Quantum Xander II: In Wake of the Curse

Part 6

Spike stood on the balcony and smoked. He’d gone through seven cigarettes already and still had no excuse for what he knew he was going to do. He looked around the shaded-off area of the balcony he was standing on and smiled. Xander had been adamant about him not smoking inside; but instead of simply expecting him to go without a smoke during the day, he had carefully screened off a section of the balcony for him to use. It was little things like this that had made him wonder what the man was up to in the first place.

The first morning he had awoken in Xander’s bed he was disoriented. He had a nagging feeling that something major had happened and he didn’t remember any of it. Slowly it came back to him; being in the basement, seeing Dru, Angelus, The Master, A.D.A.M., Glory, even Buffy. All of them taunting him with his failures. He began to lose himself, his grip on reality. Then Xander came.

He remembered being crazy, saying the most insane things about hall passes and disappearing doors. Xander had dismissed his worries and taken him out of there, going so far as to carry him when he collapsed in grief.

He remembered Xander sending him to shower, giving him clean, warm clothes and making him hot chocolate before sending him to bed - his bed. The fact that Xander had taken the couch for him said a lot. As he lay there that first morning, he wondered when it was that Xander had been replaced, and who this new Xander was. He wondered if the scoobies were aware of the change.

Things only got worse when Xander came home. He had not only brought Spike a mug of warm blood, but he’d given him clothes - new clothes - that he had paid for himself. Then he told him about the spare room. Spike had been stunned by the gesture, and wanted to know what he had done to the real Xander, and the boy laughed in his face and told him he was sorry.

That was the strangest thing ever. Xander had apologized to him, for things he had no reason to feel bad about. It wasn’t as though he had been any better to the kid before or after the chip. Spike had accepted the apology, made a few of his own, and they seemed to move on from there. But he still had no idea why Xander had changed, or what it meant. It made him uncomfortable; if he had changed, he could change back. Spike didn’t want to get comfortable only to be thrown out on his ass.

That was why he wanted to know what had happened to Xander. Finding out about the curse had answered some of his questions; he knew how situations like that could make you grow up fast. He had still had too many unanswered ones though, so he’d resorted to snooping. Now, knowing that Xander had been mated to his alternate - one of his alternates - he had to know the whole story.

Spike - the one who’d written the journal - had mentioned a couple of times that they had taken a third into their bed, or the hotel lobby, in Angel’s case, and Spike had damn near choked reading that. The very idea that Xander would fuck Angel, of all people, made him doubt his sanity once again. The thing about him and two Spikes was much easier to understand. If he was attracted to one, why wouldn’t he be attracted to another? Which brought up the question of ‘what exactly did Xander want from him?’.

Spike ground out his cigarette and went back inside. He walked straight back to Xander’s room and picked up his journal. He was damned already, so he might as well read it.

As the minutes passed, Spike read through Xander’s words and felt like he was there with him. Xander babbled on paper the same way he spoke. He could tell the young man was frightened but trying to deal with this new situation the same way he always did; accept it and move on - with humor, if possible.

The way he wrote about his one double and the crazy slayer - Faith - made him chuckle; he just couldn’t see the boy settled down as Joe Normal. He snorted at his opinion of Angelus after the demon reality; of course he had cursed after reading what the boy had been through there, and the nightmares that followed. He was kind of glad his other self had comforted the boy. He was still freaked out about the being-owned-by-Riley thing. He couldn’t hold in the laughter at the image of Xander and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce together. Angel’s watcher was a bigger prig than Rupert.

The time seemed to fly by as he lost himself in the story Xander had woven. He felt the highs and lows of the man’s journey, blushed at the imagery some of the pages produced and cried along with him as he read about his pain after losing his mate. The tears of pain turned to those of amusement at the idea of a female Xander carrying his child. He bet the boy wasn’t too happy about it, especially as it was Buffy that had cursed him.

He wondered how the boy had survived all that, no one to lean on, not knowing if he’d ever get home. It was no wonder he was being so kind to him. This man knew who he was - who he really was. There was a reason why he still acted so much the same even now that he had a soul; William had always been a part of him, and now Xander knew that.

He wasn’t sure how to deal with this information. He was being given an opportunity here to let someone see the real him, the man he had always been underneath all the fronting and bravado. Someone who already knew who he was and accepted it. He could finally just be. All he had to do was let Xander in.

He read the entry about him and Buffy. How Xander had finally figured it out. He felt a mix of joy and pain. Joy that Xander would accept the fact that he loved her, and that if Buffy ever gave him another chance he would be supportive of them; but he felt pain for Xander, for having even a slight chance of being happy when Xander’s mate was dust. He turned the next page and saw that it was the last entry of his journey. He sighed and debated on turning the page. He had his answers, and anything else in that book was about the here and now. He knew he had to put the book away but he watched as his traitorous hand turned the page. He read.

I haven’t written since I’ve been back. It just seems so weird; this was a part of a life I no longer lead. I’m home now, no unexpected shifts into alternate realities, no meeting other Xanders out there and finding out what their lives are like. No wondering what the next place will be like.

Life here is simple compared to that. I get up, I go to work - yes I still have my job. Thanks Anya! - I come home, shower, eat, go to Buffy’s, patrol, and then come home to bed. Well at least I did. That all changed yesterday. While at Buffy’s place getting ready to head out, Spike showed up. I almost swallowed my tongue.

I admit it hurt to see him, he was so beautiful in this tight blue shirt, hair freshly bleached. He looked like a wet dream. And he only had eyes for Buffy. I realized then that my life had just taken on new levels of pain. He’s not my Spike, but he’s still Spike, and it hurts knowing he loves her.

I was lying in bed trying to figure out what was different about him when it dawned on me - Spike has a soul. I went to the high school and brought him home with me. I was so angry at Buffy; I mean how could she just leave him there? But then I realized she was scared. Of him, of herself, of what she feels. I know Buffy, and she wouldn’t have spent all that time with Spike, sleeping with Spike if she didn’t feel something for him. It’s so much easier for me; yeah I’m a guy and no one knows I’m bisexual yet, but she’s a slayer, and she’s having emotional feelings toward a demon.

Yeah, it’s happened before - Angel - and look how well that worked out for her, and Spike didn’t even have a soul. I think that’s what made it worse, he tried to rape her; he proved to her just how soulless he was and even though she was angry, even though she was scared, she still felt for him. Now, well, now he goes out and does the one thing that he knows will hurt himself the most just to give her a reason to let herself love him, and she doesn’t know how to deal with it. For all Angel’s declarations of love, without his soul, he hated her. Spike loved her without a soul and got one just to prove it. From her perspective, it’s kinda scary.

So now I have Spike here, and set up in the storage room. I bought him a bed and a dresser, sheets, pillows all the basics. The fridge is stocked with blood; I got him some clothes and asked him to stay. You know what he said? He asked who I was and what I had done with the real Xander.

I miss my lover. At night I crawl into an empty bed; cool sheets caress me instead of cool flesh. I sleep with a pillow spooned to my chest instead of my mate. I see him in my dreams and he smiles at me, holds me close, tells me he’ll never leave me. But then I wake up alone and the pain starts.

I haven’t found anything to deal with it yet. Sometimes it gets so bad I think I might die. The other night on patrol I was almost killed by a fledgling. If it weren’t for the claim I think he would have gotten me. He hissed out ‘Spike’ just before Buffy came up and dusted him from behind. I’d forgotten all about the scent on me from Spike’s claim. I found a spell to mask it the next day, I’ve been using it ever since. Good thing too, or I would have had a lot of explaining to do when Spike showed up like that. It was bad enough when Nancy asked if there was anyone there who hadn’t slept with each other. I’m sure from the look he gave me he could smell my arousal.

I do find him attractive; I mean he’s Spike. Physically, he’s identical to my mate. But he’s not him. I can’t pretend he is, either. I don’t want to. I didn’t bring him home for that. I took him in out of friendship, out of compassion. I only want my Spike, no others. There has to be a spell out there somewhere, and if there is, I’ll find it.

Spike closed the book and put it away. He had some ideas of how he might be able to help Xander, but he didn’t know how to go about it without telling him he had read his journal. If that other Spike’s blood had helped with the pain, then he was more than willing to bleed for him. And of course, there was the little issue of Darla. If some hotshot law firm was able to bring her back, then there had to be a spell to raise the undead. He just needed to find a way to let Xander know without tipping his hand.