Not Forgotten

Chapter 8


“Do you think she suspected anything?”

“Why would she, little pet?”

“Well…because…it’s Willow, she suspects anyone of anything. She’s like Sherlock Holmes but without the pipe and the deerstalker hat…although, she would look kinda sweet with one of those…”

“Xan?”

“Oh, yeah, digressing again. So, do you think?”

“Think of what?”

“That Willow *knows.*”

“No. I don’t think. Want to know what I actually think?”

“I guess, as long it doesn’t involve entrails and things that go squelch in the night.”

“You really are the world’s softest vampire,” Spike observed.

“And proud of it. So, go on. What does my Sire think?”

“Your Sire thinks that Willow thinks that me and you are doing the nasty.”

“Nasty? As in naughty touching?”

“And such.”

“Oh. Well, we kind of are. Although we’re not…we don’t…because of…and there’s the…Shit. I’m really not sure what we’re doing.”

Spike stepped in, gently pulling Xander against his body. “Not sure either, Xan,” Spike whispered, ghosting his hand over Xander’s face and through his hair. “Let’s just call it, going with the flow.”

“I can live with that…um, un-live with that.”

Lips touched only briefly before the intensity of the moment pulled them apart.

“So Willow thinks…I mean, knows that there is something between us.”

“I reckon so, luv.”

“Shit. She’ll tell.”

“You think?”

“I know. If Willow just thought I’d made a bad choice in boyfriend, she’d definitely talk to me about it. But…it’s you. We’re talking about…me and you. She’ll tell Buffy. Or maybe Giles.”

“Maybe.”

“Why are you being so calm?”

“Well, what can they do? So we’re together. So what? It’s our business. Nothing to do with the Slayer or her bloody watcher.”

“It will be their business if they find out about me being all grr.”

Spike considered this for a moment. “Actually, been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“That sounds ominous. I don’t think I like the serious tone, there.”

“Pet…When are you going to tell them?”

“Tell them what?”

“You know bloody well what. You will need to tell them, one day. Either that or we leave Sunnydale, for good.”

“I don’t want to leave. Not yet. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Then we risk them finding out. Probably better to tell them first.”

“No. I can’t. I don’t think I have the words.”

“I could…”

“No! I can’t let you do that. Can’t we just leave it? Just for now?”

“’Course. If that’s what you want.”

“Really?”

“Just said, didn’t I? You want it that way, you got it that way.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Pet, why would I mind? It’s your thing. This has happened to you.”

“No, Spike. It happened to you too.”

“Well, regardless, I want you to make the decision. I’ll just be the one that sticks close by.”

“Close by?”

“Stuck right fucking next to you, little pet. With industrial strength super glue. Always said I’d be here for you, remember?”

Xander nodded and folded Spike into his arms. “My Spike. I think we should do something manly,” he said suddenly.

“Manly?”

“Yeah, like watch an action flick starring Bruce Willis.”

“Why’s that, then?”

“Because I’m feeling…sappy.”

“You mean poncy.”

“Exactly. So, Die Hard?”

Spike laughed and started digging through the video tapes. “How about a Die Hard Marathon? We’ll get drunk enough by the third one that we have to keep rewinding it at the part where he shoots out of that pipe with all that water.”

“Hey, I never could work that out!”

“See? Bet you were too off your skull at that point.”

“You know, I can’t remember.”

“I rest my case.”

**

“Xan? What you doing up here?”

“Just…looking.”

Spike crossed the living room and knelt at his Childe’s side. “That your mum?” Spike asked, pointing to an old black and white photo in Xander’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s her. She was nineteen when this was taken.”

Spike nodded.

“Can you see me in the picture?”

Spike took the photograph and looked carefully. “Can’t see no nipper.”

“That’s right. I was in there.” Xander pointed to his mother’s stomach. “This was taken on the day that she found out that she was pregnant with me.”

“She looks happy.”

“Yeah. She was. She loved me. Once.”

“Xan…”

“She loved me until I became an inconvenience, a costly nuisance.”

“I’m sure that isn’t…”

“It is true. If she hadn’t had me, then she probably wouldn’t have stayed with my dad. She wouldn’t have started drinking. She would have had her own career, her own life. I got in her way. I was a dead weight.”

“That what she told you?”

Xander sniffed and nodded.

“She did love you, pet.”

“How would you know that?!” Xander snapped. “The first time you met her was the night that you killed her!”

Spike bit his tongue and stayed quiet. Xander was upset and he was lashing out.

“Sorry, Spike. I didn’t mean…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You gotta do the grieving thing.”

“Do you really think she did? Love me?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

“Why?”

“Because she tried to turn you. She was a fledge and she tried to Sire you. Most fledges can only think about their stomachs when they wake. Her first thought? She wanted you to be with her. She could have just drained you and left you. But she didn’t do that, pet, did she?”

“I guess not.”

“Carry that thought with you, Xan. No matter what happened between you, she still loved you enough to…”

“Kill me?”

“To try and keep you for eternity.”

“But, the things she used to say to me…”

“Drink makes you say lots of things. You were an easy target for her whisky-induced frustrations. Try and think, luv. Did she ever do anything nice for you? Anything at all?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Think.”

“Sometimes her and dad would row. They would shout at each other and sometimes I would hear them say stuff about me. And it would make me cry. My mom, after the argument when dad was either passed out or he’d stormed out the house, she’d come into my room and give me cookies. My favourite cookies.”

“There you go. That was a nice thing. Bet she wasn’t drinking when she did that.”

Xander shook his head. “No. She wasn’t. That came later.”

“Anything else nice? What was the last nice thing she did for you?”

Xander had to think hard about that one. There was a lot of badness and heartache to claw through to reach the answer to that question. “Actually,” he said finally. “When I split up with Cordy, she said that she was glad. She was fall-down-drunk, of course, but she gave me this funny look and she patted my hand and she said, ‘That girl wasn’t good enough for you.’ I’m being stupid, right? It was just…the look on her face. It was like she really meant it.”

“Probably because she did mean it, pet.”

“Is it wrong that I’m glad she’s gone? Maybe now she can find some sort of peace.”

“No, little pet. It ain’t wrong. Some people, as good a person as they are on the inside, they won’t ever be able to find peace in this lifetime. You can’t do nothing for them. Too far gone. All the shrinks and all the therapy and comforting words, it don’t help them. It’s over for her now. She can be free. She can rest.”

Xander gathered up the scattered photos and placed them back in the box. Crossing to the other side of the living room, he neatly put the box of photos back in the drawer.

Spike got up from his knees and sat on the couch. He stared up at his Childe and knew that Xander was going to ask.

“Spike? Where’s my dad?”


**

Spike had known this was coming. He’d known it for a long time.

After the spell to restore Xander’s soul, his Childe’s memories of being a vampire had been completely wiped out. However, it was only a temporary effect of the spell. And, sure enough, one by one each memory had slowly returned. Some quicker than others, but they all returned. Except one.

Spike had wondered for a while if it was due more to a human thing. Xander’s mind blanking out a terrible trauma. Or perhaps it was the demon, protecting and shielding its still fragile host.

Whatever the reason for the memory blank, Spike had made a decision. He wouldn’t go out of his way to tell Xander about his father. He would let his Childe remember it on his own, in his own time. Spike had also come to another decision. If Xander asked, then he would tell him the truth. Just because Spike was unwilling to push the memory on his Childe, it didn’t mean that he would hide the truth from him.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Spike was startled by Xander’s voice. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

Xander sat on the couch and looked sadly into Spike’s eyes. “I knew it. I could *feel* it.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Xander slowly shook his head. “I can’t remember anything. Do you think I will, one day?”

“Probably. Do you want me to tell you what happened, luv?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Sure? We can wait until you remember, talk about it then?”

“No. I need to know now. Please tell me. Which one of us killed him?”

“He came down. Into the basement. You…you were sleeping in my arms. He caught us, started yelling. Spooked you good and proper, little pet. I tried to get you back. Wanted to get you away from him. That was when he went for me. Told me to get my filthy faggot hands off you.”

“He hurt you.”

“Yeah, landed me some right good blows. The man certainly knew how to hit.”

“I know. Then what happened?”

“Well, he got the better of me, didn’t he? Wasn’t like I had much of a chance to fight back, was it? Fucking chip.”

Xander suddenly covered his eyes with the heels of his palms as the memories flashed back at him

Angry.

Shouting.

Hurting my Sire.

Hate him.

Kill him.

And Xander remembered.

He remembered pulling his father away from his Sire.

He remembered pounding until his father was spitting blood.

He remembered tearing his father’s throat open and sampling his first taste of human blood.

Hm, a little salty. Hey, this would taste better with a dash of ketchup and a dollop of mayo.

He remembered laughing and callously throwing his father's dead body to the floor.

He remembered sinking his hand back into the open wound at his father’s throat, fascinated by the man’s silky warm blood.

He remembered holding his blood-coated hand up to the light. So shiny.

He remembered bringing that hand to his mouth for a second taste.

“Oh gods, it was me. I-I remember. Oh god, Spike, I killed my own father.”

“You defended me, little pet. That’s all it was. You stepped in when he got the better of me. You protected me, your Sire. It was instinct.”

“Really? So I gave him few hard punches and told him to leave you alone or else? No. I ripped his fucking throat out. And you know what? I enjoyed it. Every moment of it.”

“Course you did.”

“What?!”

“You’re a vampire. You kill. That’s what you do. That’s what I did for over a century. It was your…”

“Yeah, I know, my demon. You know, I’m getting real sick of my *demon.* Where is he?”

“What…?”

“The demon. Where is he? What part of me? I’ll cut it out!”

Xander bolted to the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter top. “Tell me where it is, Spike. I can’t have it in me anymore. I can’t stand it! Even now, when I look at the people around me, all I want to do is destroy them. Kill them. Fucking drink them down!”

Spike lunged forward, catching Xander’s wrist and trying to wrench the knife from his hands. “No! Don’t… Give me…”

“Get off me, Spike. Just get off. Let me cut it out…”

“You can’t cut it out. There is no physical demon inside you…”

“There must be, otherwise…where does all this come from? Why am I like this? Why are you like this? It must be in us somewhere! Please, Spike, please let me try. I’ve got to get it out!”

“No!”

“What are you afraid of, Spike? It’s not like this can kill me. No, death is for *other* people!!”

Spike pushed Xander back against the wall, trapping him firmly in the corner. He kept a tight grip of the wrist in his hand and smashed it against the wall, desperately trying to get his Childe to drop the knife before he could hurt himself. “Drop it! Just drop the bloody knife! DROP IT!”

“NO!”

Xander gathered enough strength to push Spike away from him. He kicked out and landed a lucky blow that sent Spike flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the floor.

“Have to get it out. Makes me…makes me do things…”

Spike got to his feet and propelled himself across the room. He wasn’t quick enough. He felt his heart breaking and he screamed with despair as he helplessly watched his beloved Childe plunge the knife deep into his own stomach.

TBC…