d have a fight on his hands. “Look. Let’s just get out of here. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but not here, yeah?”

“Can I go home?”

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea…”

“I *want* to go home.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll take you home.”

Xander slid himself to the side of the alter and placed unsteady feet on the ground.

“Let me help…”

“I don’t need help. I picked up the ability to walk some time ago, thank you very much.” Xander put his full weight onto his legs and he had to grip the side of the alter as he felt them give way beneath him.

“Pet…”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your pet!”

“Xander. I know you can’t remember anything, but you have to trust me. Just let me help you. That’s all I want. Come on. Let me do this?”

Xander felt weak, like he’d been hit by a truck then run over backwards by a grey-haired sugar daddy in a shiny red Porsche. He looked one more time into Spike’s face, a last attempt at trying to gauge his mood and work out his ulterior motive for wanting to help Xander ‘doughnut-boy’ Harris.

Spike’s expression was devoid of any mocking or malice. The usual smirk was not in place.

Reluctantly, Xander nodded, his skin tingling at the touch of Spike’s supporting arm slipping around his waist. The tingle grew stronger as he leant into Spike’s hold and let him take his weight.

The bond. It was thrumming. A thrumming that screamed that Spike was his. Screamed that he belonged to Spike. Screamed that Spike would lay his un-life down to help him.

The bond pulsed through his body, banging and rattling like an express train on a bumpy track. A flash of memory flooded his mind. A vampire, holding him, draining him, killing him, Siring him. Then…Spike. It was all Spike.

Xander felt his legs give way. The room swayed and spun, more scattered memories flashing at him like white lightning. “Sire.”

“I’ve got you, little pet. I’ve got you.”

Xander slumped in Spike’s arms. His last drop of energy siphoned away. “Please…help me.”

“Ssh.” Spike held Xander against his chest. “I’m here, remember? Always here. Promise.”

Xander wondered for a weird moment if the Initiative had captured him and inserted a stupidity chip. Because no matter what his human side was telling him, that Spike was trouble, that Spike was up to something, that Spike was going to pick them all off one by one until everyone was dead or turned, his demon side was shouting louder. And the things his demon was shouting? They were thunderous things and much more believable. This is your Sire now. Your Sire loves you. Your Sire will protect you. Your Sire will always be there for you. Always.

Xander closed his eyes. And believed.

**


The vampire held him by his throat, crushing him, suffocating him. Xander couldn’t breathe. He panicked and tried to scream. Nothing came out.

Too strong.

Help Me.

Please, no.

Not you.

He fought against the vampire’s hold. He punched, kicked and clawed. The vampire held him closer, ignoring his furious struggles.

Xander landed a lucky kick into the vampire’s stomach. He desperately scrabbled across the basement floor, his breath flowing harshly now, panting, wheezing, and hyperventilating.

Not you

The creature approached again, stalking him, cornering him. It licked its ruby red lips and crouched down to Xander’s eye-level. Crawling on all fours, the vampire closed the last few feet between them.

“Join me, Alexander. Join your mother.”

**

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“Xan! Wake up! Wake up, luv!”

Xander woke abruptly and he shoved Spike away from him. “NO! No, no, no…”

“Xander, it’s me. It’s Spike. Ain’t gonna hurt you, luv. Never hurt you. Calm down now.”

Xander pushed himself against the wall and tried to clear his mind, to separate the dream from reality.

“Xan?”

Tears slipped from Xander’s eyes at the realisation that there was no dream to separate. It was real. It was all real. “Did…did you know?” he asked Spike.

“Know what?”

“The…v-vampire. The vampire that… Did you know who it was?”

“No.”

“Didn’t you wonder how it got in?”

Spike opened his mouth to speak but Xander cut in. “Or did you think I was stupid enough to let it in?”

“I didn’t think that. You ain’t as stupid as you look, little pet. You would never have let it in.”

Xander nodded in agreement. “I didn’t have to.”

“What…?”

“She was already here. She was waiting. My…my mother was waiting to kill me.”

Spike wavered between crushing his Childe to his chest and kissing his torment away and needing to get to a bottle of whisky, fast.

“Dad has whisky in the cabinet upstairs. Hurry up. I need a drink too.”

Spike nodded once and bolted up the stairs.

His mother? That was his mother? Jesus, fuck me, Christ. How do you even start dealing with a thing like that?

You’re a vampire. Your mother, a newly turned fledge, tried to turn you. Your mother was killed by your Sire. Enough for you, Xan? Oh, and I don’t suppose you’ve remembered yet that you killed your father? No? Let me remind you.

Now, there was a point. Spike was tempted to tell Xander about his father now. Might as well get all the pain out of the way while we’re dishing out bad news. But what was this going to do to Xander? Was he going to be able to cope with the fact that he killed his own father?

One thing at a time.

Spike took two bottles of whisky from the cabinet and quickly returned to the basement. Xander was exactly where he’d left him. Sitting on the bed, staring at the spot where his mother had turned to ashes.

“I’m sorry, Xan.”

“I remember.”

Spike passed over one of the bottles and watched while Xander gulped down a sizable amount. “What do you remember?”

“You. Her. She was trying to turn me. I could hear her. She was pleading with me to drink from her. But I couldn’t, not more than a drop. It just tasted so bad. Like milk that’s been sitting out in the sun for days. I couldn’t do it. Then…you were there. She was dust and you were there. You tasted good. You tasted like… life.”

Xander swigged another large mouthful from the bottle. “I remember waking up with you. I remember you holding me. It felt nice. I was so scared. I couldn’t remember what happened. I couldn’t understand why I was so cold. Then…I remembered…something. Her. I thought… I didn’t realise who she was. I thought she was my Sire. But…so were you.”

“I’m sorry, Xan. I didn’t know.”

“You killed her.”

Spike hung his head, too ashamed to even look at his Childe. He’d done what he had to, what was called for. He couldn’t have let a fledge turn Xander. It would have killed him, somehow. Spike thought about what he would have done if he’d known who the fledgling was.

“I know.”

“Are you sorry?”

“No.”

Xander looked up, startled by the bluntness of Spike’s response. “What?”

“I did what I had to. She tried to turn you. She would have failed. She was trying to sentence you, whether she knew it or not, to something worse than death, worse than being what you are now. I couldn’t allow it, no matter who she was. My priority was you, Xander.”

“Why?” Xander asked softly.

Spike shrugged. “Don’t know. Care about you, I guess.”

Xander nodded slowly. “Spike? Could you leave me alone? Just for a while.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you need. I’ll go out.”

“No! I mean, you don’t have to go out. You could just go upstairs. I think my dad’s out. I just…”

“I know, Xan. You need some time. I get it. I’ll be upstairs, then. You call me if you need me, though, yeah?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Spike closed the door to the basement behind him. He barely made it two steps before the air was filled with howls from his grieving Childe.

TBC…