Full Circle

later that night...


In a desperate panic, Spike ran from one corner of his crypt to the other, vainly trying to get away from the five taller men that were in the small, dank, torch-lit room with him. As he dodged the numerous hands grasping at him, the vampire shouted at them to leave him alone, for Riley and his friends to gather up their shit and to just go. However, even as Spike knew he had pronounced the words correctly, he became ever moncrencreasingly distressed as he heard himself tell the five laughing men that they could do whatever they liked to him.

"Go on, Mate, do what you like. Trust me, I don't give a shit." Shaking his head in denial at what he had just heard himself say, Spike feinted a dash to the furthest corner of the crypt, turning at the last moment towards the crumbling stairs.

Before he had managed to take more than two steps in the new direction, Spike was surrounded by the five men, all kicking and punching at him until he fell onto the rough and chilly stone floor. His whole body repeatedly kicked until he was lying on his back, Spike looked up at his attackers, shuddering as he took in the identical looks of anger intermingled with lust. Even Buffy's fucktoy, the farmboy, had an aura of dangerous arousal about him. Opening his mouth in order to make one of his trademark vicious quips, Spike was horrified the instant he started to speak. "I'm just a slag, an' you know what? Runs in the family, me Mam was one too. Go on, fuck me over, I'm just *begging* for it!"

Eyes widened in shock at the pure lust dripping from his words. Spike batted uselessly at the five pairs of hands grabbing at him once again. As he was jerked off the ground and hauled towards the stone slab in the middle of the crypt, Spike struggled to get free from the five men who were agreeing with him; telling Spike that they had known he was nothing but a pussy, whore, slag and a fucktoy from the moment they had set eyes on him.

"Damn, you boys are getting me just waaaay too hot, keep goin' and I'm gonna explode in these pants o' mine." Whimpering helplessly as he recognised his own vocal betrayal, Spike hissed in pain as he managed to wrench one of the ex-soldier's hands from his shirt, his chip firing off even as he tried to defend himself from further harm. Thrown face down on the chipped, stone slab, Spike's already aching stomach muscles protested as the hard edge slammed into him, even as he felt rough hands reaching around the front of him to his belt.

Spike snarled menacingly at his assailants, only to yelp in pain as he felt his shoulder muscles and ligaments straining as both of his arms were wrenched out of their sockets by Riley and Graham. Both men laughing at his agonised panting as they hauled his upper body over the wide expanse of the slab topping off the stone coffin. Frightened by what was happening, the vampire tried to kick at the hands that were working his tight black jeans down his trembling legs. A whine escaped his lips as he felt all movement stop as the jeans reached his ankles. Spike's stomach clenched in fear as he turned his head to one side, temporarily blind as the light from one of his attacker's torches glinted off the large bladed knife that Graham had in his hand. Blinking, as the light was suddenly gone, he froze for a moment before resuming his kicking as he both felt and heard the knife cutting away his much loved Doc Martens. As he managed to free his right foot from the soldier holding onto his lower leg, Spike lashed out as hard as he could, howling when he felt his chip fire off, the intense pain sending him into a momentary blackout.

His head ringing from the electric shock that had coursed through his brain, Spike couldn't help but shudder as he felt his shirt being ripped from his upper body, his t-shirt following only a minute later. Whimpering at them to stop, Spike felt tears well up as he heard himself tell the men that the rougher they treated him, the more he would enjoy it. He flinched as howls of laughter rang throughout the dank cold room, the ex-soldiers all agreeing to do as he asked. Finally he was completely naked, the camouflage clad man standing directly behind him slapping his exposed buttocks hard, pinching and twisting the pale flesh hard enough to leave the beginning of a purpling bruise. Groaning under his breath, Spike tried to shut out the sound of his voice telling the man to slap him harder, making his attacker promise to twist his balls hard enough for Spike to pass out. Eyes screwed shut at the request of the Mexican that Spike be lifted up for easier access, Spike suddenly squealed in pain as he felt numerous blunt fingertips dig into the already bruised flesh of his hips.

"If you're gonna fuck me, just wanna let ya know... I want it hard and I want it to last. Make me beg for it, boys, you won't be sorry, that's for sure!" came the words from Spike's trembling lips. Unable to stop himself, he instinctively clenched at the feeling of a finger probing at the tight ring of muscle in his anus. Teeth gritted as he unleashed a howl of denial in his mind, Spike knew without a doubt what he was about to be subjected to, and with that knowledge in mind, he tried to relax himself as much as possible.

Still, Spike was truly unprepared for the pain whencamecame. In one white-hot punch, the grunting and straining soldier behind him ploughed his way through the tight muscles with one unlubricated push of his cock, forcing the long unused muscle unnaturally wide. With tears streaming down his face, Spike shrieked in both the agony and the shock of being brutally penetrated without any preparation or lubrication. "Jesus, mate, you can do better than that. Just go harder and I'll lay over easy for your mates as well. That's it, harder... oh yeah, harder... oh God, this is soooo damn good!"

His head shaking from side to side as he tried to clear the grey haze that had sprung up in front of his eyes, the vampire heard a sickeningly dull thud as his head was smacked into the corner of the tomb, a flare of nausea welling up from deep within as the resulting sharp, throbbing pain threatened to overcome him. His head forced still upon the rough stone by unseen hands, Spike dry-retched as he heard himself moan in pleasure, begging the soldier that was currently slamming into him to reach around his middle and play with his foreskin. Spike sniffled at his traitorous voice as he told the soldier to try and rip the foreskin off in one pull, whining in terror as he immediately felt an arm snake around his waist and a hand start tugging and twisting at the sensitive skin, stretching the thin skin as far as it would go.

After what seemed like hours, but could have only been mere minutes, Spike gasped as his assailant pulled out of him to a resounding chorus of cheers. Shaking uncontrollably, he wondered if it was cum, blood or even both running down the back of his legs. The pain crawling over the chipped side of his head and his penis from Martinez's rough hands was nothing compared to the sharp, stabbing pain radiating from Spike's anus, the vampire sobbing all the harder as he watched Martinez blow him kisses at him while relieving Graham of his hold on Spike's right arm. Graham, slapping the swarthy Mexican on the back in congratulations, walked slowly around the back of Spike, all the while undoing his belt and pulling at the zipper keeping his army pants up.

His stomach gurgling and churning in reaction to the horrendous amount of cum he had been forced to swallow from each of the ex-soldiers before the night had taken a turn for the worse, Spike found that no matter how hard he tried to will his body to move, he was unable to do anything but feel the full force of every single thrust as Graham pushed his cock through Spike's steadily bruising anal tissue. Spike was shamed to his very core when the third rapist, an unnamed figure with a penis, made a mockery of wiping at the tears running down the vampire's face; the dark haired man sneering and laughing at him even as he held out a strip of cloth torn from Spike's shirt for the vampire to blow his nose on. Too terrified to even try and struggle any more, Spike let out a small whisper of protest when he felt the ex-soldier ready himself by gripping onto Spike's tender hips, the vampire telling the unknown man that as he was feeling just a little *dirrrtty*, please, could he do the right thing and piss *in* him once he was done; after all as Spike cheerfully stated, he really was nothing more than a walking toilet. The request was dutifully carried out, a humiliated Spike dry retching when he smelt the urine as the warm liquid trickled down his inner thighs. Twice more Spike had to endure the relentless thrusting of a man determined to show a Master Vampire what his true place in society was, the vampire cheering the remaining men on even as he scrunched his eyes closed tight, not wanting to see any indication of whether they were going to start another round of rapes.

"Damn! Wasn't that just the best?" screamed Spike, a happiness he sure as hell didn't feel colouring his words as Riley and the soldier he had never caught the name of let go of his arms and in one sudden movement, shoved him off the slab with such force, he landed a good few feet from the stone coffin onto the dirt encrusted floor of the chilly crypt. Shaking and weeping as he attempted to curl into a tight ball, the degraded vampire continued, "Thank you, and I seriously mean it, thank you so damn much for what was possibly the best fuck up the arse I've *ever* had and because you lot did such a f'n fantastic job, I'm gonna get you to line up so that I can personally clean you all off. Remember, born to do this job I was, bloody great at it as well."

Pulled, pushed and bullied into kneeling, the vampirercelrcely paid any attention to the broken mortar digging into his battered kneecaps. A high-pitched parody of a laugh escaped him when he noticed that his nose was running, Spike reaching up with a trembling hand and wiping underneath it as he asked for the first volunteer to step up so that he could begin. Shoulders spasming in pain and fright, he couldn't understand why he was saying the exact opposite of what he wanted. Touching lightly at the ribs that Spike knew without a doubt had been broken by Graham's stomping when he had spat out the blond's foul tasting cum after being forced to suck the man off, the vampire watched with a sick feeling in his stomach as all five men pulled their army pants down to their knees, not having to unzip them as none of them had even bothered to do them up after raping Spike. A glaring indication that it was going to be a long night for Spike.

Swallowing in nervous fright as he saw the red haired Corey approach his open mouth while stroking his semi erect cock into a harder rod, Spike jumped as he heard a noise behind him. With an ear bent towards the repetitive sound, Spike hoped that it would help to take his mind off the revolting taste in front of him. Eyes scrunched tightly shut once more, Spike forced himself to concentrate on what sounded like his name being called louder and louder rather than the warm flesh being slid between his lips.

//Spike, wake up!//

The vampire frowned, holding his head rigid as the hard cock repeatedly grazed the back of his throat. He knew that voice but he just wasn't sure where from. It was definitely familiar though. The instant he felt a gentle hand run fingers through his hair, Spike gave into another wave of panic, gagging as he feared that the soldier was preparing to shove his cock as far down his throat as it would go.

//SPIKE... SPIKE, WILL YOU WAKE UP?//



"Spike, wake up!"

"SPIKE... SPIKE, WILL YOU WAKE UP?" demanded Xander, annoyance staining his words as he tried to get Spike to wake up from whatever nightmare he was currently stuck in even as he ran a gentle hand through the gagging, bleached blond's hair. Looking down at an increasingly distressed vampire, Xander wondered if what had been revealed earlier that day in the bathroom had been the trigger for what just had to be one hell of a nasty nightmare.

Xander was still half asleep, only a few minutes fresh from a weird-arsed dream in which he had been baby-sitting a dog that had done nothing but whimper and whine at him. He had been setting down another plate of rainbow coloured peppermint ice-cream for the dog to eat in an attempt to get it to shut up when he had been jerked awake by the sound of something or someone trying to be violently ill. Heart thumping a million miles a minute, he had flailed around blindly in the dark for the bedside light, snapping the switch on just as he managed to convince himself that there was a demon in his basement that was preparing to dismember and eat him. Oh yeah, there had been a demon in his basement all right, just not one that looked like doing anything to him in the near future.

Xander had been stunned to see Spike in the throes of a very vivid dream, quickly putting two and two together and realising that the crying dog in his dreams had actually been the vampire. Pretty sure that a bowl of ice-cream wasn't about to make anything better for Spike, Xander had instantly reached out a hand, stroking his fingers through the softly curling bleached hair when Spike gave a strangled shriek and flinched from whatever his mind was showing him.

"Come on, Spike, I know that you can hear me. Just wake up and everything will be fine,” said Xander, his words punctuated by yawns as he fought to stay awake. Continuing to make small circles over Spike's scalp with his longer fingers, Xander sighed in irritation as he saw that the nightmare had too much of a hold on Spike. Hand pulled away from the soft hair, Xander chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before lifting his hand, and slapping Spike none too gently across his face.

Jerking awake as the sudden pain dulled into a warm bloom across his right cheek, Spike panted in shock as he looked wildly around the room, terrified that he was still trapped in the horrendous nightmare and that he would be bent over another inanimate object in only a few seconds time. He yelped as he noticed someone sitting only a hands width from him, gagging once more, this time in relief as he realised that it was only the Whelp sitting on the bed with him.

~ Bloody hell, the boy must have slapped me one! ~

"You OK now?" yawned Xander, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he peered blearily at the still shaking vampire.

Even as Xander spoke the words in a gratingly annoyed tone, for a brief moment, Spike fancied he could hear an element of concern colouring the words. As fleeting as the concern for his welfare had been, Spike nevertheless grabbed onto it, nodding at Xander even as he flinched in fright when one of the bed springs pinged under his shifting weight.

~ No, not bloody likely, Mate. F'n well glad you woke me up but... ~

Not bothering to finish his train of thought, Spike sighed and sniffled wetly as the last of his tears tapered off. Embarrassed that he had been crying yet again after almost two weeks after his beating and gang rape, the vampire threw back the worn blankets and sheets, getting to his feet. The wall behind the bed held onto for a moment so that he could steady himself, Spike slowly hobbled the few steps into the kitchen, the small area dimly illuminated by the bedside lamp. Reaching into the cupboard underneath the scratched and dented linoleum counter, Spike pulled out two glasses, looking over at a still yawning Xander and shaking one at him.

No, no, I don't want a fucking glass of water. I want to go to sleep, alone. All by myself, in *my* bed, *alone* in my bed and I really want you to just fuck right off but hey, White Knight here which means I'm a sensitive new age kinda guy so what the Hell? Xander swallowed his continual resentment of being forced into Spike's presence as he was almost overwhelmingly tempted to take Spike up the basement stairs, open the door, shove the blond outside and lock it. Instead, he nodded his head at the visibly trembling vampire. "Um, yeah... yeah, thanks."

~Not a problem Harris, least that the former Sunnydale Terror can do for his human keeper~

Twisting the kitchen sink's tap on so that a slow trickle of ice cold water started to fill one of the chipped glasses, the corners of Spike's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile as he cocked on ear towards the bed, listening as Xander mumbled under his breath to himself. FUCK! I can't believe I'm going to do this. Giles soooo seriously owes me for this! Xander snarked to himself. "Ahhh. Ummmm, do you... you know, wannatalkaboutitorsomethingelse?"

Spike froze, the filling glass forgotten for a moment as he ran Xander's question through his mind. Did he want to talk about what had happened in the crypt? Not a fucking chance in Heaven. Shaking his head, Spike gave a few strangled noises in Xander's direction as he decided that even though the boy and the Watcher already knew about some of the more humiliating things inflicted on him during the attack in the crypt, he would die a happy second death if no-one else ever found out about that he had been the unwilling bottom for a pack of humans. His soft smile broadened for a brief second as he took in Xander's obvious sigh of relief. As far as Spike was concerned, the only thing more humiliating than being a bitch for Riley and Arseholes Inc would have been if he had gone down on all fours willingly and without a fight. Taking a deep breath as the memories threatened to overwhelm him once again, Spike reminded himself that he *hadn't* just rolled over and given his arse up, that he *had* kept saying No, even if he had been forced to ask for it in the end. The glass full, Spike gathered up the first one and walked towards the uncomfortable bed, only spilling a few drops due to his ungainly walk. One glass handed to a steadily awakening Xander, Spike placed his own on the floor beside the bed before climbing back into it. Refusing to look over at Xander as the younger man sipped at the cold water, Spike lay on his completely healed back, ignoring the twinges of his still aching ankle and hand as he tried to find solace from his nightmare by staring at the scungy roof.

"As unpleasant as this little holiday has been for me, I'm going back to work on Monday. You'll have to run around after yourself now, you know, actually do stuff for yourself like maybe find another crypt or one of those abandoned warehouses that your kind like so much. I mean, you're walking pretty well now, so you're good to go." Xander stated, glancing towards Spike to see if his words made an impact on the vampire.

~ Why don't you just say it, Pet, fuck off! You don't want me here, I get that... none of you lot want me, couldn't give a continental shit what happened to me, but I'm tellin' you right now... this is how bloody sad I've become, I don't want to leave. I hate that I'm like this, a sissy boy. I hate the way I feel, so stupid and weak and inadequate. I'm a demon, Master Vampire I am and have been for over 70 years. Great Grandson to the Master Aurelius himself, in line for the leadership of the Clan after me Sire, Angelus. I'm William the Bloody, and I don't want to leave because I'm scared!~

Unable to voice his fears to the person next to him, Spike simply shrugged and turned on his side away from Xander, wiping discreetly at the tears that had started to roll down his face.

~ What the hell do I do if Arsewipe and Pricks find me again, because they won't be leaving me alive next time. I don't want to die a final death, not just yet, no matter how tempting it has been and still is. I can't, I won't give in to what they want, even though I keep thinking how easy it would be to just blow away in the sun or stake meself with a coffee table leg. Can't though, because when it comes down to the crunch of things, me survival instinct is too strong. F'n hell, I tried though... when you went to the Watchers house for the last Scooby meeting. Ripped the leg of that ugly piece of shit you call a coffee table. Held the broken bit to me chest, couldn't push it through though... hands wouldn't work so I couldn't. Dropped the bit of wood on the ground and stared at it for the next half hour. ~

A hiccup broke through the silence in the chilly basement as Spike recalled how he had tried to dust himself, only to find that the inbuilt survival instinct that came with being a vampire was all too strong.

~ Sorta just glued it back on and hoped you wouldn't notice the table's wobbly now. Don't know why I even tried... stupid wanker that I am. Never heard of a vampire offin' itself, especially not a Master Vampire. Only ones who bloody do are the minions and that’s only on a Sire's orders anyway. Deserve it most of the time as well, stupid gits. Anyhow, *that’s* why your table leans to one side now. ~

Xander sighed at the vampire rolling onto his side so that his back was facing Xander, wondering who had been the people that had beaten and raped the demon. As much as he disliked Spike and tried to tell himself that he didn't care what happened to the bleached blond once he left the basement for good, Xander found that he had a tiny spark of compassion for Spike. Small, weak and threatening to blow out for good but nonetheless, it was there. It was the compassion that made him concerned for the vampire’s safety. Acknowledging that he was often too nice for his own good, and thinking that it was just another symptom of the ongoing White Knight Syndrome, Xander knew that he couldn't just kick Spike out into the frosty night without being assured that Spike wasn't going to walk straight back into danger. Besides, he knew without a doubt that Willow and Tara would give him their most disapproving and disappointed frowns when they learnt of what he had done, something that he was powerless against.

Shaking his head as he tried to ignore the sobbing broken up by soft hiccups coming from Spike, Xander turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the dank basement into total darkness. Surprised by a yawn, he snuggled down into the barely warm covers of the thin blankets, on the verge of slipping into sleep. Eyes closed and concentrating on evening out his breathing, Xander felt Spike move around the bed before lying still once more. As images rushed towards him signalling what was the beginning of a technicoloured dream, Xander barely registered the feel of a small, cool hand clutching at his larger one, holding onto it tightly. Not bothering to shake the other hand off, Xander allowed the dream to envelop him.