Fic: The Shadow by the Door
May. 29th, 2007 06:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: The Shadow by the Door
Author:
lusciousxander
Characters: Xander, Spike (It's not a Spander fic)
Setting: Season 7 after Him
Summary: It's probably a bad idea agreeing to have Spike live in his apartment.
Disclaimer: Belong to Joss and co.
Rating: For adults from the age of 18
Warning: Attempt of rape
Thanks to
lusciousspike for the quick beta
Written to
sunnyd_lite for the Hellmouth Ficathon
Yellow eyes gleamed into the darkness of the room, giving away the shape of the dark face staring at him. The figure was nothing more than a shadow bordered by the faint light from outside. The strong stance of the shadowed figure sent tremors down Xander's torso. Everything was quiet and still. Eyes of the devil looked right at him, cold and firm.
"What do you want?" Xander stammered when he gathered up his courage.
The panic was loud and clear in his voice. He knew it was a bad idea to have Spike in his apartment. He didn't trust the bastard. Not after he had hurt Buffy. However, he learned to trust Buffy more on these matters. He would keep doing so until proven wrong. Right now he dreaded that Buffy would be proven wrong.
Spike didn't answer. His features couldn't be distinguished as they were mere black. Golden eyes were still firm and determined. They stayed like this for a long time. Xander couldn't handle it anymore.
"Is this some sick game?" he exclaimed.
No answer. He waited for the anticipated attack, heart thumbing like crazy. No movement. He knew if nothing was about to happen, the waiting would be the thing killing him. But then Spike started eerily moving forward. A cold stab of fear shot through him making his heart jump. With no control of him, he jerked backward, falling off the bed onto his back on the floor. He frantically waved with his arms around in the darkness, trying to hold onto something in order to get up, but his body was wrapped by the blanket.
His fingers finally clung to the edge of the bed, and he was able to pull himself up. On his knees, he peered over the bed at the door. No one was there. He looked around his room, incredulous. There was no sight of Spike. Then again, there was no sight of anything in the dark room. Spike might be here but hiding some place, waiting for the right moment to leap. The hand on the mattress shook uncontrollably, his eyes traveling around the dark room, only the dim light from outside the door helped give shadows of the items in the room.
With a slight feeling of apprehension, he pulled himself up to his feet and slowly made his way to the door. His eyes searching the room again as he walked, meeting nothing but chilling darkness. Standing by the door, he turned on the light switch. He looked back at the room, it looked normal and secure right now. Maybe it was time to consider sleeping with the lights on from now on.
He walked outside, leaving the lights on of course, and sauntered to the small room where Spike was supposed to be. He laid his hand on the doorknob dreading what was behind the door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle and the door opened slowly with that freaky Resident Evil door-opening sound. He looked inside into an even darker room than his own. He turned the light switch on quickly to evade the darkness.
Spike was there, lying on bed, asleep.
He gazed at him trying really hard to believe his eyes. Spike was there. On the bed curled up to the side, his back to Xander. Xander walked slowly to the other side of the bed in an attempt to make sure this sleeping person was actually Spike and not some disturbing plastic doll. He examined the features of the man sleeping before him. He was Spike no doubt. Here. Asleep.
So who was that creepy guy standing by his door earlier? Was that just a nightmare? He did fall off the bed in that waking-up-from-a-nightmare sort of way. Maybe the thought of Spike living with him was freaking him out more than he thought.
It felt so real though.
With a weary sigh, he walked outside the small room, turning off the lights. He looked cautiously at his room, not sure if he could get some shut eye in there tonight. Actually, the thought of going back to sleep scared him more. It was like when he was six, afraid of the monster under the bed.
Maybe he could stay up until it was time for work.
~*~*~*~*~
He stirred awake at the sound of a door opening. He bolted upright, eyes searching the room in fright. Suddenly, he heard his fridge opening and jumped off the couch, looking at the kitchen area. Spike was there, his back to him. Xander swallowed hard, gazing at his vamp-roomie. Spike turned around with a mug and before he got a sip, he caught the sight of Xander watching him.
Xander swallowed a lump in his throat. "You're awake?" he blurted out.
"Just drinking some blood."
"Uh huh." Taking a few breaths to calm himself down. Spike resumed drinking his blood in indifference. Man, he knew that the incident earlier was nothing more than a nightmare. Spike had been in his room, sleeping like the dead. Unless… he was pretending to sleep like the dead because he was dead and he didn't need the whole even breathing thing that usually ruined sleep-pretending plans. So he was still rolling on the idea of homicidal Spike in his head. But what if it was really a nightmare? Then he would be pulling a Shaggy with a final degree on pathetic.
He watched Spike trailing a finger around the inside of his mug to catch the last of the sticky red fluid. It was hard trying to act cool. He was seriously freaking out and he had to make peace with his fretting mind. "You didn't happen to have…" he started nervously, Spike looked at him, "Stopped by my room… earlier tonight?"
"Why would I do that?" the answer was very quiet, very casual, very… indifferent.
"Right." He ran a sweaty palm over his hair. "So, uh, look at the time… one hour before I head for work. Gotta take a shower. Get my suit… wear my silk tie… silk ties work well with suits. They get the promotions hopping, you know?"
No nod of acknowledgement, no snippy remark, not even a disgusted look. Spike just casually went to the sink to wash his bloody mug –like Xander would even consider drinking from that again.
Xander nodded and moved toward his room, a little sulky. Closing the door behind him, he was struck by the fact that he was in his room. Eyes warily searched over the room. He shivered in disgust. It was a nightmare- of the horror flick type. No need to make a fuss. He thought about hunting for his formalwear, but something was still nagging at his brain. He quickly opened the door and faced the kitchen area where Spike was placing the mug in the cupboard.
"You know, pal, you're just jealous of my Armani tie," he snapped. "Oh, and by the way, keep the mug."
Spike frowned, about to say something, but then Xander hurriedly closed the door. There. A reaction. All he wanted was a reaction.
~*~*~*~*~
He could barely drag his feet into his apartment. From work to checking in with his friends to running by Anya- which was never of the good these days- to almost getting hit by a drunk teen driving a truck… it was his turn to get drunk.
He went for the cupboard and brought out a bottle of whiskey. It was after Spike started living with him that he started to appreciate good whiskey, he had been mostly a beer person.
Spike. He glanced at what used to be his empty closet. That whole Spike nightmare was still fresh in his mind. He couldn't forget the eyes that loomed at him. The way Spike slowly moved toward him like he didn't need to move any faster because in the end he would get what he wanted. And making Xander food was defiantly on his to-do list. The only thing keeping Xander sane was the comforting thought of the chip. Without it, Xander wasn't sure he'd live to see this day. Then again, without the chip, Xander wouldn't have had Spike as an unwanted guest in the first place.
Suddenly, he felt a quick movement behind him and then something jagged hit him on the head. Everything went black right after that.
~*~*~*~*~
The aching ropes that firmly held his wrists were the first thing he felt when he woke up. He could feel his wrists and ankles tightly held in place and the ability to move was out. The ropes bruised his skin at every desperate shift. When the pain became more pronounced he stopped wriggling and lay still… on a bed. He wasn't sure if it was his own bed, but a man could still wish, especially when a tingle of air brushed lightly on his thighs and stomach. His bare thighs and stomach.
He was tied up, naked, on a bed he couldn't tell if it was his or not. It was all about the feeling. He couldn't see his situation because as wide as he opened his eyes, black was all he could see. He was blindfolded by some soft material. Silky, soft material… his silk tie apparently. He shivered when a touch of air danced around his naked body some more… and right at that moment, fear started creeping down his spine.
When the sense of sight was absent, all he could do was rely on his other senses. There was no significant smell. The only feelings around were itchy ropes, silky blindfolds, a soft mattress. As for the sense of hearing, behold the sounds of silence. He wanted to scream for help but feared it would attract trouble his way. Well, attract it faster, anyway. Because nothing about this situation said safe unless it was another sex game from Anya, and a sex game with Anya would mean that all events after his non-wedding were a long, horrible nightmare. If only.
"Well, well," the familiar mocking voice startled him. "Look at you all spread out for me. Naked. Vulnerable. So easy to hurt."
His heart started beating fast. His throat felt dry and he couldn't form a word. Buffy was proven wrong. Buffy was proven so fucking wrong.
"S-Spike?" he stuttered. He was right all along, all those times, he was right, but would Buffy listen? Noooo. In the end he was the one to pay for her not listening to him.
"Got that right," it had been awhile since he heard that smug tone. It was never really missed, not that he ever missed the one using it. "How does it feel like?" Spike went on.
"W-what?" He hated that he kept stuttering. Even though he was in a horrific situation, he wanted to hold on to that last string of dignity he still had.
There was a long silence and Xander thought Spike had left the room. He still felt the slow prickle of fear that raised every hair on the back of his neck. Then he felt a ghostly finger trace the line up his thigh before fingers joined to touch the area around Xander's shaft. He jolted violently, but the firm hold on his limbs disabled him from moving at all. The light touching of his naked body went on, and then Xander realized what Spike meant. Humiliation. Spike wanted to humiliate him. That pathetic bastard.
He was touching his… his… shit! What the hell? Spike's hand stroked his penis randomly and then it hit Xander that humiliation didn't only involve naughty touching, but rape. Sick, sick raping with the tying up and the case of silk-tie blindfolding. He tried to desperately free himself, but his attempts were useless. When all tries failed, Xander reserved to the only effective weapon he knew that never failed him all these years.
"Gonna bring on the monster-still action, your Soulfulness? Good thing the ability of seeing and moving won't stop me from enjoying your roars of pain."
"Only one getting roars of pain is you, Twit."
"Riiight," he drawled. "And I suppose you're forgetting the one thing that can mess up your twisted plan. I don't know, a little piece of metal in your skull?"
There was a scary silence that lasted a few minutes until the dreadful smug voice returned, "That's not a problem, anymore."
He felt his blood turn ice at these words. It was like he literally froze. He always saw this day coming, always knew the aftermath and yet played naïve. It didn't matter how many times he warned Buffy and the others, it didn't matter how many times he pointed out facts, thing was he never did anything about it. It was time to get bitten on the ass.
"How?" His ears didn't even hear it.
There was no answer. His muscles tensed when the set of hands touched his naked body again. The more they touched and fondled the more he wondered about the possibility of dying from mortification. His lips formed in a thin line and his fists shook in anger. He wished for torture, biting, death but not for this. This was much worse.
He could hear Spike humming while he kept touching him. The whole naughty touching and song humming act was giving freaky vibes to Xander's non-functional brain. This was probably the number one moment on his list of humiliations. It was like he was a stallion in some British animal shopping place with some rich Englishman examining him for good use. Great. Now he was having sexual fantasies.
He knew how it would end. But he wouldn't beg or cry, never give the bastard the satisfaction of breaking him. He'd be strong, even if it cost him his life, which in this case was a definite possibility.
It went on like forever… to the point where Xander was taking a little bit interest to the light, butterfly touches. He bit his lower lip in a desperate attempt to get his penis less interested in the stupid touching. It had never worked when he used to be a horny teenager with rushing hormones and right now it turned out that rushing hormones had nothing to do with it not working. Could this get any worse? Spike's mocking little snicker made Xander's blood boil.
"Get on with it already!" he snapped. "You wanna rape me? Do it. Do it, you sick twisted freak. Do it!" And then the tears of shame and anger started to form. He was begging Spike to rape him. This was the worst scenario he had ever lived through during a life of regular humiliations.
He could feel the right side of the bed bend as someone, obviously Spike, climbed on. Spike sat on the lower part of Xander's stomach. He grimaced in disgust when Spike leaned over him and inhaled deeply. "Always get your bloody knickers in a twist," a cruel whisper to his ear. "I'll give you a good seeing to."
A few daunting seconds passed before he felt a set of sharp teeth sliding like needles into his flesh, not his neck… but at the skin surrounding his nipple. Xander screamed in agony. As it was, tears rushed into his eyes and the pain made his brain shut down. He rocked on the bed violently, his head swinging from right to left while Spike sucked blood from one of the most sensitive spots on his body. Spike's tongue played with the tip of Xander's nipple but that didn't help ease up the pain of having his blood being pulled out from his body.
The fangs pulled away roughly, Xander's flesh tore with the sudden act. He almost thought his nipple was ripped off from his chest. Tears fell down like rivers and his dull ears heard the evil chuckle that was followed by another dose of sharp pain in the area surrounding his other nipple. Blades of sharp teeth slid into his skin, ripping and tearing at the flesh right above his left nipple. He cried out at the pain, throwing his head back.
"God, stop!" he screamed in misery. He screamed the loudest he could, not only out of hope that someone would hear him, but more because screaming helped him focus on something other than the awful pain.
The evil chuckle didn't stop as blood was sucked out of his body. Spike's hands pulled hard on his penis and balls. The pain and mortification ran cold down his torso and he wished he'd drop dead at this instant. He'd die like a pathetic coward with no pride but at least the pain and humiliation would stop. He just wanted the laughing to stop. The torture on his upper body was enough without the scornful chuckles.
The fangs snatched some of his flesh as they pulled out sharply, leaving Xander to cry out in agony. His throat was raw when he finally stopped howling. He shuddered a few breaths before he gritted, "Buffy's gonna kill you for this, you fuck!"
Spike had the sarcastic remark ready but Xander didn't hear it. The pain was too definite that the remark sounded far away. He could feel the naughty touching again along with the humming and he couldn't stand it emotionally and physically.
He was starting to get a little dizzy, which was probably from blood-loss. His hands were getting numb from the tight ropes. He lost the will to struggle, leaving Spike's hands touching him in inappropriate places, feeling more and more like a cheap toy to be played with. He could feel the area around his nipples leaking blood, the worry that he would die from blood loss increased as hope for any rescue mission from Buffy lessened. He already stopped praying for Buffy to pass by for another checking out on Spike visit.
A piece of cloth hit his face followed by sounds of clothes thrown around. It was time to get raped apparently. Spike was murmuring some song he didn't recognize before his Spike bits were seated on Xander's bits. He tried to breathe but the panic attack and the fabric on his face made it harder. He tried to suck more air into his lungs but ended up coughing hard. He shook his head around until the material on his face fell to his right side. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself, hearing Spike sing in amusement.
Then a cool, rough tongue hungrily licked his chest, mainly the injured spots at first, but then the tongue traveled up toward the soft spot between his neck and shoulder. He sucked on his breath, especially as he felt bumps pressing up on his skin. He was going to get neck-bit… for the very first time. Would it hurt more than the bites around his nipples?
His stomach recoiled as he was close to vomiting. He waited for the foul taste to reach his mouth and wished the vomiting would shoot at the bastard's face, who was still singing that stupid tune.
Xander shook in frustration. "Quit it! Do you always sing when you have sex?"
Suddenly his bed rocked hard, Spike's nails sunk into his skin. Xander howled in pain, there was laughter, cruel laughter, and there was sad moaning going along with Xander's screams. He inhaled and exhaled in more attempts to get the calming thing going and his poor brain that gave up all together on functioning tried to get one thing straight.
The sound of anguish moaning was very clear and it sure wasn't Xander's. The laughing was there as well and it was Spike's. Was there someone else in the room? A human-food Spike kept around to enjoy while he watched the new episode of Torture the Xander? He could expect anything from Spike at the moment. After being disabled for three years, he sure had time for creativity new torturing techniques. And nothing hurt Xander more than humiliation, which was funny since he had a lot of practice in that area.
"Spi…"
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Xander quickly closed his mouth shut, trembling. He hated being scared of Spike, but he really was. Scared of Spike. Long time since he felt that way. Spike knew a lot about him by now, so it wouldn't be that hard to torture Xander with all his insecurities and worse yet… hurting and killing the people he cared about in front of him as he watched. This was the first time he wished that Spike truly loved Buffy. If he really was, Xander wouldn't be in this pathetic position to begin with.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up."
The shut ups went on going parallels with the shouting inside Xander's. Shut out. Shut out. Shut out. The touching, the licking, the biting, the humming… all wouldn't matter if Xander would just shut out. Think of something distracting. Sitting in the Summers' living room with Buffy and Dawn, watching a movie and eating popcorn. Going to a fancy restaurant with Anya. Trying to act clever when Willow and Giles spoke the language of books.
Spike's dumb song drifted to his ears again, he focused on the words hoping it would take his mind off the harsh reality. "Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a fair maid sing in the valley down below." Then suddenly the moaning above him stopped and the naughty touching was back. Xander heaved a sigh, feeling his brows furrow in thought.
"Oh, don't deceive me, oh, never leave me. How could you use a poor maid?"
Spike's voice was far. Really far. It accord to him that Spike's shut ups earlier from the loud ones to the murmurs sounded more distress than commanding. He let out a shivering sigh. Was that a sick game? Was Spike playing with his mind? That was the logical explanation. But as the song went on, and the sniffing was around his neck, he could feel a set of closed lips kissing his shoulder.
He moved his head toward the head next to him, his cheek feeling the bone in Spike's cheek. He nuzzled Spike's cheek gently until his nose felt the straps of gelled head. The song went on and Spike's lips kept kissing Xander's neck.
Okay, so he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't that stupid.
"Spike?" he whispered to the head next to him. His head gently nudged the angled cheek. "Spike, answer me."
"What?" the far away voice asked.
"I'm not talking to you."
A mocking chuckle. "Lost your mind, mate? 'Couse the only Spike here is me last I checked."
Xander desperately nudged the face next to him harder. "Spike, wake up now."
"Hmmm, guess Spike's getting bit bored here. How about we get to the fun part?"
Suddenly Xander felt Spike's fangs on his shoulder.
"Spike!" he yelled to the ear next to him. "Listen to me, you don't wanna do this," considering his words, he corrected, "Or you probably do, but not tonight. You're being hocus-pocused. And, sure, you're a slow, crazy idiot, but my guts tells me you're strong enough to defeat this thing."
"Shut your yap, tosser!" the far away Spike voice roared. The long fangs were testing his neck while the hands pinched hard at his injured nipples. Whimpering in pain, Xander went on, "S-Spike, c'mon… you got your soul, idiot! Someone with that will power won't be fooled by a stupid demon."
Sharp teeth sunk into his skin and Xander's raw throat let out a sharp scream. The sounds of laughter rang stronger now into his ears. Moved by that small glimpse of false hope, he thought he'd better use what was left of his voice for some useful rambling.
"Spike! Spike! Think of Buffy, Buffy, yeah? A vamped out Xander would hurt her. You don't wanna hurt her, Spike! You love her. The soul's for her, isn't it? Stop! Stop!"
His skin was ripped off as fangs pulled out harshly. A piercing howl came from the figure on top of him and suddenly the silk tie was snatched from his eyes. Light sprung so bright almost blinding his gaze. He snapped his eyes shut for a little bit and once he opened them, his vision was a little fuzzy. There were hazy shapes of a figure in front of him. A very howl-y figure snapped the ropes off his numb wrists and then ankles.
"Get out of my head!" a shout from the real Spike who withdrew in fright, falling off the bed and crawling in fear to the corner.
Xander lay down his head on the pillow, groaning in pain and feeling the blood rush from his shoulder and nipples. His breath was ragged, his throat hoarse from screaming and the sweat was pouring off him in bucket loads. His numb hands and feet lay just where they were without moving. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was in his room. It was dark except for the side lamp that was still blinding his tired eyes. He weakly moved his hand and turned it off, leaving the room in complete darkness. He looked around but no one was there, just him and a sobbing vampire right at the corner. Spike was crouched down with his knees pulled up tight against his chest, and he was pressing himself against the wall as if he wanted to crawl inside it.
He groaned again trying to sit, his limps barely helping him. His eyes landed on his expensive silk tie, just lying there next to Spike's pants. He looked with difficulty back at Spike.
"Spike," he said to the scared vampire. "Stop whatever you're doing and call Buffy's cell." Spike kept rocking and murmuring incomprehensible words as if he didn't hear a word Xander said. "Spike, please, I can't move and I'm losing so much blood."
"There," Spike whimpered looking at the spot behind Xander. "He's there."
Heart still thumbing crazy from the events of the night, Xander dreaded to look back. He took a shuddering breath before he slowly turned his head. There was no one behind him. He didn't even sigh in relief when he looked back at Spike in anger. "Spike, stop it with the crazy for one minute, would you? I'm losing a lot of blood!"
"He's here," Spike sobbed, covering his eyes.
"Who's he?"
Scared eyes looked at him. "Me."
Xander looked at Spike's frightened eyes, uncomfortable. He knew there was some demon ghost here, who sounded just like Spike, who was able to control Spike. He wasn't sure why this demon was after him, unless Anya's vengeance wish on him was delivered late, there was nothing special about Xander except for extra more meat to chew.
"Why can't I see the demon, Spike?" he asked, tired from blood-loss. "I heard his voice earlier, why can't I see him now?"
Spike didn't answer him. He just hid his face again on his knees and whimpered meaningless words. Xander gave a suffering sigh and threw himself to the floor. Sometimes the only way to get things done was by doing them yourself. He crawled with difficulty toward the shivering vampire. "Spike, it's okay, it's gone, whatever it was."
Spike looked at him and Xander forced a reassuring smile. "There you go, now would…" his words were muffled by Spike's lips crushing onto his own. His eyes snapped wide as he fell back with Spike on top of him, devouring his mouth. He considered pushing the freaky vampire off him, when he realized that Spike kissed in desperate need for contact, his arms going around Xander, pulling him close. While the whole thing was disturbing, Xander just let Spike feel safe. He closed his eyes feeling the body of a man touching him in a way he never felt before. Even earlier the touching was more for humiliation, now it was just the need to feel something real. Naked bodies were rubbing against each other. Bleeding shoulder and nipples were still… bleeding.
Xander broke off the kiss, looking at a confused Spike weakly. "This kissing and groping thing is nice and all but I'm in a serious case of passing out, if you know what I mean." He looked miserably at his bleeding chest. He couldn't even see his nipples with blood pouring out messily from them.
That when he was picked up by a quiet Spike. The movement was so sudden his arms wrapped around Spike's neck in a reflex. Spike walked calmly to the bathroom and sat Xander on the toilet seat. He watched Spike looking around for the first aid kit. "It's in the first drawer next to the basin," he instructed, fighting the urge to close his eyes from pain. He had enough of hearing people's movement without seeing.
Spike started cleaning his wounds and patching them up. Xander watched him in complete amazement. Spike had saved his life a few times in the past, but he had never seen this gentle side of him before. Maybe the soul did change him. When Spike looked up at him, he smiled. "Thanks."
Spike nodded before his eyes went back to Xander's chest. At first he thought Spike just focused on cleaning the wound, but now he realized Spike was avoiding his gaze. He was probably embarrassed of his breaking down fest and the kissing fest. "About…" Spike started prickly.
"I know," Xander cut him off gently, allowing him to keep what was left of his dignity, which would have worked fine if they both weren't naked, with manly bits dangling. He flushed, looking at the ceiling, focusing on Spike's 'dignity' and how to save it. "I think I needed it, too," he added.
Spike's hands left his chest. He looked back at the vampire to find him glaring at him. "Don't need your soddin' pity, Harris," an angry hiss before Spike went back to work.
~*~*~*~*~
It was hard though… to look at a trembling and shivering Spike and not feel sympathy. Xander stood by the door to Spike's room, watching the shaking vampire lying asleep on bed whimpering throughout the night.
Xander had told Buffy about the evil ghost haunting Spike, leaving out the parts about naked torture. She had suggested that Spike should move into her basement so she could watch him carefully. Xander refused, claiming that it would be dangerous for Dawn. It took him a lot of effort to convince Buffy to keep Spike in his apartment especially after he promised he'd use handcuffs to tie Spike to bed. He figured if he had told her about the torture, she wouldn't even consider discussing Spike's stay with him and would drag the vampire outside his apartment in a less than a second.
He remembered when she expressed her confusion about Xander's new found empathy for Spike earlier, even though she seemed pleased by it. He wondered if it was only sympathy what he felt about Spike. However, he didn't dwell on it much. He just stared at Spike, trembling, whimpering, scared.
He found himself walking toward him, sitting next to Spike's back. His hand rested on Spike's shaking upper arm and smoothly started to move up and down in a comforting gesture. It seemed to work a little, Spike's body didn't stop shaking but it started to ease a little.
As Xander comforted the distressed vampire, he knew he didn't need to look at the door to see it was standing there. Watching them. All black except for the gleaming eyes. Cold shivers ran down his spine, and he tried to calm himself, because his hand stroked the real torso.
Curiously took over him and he didn't flinch when he found it standing there. It wasn't moving, or talking, or singing, just standing there, locking eyes with Xander. He kept running his hand down the trembling body, reassuring himself with the sense of touch while his eyes looked straight at the ones of the devil.
The End.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Characters: Xander, Spike (It's not a Spander fic)
Setting: Season 7 after Him
Summary: It's probably a bad idea agreeing to have Spike live in his apartment.
Disclaimer: Belong to Joss and co.
Rating: For adults from the age of 18
Warning: Attempt of rape
Thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Written to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Yellow eyes gleamed into the darkness of the room, giving away the shape of the dark face staring at him. The figure was nothing more than a shadow bordered by the faint light from outside. The strong stance of the shadowed figure sent tremors down Xander's torso. Everything was quiet and still. Eyes of the devil looked right at him, cold and firm.
"What do you want?" Xander stammered when he gathered up his courage.
The panic was loud and clear in his voice. He knew it was a bad idea to have Spike in his apartment. He didn't trust the bastard. Not after he had hurt Buffy. However, he learned to trust Buffy more on these matters. He would keep doing so until proven wrong. Right now he dreaded that Buffy would be proven wrong.
Spike didn't answer. His features couldn't be distinguished as they were mere black. Golden eyes were still firm and determined. They stayed like this for a long time. Xander couldn't handle it anymore.
"Is this some sick game?" he exclaimed.
No answer. He waited for the anticipated attack, heart thumbing like crazy. No movement. He knew if nothing was about to happen, the waiting would be the thing killing him. But then Spike started eerily moving forward. A cold stab of fear shot through him making his heart jump. With no control of him, he jerked backward, falling off the bed onto his back on the floor. He frantically waved with his arms around in the darkness, trying to hold onto something in order to get up, but his body was wrapped by the blanket.
His fingers finally clung to the edge of the bed, and he was able to pull himself up. On his knees, he peered over the bed at the door. No one was there. He looked around his room, incredulous. There was no sight of Spike. Then again, there was no sight of anything in the dark room. Spike might be here but hiding some place, waiting for the right moment to leap. The hand on the mattress shook uncontrollably, his eyes traveling around the dark room, only the dim light from outside the door helped give shadows of the items in the room.
With a slight feeling of apprehension, he pulled himself up to his feet and slowly made his way to the door. His eyes searching the room again as he walked, meeting nothing but chilling darkness. Standing by the door, he turned on the light switch. He looked back at the room, it looked normal and secure right now. Maybe it was time to consider sleeping with the lights on from now on.
He walked outside, leaving the lights on of course, and sauntered to the small room where Spike was supposed to be. He laid his hand on the doorknob dreading what was behind the door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle and the door opened slowly with that freaky Resident Evil door-opening sound. He looked inside into an even darker room than his own. He turned the light switch on quickly to evade the darkness.
Spike was there, lying on bed, asleep.
He gazed at him trying really hard to believe his eyes. Spike was there. On the bed curled up to the side, his back to Xander. Xander walked slowly to the other side of the bed in an attempt to make sure this sleeping person was actually Spike and not some disturbing plastic doll. He examined the features of the man sleeping before him. He was Spike no doubt. Here. Asleep.
So who was that creepy guy standing by his door earlier? Was that just a nightmare? He did fall off the bed in that waking-up-from-a-nightmare sort of way. Maybe the thought of Spike living with him was freaking him out more than he thought.
It felt so real though.
With a weary sigh, he walked outside the small room, turning off the lights. He looked cautiously at his room, not sure if he could get some shut eye in there tonight. Actually, the thought of going back to sleep scared him more. It was like when he was six, afraid of the monster under the bed.
Maybe he could stay up until it was time for work.
He stirred awake at the sound of a door opening. He bolted upright, eyes searching the room in fright. Suddenly, he heard his fridge opening and jumped off the couch, looking at the kitchen area. Spike was there, his back to him. Xander swallowed hard, gazing at his vamp-roomie. Spike turned around with a mug and before he got a sip, he caught the sight of Xander watching him.
Xander swallowed a lump in his throat. "You're awake?" he blurted out.
"Just drinking some blood."
"Uh huh." Taking a few breaths to calm himself down. Spike resumed drinking his blood in indifference. Man, he knew that the incident earlier was nothing more than a nightmare. Spike had been in his room, sleeping like the dead. Unless… he was pretending to sleep like the dead because he was dead and he didn't need the whole even breathing thing that usually ruined sleep-pretending plans. So he was still rolling on the idea of homicidal Spike in his head. But what if it was really a nightmare? Then he would be pulling a Shaggy with a final degree on pathetic.
He watched Spike trailing a finger around the inside of his mug to catch the last of the sticky red fluid. It was hard trying to act cool. He was seriously freaking out and he had to make peace with his fretting mind. "You didn't happen to have…" he started nervously, Spike looked at him, "Stopped by my room… earlier tonight?"
"Why would I do that?" the answer was very quiet, very casual, very… indifferent.
"Right." He ran a sweaty palm over his hair. "So, uh, look at the time… one hour before I head for work. Gotta take a shower. Get my suit… wear my silk tie… silk ties work well with suits. They get the promotions hopping, you know?"
No nod of acknowledgement, no snippy remark, not even a disgusted look. Spike just casually went to the sink to wash his bloody mug –like Xander would even consider drinking from that again.
Xander nodded and moved toward his room, a little sulky. Closing the door behind him, he was struck by the fact that he was in his room. Eyes warily searched over the room. He shivered in disgust. It was a nightmare- of the horror flick type. No need to make a fuss. He thought about hunting for his formalwear, but something was still nagging at his brain. He quickly opened the door and faced the kitchen area where Spike was placing the mug in the cupboard.
"You know, pal, you're just jealous of my Armani tie," he snapped. "Oh, and by the way, keep the mug."
Spike frowned, about to say something, but then Xander hurriedly closed the door. There. A reaction. All he wanted was a reaction.
He could barely drag his feet into his apartment. From work to checking in with his friends to running by Anya- which was never of the good these days- to almost getting hit by a drunk teen driving a truck… it was his turn to get drunk.
He went for the cupboard and brought out a bottle of whiskey. It was after Spike started living with him that he started to appreciate good whiskey, he had been mostly a beer person.
Spike. He glanced at what used to be his empty closet. That whole Spike nightmare was still fresh in his mind. He couldn't forget the eyes that loomed at him. The way Spike slowly moved toward him like he didn't need to move any faster because in the end he would get what he wanted. And making Xander food was defiantly on his to-do list. The only thing keeping Xander sane was the comforting thought of the chip. Without it, Xander wasn't sure he'd live to see this day. Then again, without the chip, Xander wouldn't have had Spike as an unwanted guest in the first place.
Suddenly, he felt a quick movement behind him and then something jagged hit him on the head. Everything went black right after that.
The aching ropes that firmly held his wrists were the first thing he felt when he woke up. He could feel his wrists and ankles tightly held in place and the ability to move was out. The ropes bruised his skin at every desperate shift. When the pain became more pronounced he stopped wriggling and lay still… on a bed. He wasn't sure if it was his own bed, but a man could still wish, especially when a tingle of air brushed lightly on his thighs and stomach. His bare thighs and stomach.
He was tied up, naked, on a bed he couldn't tell if it was his or not. It was all about the feeling. He couldn't see his situation because as wide as he opened his eyes, black was all he could see. He was blindfolded by some soft material. Silky, soft material… his silk tie apparently. He shivered when a touch of air danced around his naked body some more… and right at that moment, fear started creeping down his spine.
When the sense of sight was absent, all he could do was rely on his other senses. There was no significant smell. The only feelings around were itchy ropes, silky blindfolds, a soft mattress. As for the sense of hearing, behold the sounds of silence. He wanted to scream for help but feared it would attract trouble his way. Well, attract it faster, anyway. Because nothing about this situation said safe unless it was another sex game from Anya, and a sex game with Anya would mean that all events after his non-wedding were a long, horrible nightmare. If only.
"Well, well," the familiar mocking voice startled him. "Look at you all spread out for me. Naked. Vulnerable. So easy to hurt."
His heart started beating fast. His throat felt dry and he couldn't form a word. Buffy was proven wrong. Buffy was proven so fucking wrong.
"S-Spike?" he stuttered. He was right all along, all those times, he was right, but would Buffy listen? Noooo. In the end he was the one to pay for her not listening to him.
"Got that right," it had been awhile since he heard that smug tone. It was never really missed, not that he ever missed the one using it. "How does it feel like?" Spike went on.
"W-what?" He hated that he kept stuttering. Even though he was in a horrific situation, he wanted to hold on to that last string of dignity he still had.
There was a long silence and Xander thought Spike had left the room. He still felt the slow prickle of fear that raised every hair on the back of his neck. Then he felt a ghostly finger trace the line up his thigh before fingers joined to touch the area around Xander's shaft. He jolted violently, but the firm hold on his limbs disabled him from moving at all. The light touching of his naked body went on, and then Xander realized what Spike meant. Humiliation. Spike wanted to humiliate him. That pathetic bastard.
He was touching his… his… shit! What the hell? Spike's hand stroked his penis randomly and then it hit Xander that humiliation didn't only involve naughty touching, but rape. Sick, sick raping with the tying up and the case of silk-tie blindfolding. He tried to desperately free himself, but his attempts were useless. When all tries failed, Xander reserved to the only effective weapon he knew that never failed him all these years.
"Gonna bring on the monster-still action, your Soulfulness? Good thing the ability of seeing and moving won't stop me from enjoying your roars of pain."
"Only one getting roars of pain is you, Twit."
"Riiight," he drawled. "And I suppose you're forgetting the one thing that can mess up your twisted plan. I don't know, a little piece of metal in your skull?"
There was a scary silence that lasted a few minutes until the dreadful smug voice returned, "That's not a problem, anymore."
He felt his blood turn ice at these words. It was like he literally froze. He always saw this day coming, always knew the aftermath and yet played naïve. It didn't matter how many times he warned Buffy and the others, it didn't matter how many times he pointed out facts, thing was he never did anything about it. It was time to get bitten on the ass.
"How?" His ears didn't even hear it.
There was no answer. His muscles tensed when the set of hands touched his naked body again. The more they touched and fondled the more he wondered about the possibility of dying from mortification. His lips formed in a thin line and his fists shook in anger. He wished for torture, biting, death but not for this. This was much worse.
He could hear Spike humming while he kept touching him. The whole naughty touching and song humming act was giving freaky vibes to Xander's non-functional brain. This was probably the number one moment on his list of humiliations. It was like he was a stallion in some British animal shopping place with some rich Englishman examining him for good use. Great. Now he was having sexual fantasies.
He knew how it would end. But he wouldn't beg or cry, never give the bastard the satisfaction of breaking him. He'd be strong, even if it cost him his life, which in this case was a definite possibility.
It went on like forever… to the point where Xander was taking a little bit interest to the light, butterfly touches. He bit his lower lip in a desperate attempt to get his penis less interested in the stupid touching. It had never worked when he used to be a horny teenager with rushing hormones and right now it turned out that rushing hormones had nothing to do with it not working. Could this get any worse? Spike's mocking little snicker made Xander's blood boil.
"Get on with it already!" he snapped. "You wanna rape me? Do it. Do it, you sick twisted freak. Do it!" And then the tears of shame and anger started to form. He was begging Spike to rape him. This was the worst scenario he had ever lived through during a life of regular humiliations.
He could feel the right side of the bed bend as someone, obviously Spike, climbed on. Spike sat on the lower part of Xander's stomach. He grimaced in disgust when Spike leaned over him and inhaled deeply. "Always get your bloody knickers in a twist," a cruel whisper to his ear. "I'll give you a good seeing to."
A few daunting seconds passed before he felt a set of sharp teeth sliding like needles into his flesh, not his neck… but at the skin surrounding his nipple. Xander screamed in agony. As it was, tears rushed into his eyes and the pain made his brain shut down. He rocked on the bed violently, his head swinging from right to left while Spike sucked blood from one of the most sensitive spots on his body. Spike's tongue played with the tip of Xander's nipple but that didn't help ease up the pain of having his blood being pulled out from his body.
The fangs pulled away roughly, Xander's flesh tore with the sudden act. He almost thought his nipple was ripped off from his chest. Tears fell down like rivers and his dull ears heard the evil chuckle that was followed by another dose of sharp pain in the area surrounding his other nipple. Blades of sharp teeth slid into his skin, ripping and tearing at the flesh right above his left nipple. He cried out at the pain, throwing his head back.
"God, stop!" he screamed in misery. He screamed the loudest he could, not only out of hope that someone would hear him, but more because screaming helped him focus on something other than the awful pain.
The evil chuckle didn't stop as blood was sucked out of his body. Spike's hands pulled hard on his penis and balls. The pain and mortification ran cold down his torso and he wished he'd drop dead at this instant. He'd die like a pathetic coward with no pride but at least the pain and humiliation would stop. He just wanted the laughing to stop. The torture on his upper body was enough without the scornful chuckles.
The fangs snatched some of his flesh as they pulled out sharply, leaving Xander to cry out in agony. His throat was raw when he finally stopped howling. He shuddered a few breaths before he gritted, "Buffy's gonna kill you for this, you fuck!"
Spike had the sarcastic remark ready but Xander didn't hear it. The pain was too definite that the remark sounded far away. He could feel the naughty touching again along with the humming and he couldn't stand it emotionally and physically.
He was starting to get a little dizzy, which was probably from blood-loss. His hands were getting numb from the tight ropes. He lost the will to struggle, leaving Spike's hands touching him in inappropriate places, feeling more and more like a cheap toy to be played with. He could feel the area around his nipples leaking blood, the worry that he would die from blood loss increased as hope for any rescue mission from Buffy lessened. He already stopped praying for Buffy to pass by for another checking out on Spike visit.
A piece of cloth hit his face followed by sounds of clothes thrown around. It was time to get raped apparently. Spike was murmuring some song he didn't recognize before his Spike bits were seated on Xander's bits. He tried to breathe but the panic attack and the fabric on his face made it harder. He tried to suck more air into his lungs but ended up coughing hard. He shook his head around until the material on his face fell to his right side. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself, hearing Spike sing in amusement.
Then a cool, rough tongue hungrily licked his chest, mainly the injured spots at first, but then the tongue traveled up toward the soft spot between his neck and shoulder. He sucked on his breath, especially as he felt bumps pressing up on his skin. He was going to get neck-bit… for the very first time. Would it hurt more than the bites around his nipples?
His stomach recoiled as he was close to vomiting. He waited for the foul taste to reach his mouth and wished the vomiting would shoot at the bastard's face, who was still singing that stupid tune.
Xander shook in frustration. "Quit it! Do you always sing when you have sex?"
Suddenly his bed rocked hard, Spike's nails sunk into his skin. Xander howled in pain, there was laughter, cruel laughter, and there was sad moaning going along with Xander's screams. He inhaled and exhaled in more attempts to get the calming thing going and his poor brain that gave up all together on functioning tried to get one thing straight.
The sound of anguish moaning was very clear and it sure wasn't Xander's. The laughing was there as well and it was Spike's. Was there someone else in the room? A human-food Spike kept around to enjoy while he watched the new episode of Torture the Xander? He could expect anything from Spike at the moment. After being disabled for three years, he sure had time for creativity new torturing techniques. And nothing hurt Xander more than humiliation, which was funny since he had a lot of practice in that area.
"Spi…"
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Xander quickly closed his mouth shut, trembling. He hated being scared of Spike, but he really was. Scared of Spike. Long time since he felt that way. Spike knew a lot about him by now, so it wouldn't be that hard to torture Xander with all his insecurities and worse yet… hurting and killing the people he cared about in front of him as he watched. This was the first time he wished that Spike truly loved Buffy. If he really was, Xander wouldn't be in this pathetic position to begin with.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up."
The shut ups went on going parallels with the shouting inside Xander's. Shut out. Shut out. Shut out. The touching, the licking, the biting, the humming… all wouldn't matter if Xander would just shut out. Think of something distracting. Sitting in the Summers' living room with Buffy and Dawn, watching a movie and eating popcorn. Going to a fancy restaurant with Anya. Trying to act clever when Willow and Giles spoke the language of books.
Spike's dumb song drifted to his ears again, he focused on the words hoping it would take his mind off the harsh reality. "Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a fair maid sing in the valley down below." Then suddenly the moaning above him stopped and the naughty touching was back. Xander heaved a sigh, feeling his brows furrow in thought.
"Oh, don't deceive me, oh, never leave me. How could you use a poor maid?"
Spike's voice was far. Really far. It accord to him that Spike's shut ups earlier from the loud ones to the murmurs sounded more distress than commanding. He let out a shivering sigh. Was that a sick game? Was Spike playing with his mind? That was the logical explanation. But as the song went on, and the sniffing was around his neck, he could feel a set of closed lips kissing his shoulder.
He moved his head toward the head next to him, his cheek feeling the bone in Spike's cheek. He nuzzled Spike's cheek gently until his nose felt the straps of gelled head. The song went on and Spike's lips kept kissing Xander's neck.
Okay, so he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't that stupid.
"Spike?" he whispered to the head next to him. His head gently nudged the angled cheek. "Spike, answer me."
"What?" the far away voice asked.
"I'm not talking to you."
A mocking chuckle. "Lost your mind, mate? 'Couse the only Spike here is me last I checked."
Xander desperately nudged the face next to him harder. "Spike, wake up now."
"Hmmm, guess Spike's getting bit bored here. How about we get to the fun part?"
Suddenly Xander felt Spike's fangs on his shoulder.
"Spike!" he yelled to the ear next to him. "Listen to me, you don't wanna do this," considering his words, he corrected, "Or you probably do, but not tonight. You're being hocus-pocused. And, sure, you're a slow, crazy idiot, but my guts tells me you're strong enough to defeat this thing."
"Shut your yap, tosser!" the far away Spike voice roared. The long fangs were testing his neck while the hands pinched hard at his injured nipples. Whimpering in pain, Xander went on, "S-Spike, c'mon… you got your soul, idiot! Someone with that will power won't be fooled by a stupid demon."
Sharp teeth sunk into his skin and Xander's raw throat let out a sharp scream. The sounds of laughter rang stronger now into his ears. Moved by that small glimpse of false hope, he thought he'd better use what was left of his voice for some useful rambling.
"Spike! Spike! Think of Buffy, Buffy, yeah? A vamped out Xander would hurt her. You don't wanna hurt her, Spike! You love her. The soul's for her, isn't it? Stop! Stop!"
His skin was ripped off as fangs pulled out harshly. A piercing howl came from the figure on top of him and suddenly the silk tie was snatched from his eyes. Light sprung so bright almost blinding his gaze. He snapped his eyes shut for a little bit and once he opened them, his vision was a little fuzzy. There were hazy shapes of a figure in front of him. A very howl-y figure snapped the ropes off his numb wrists and then ankles.
"Get out of my head!" a shout from the real Spike who withdrew in fright, falling off the bed and crawling in fear to the corner.
Xander lay down his head on the pillow, groaning in pain and feeling the blood rush from his shoulder and nipples. His breath was ragged, his throat hoarse from screaming and the sweat was pouring off him in bucket loads. His numb hands and feet lay just where they were without moving. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was in his room. It was dark except for the side lamp that was still blinding his tired eyes. He weakly moved his hand and turned it off, leaving the room in complete darkness. He looked around but no one was there, just him and a sobbing vampire right at the corner. Spike was crouched down with his knees pulled up tight against his chest, and he was pressing himself against the wall as if he wanted to crawl inside it.
He groaned again trying to sit, his limps barely helping him. His eyes landed on his expensive silk tie, just lying there next to Spike's pants. He looked with difficulty back at Spike.
"Spike," he said to the scared vampire. "Stop whatever you're doing and call Buffy's cell." Spike kept rocking and murmuring incomprehensible words as if he didn't hear a word Xander said. "Spike, please, I can't move and I'm losing so much blood."
"There," Spike whimpered looking at the spot behind Xander. "He's there."
Heart still thumbing crazy from the events of the night, Xander dreaded to look back. He took a shuddering breath before he slowly turned his head. There was no one behind him. He didn't even sigh in relief when he looked back at Spike in anger. "Spike, stop it with the crazy for one minute, would you? I'm losing a lot of blood!"
"He's here," Spike sobbed, covering his eyes.
"Who's he?"
Scared eyes looked at him. "Me."
Xander looked at Spike's frightened eyes, uncomfortable. He knew there was some demon ghost here, who sounded just like Spike, who was able to control Spike. He wasn't sure why this demon was after him, unless Anya's vengeance wish on him was delivered late, there was nothing special about Xander except for extra more meat to chew.
"Why can't I see the demon, Spike?" he asked, tired from blood-loss. "I heard his voice earlier, why can't I see him now?"
Spike didn't answer him. He just hid his face again on his knees and whimpered meaningless words. Xander gave a suffering sigh and threw himself to the floor. Sometimes the only way to get things done was by doing them yourself. He crawled with difficulty toward the shivering vampire. "Spike, it's okay, it's gone, whatever it was."
Spike looked at him and Xander forced a reassuring smile. "There you go, now would…" his words were muffled by Spike's lips crushing onto his own. His eyes snapped wide as he fell back with Spike on top of him, devouring his mouth. He considered pushing the freaky vampire off him, when he realized that Spike kissed in desperate need for contact, his arms going around Xander, pulling him close. While the whole thing was disturbing, Xander just let Spike feel safe. He closed his eyes feeling the body of a man touching him in a way he never felt before. Even earlier the touching was more for humiliation, now it was just the need to feel something real. Naked bodies were rubbing against each other. Bleeding shoulder and nipples were still… bleeding.
Xander broke off the kiss, looking at a confused Spike weakly. "This kissing and groping thing is nice and all but I'm in a serious case of passing out, if you know what I mean." He looked miserably at his bleeding chest. He couldn't even see his nipples with blood pouring out messily from them.
That when he was picked up by a quiet Spike. The movement was so sudden his arms wrapped around Spike's neck in a reflex. Spike walked calmly to the bathroom and sat Xander on the toilet seat. He watched Spike looking around for the first aid kit. "It's in the first drawer next to the basin," he instructed, fighting the urge to close his eyes from pain. He had enough of hearing people's movement without seeing.
Spike started cleaning his wounds and patching them up. Xander watched him in complete amazement. Spike had saved his life a few times in the past, but he had never seen this gentle side of him before. Maybe the soul did change him. When Spike looked up at him, he smiled. "Thanks."
Spike nodded before his eyes went back to Xander's chest. At first he thought Spike just focused on cleaning the wound, but now he realized Spike was avoiding his gaze. He was probably embarrassed of his breaking down fest and the kissing fest. "About…" Spike started prickly.
"I know," Xander cut him off gently, allowing him to keep what was left of his dignity, which would have worked fine if they both weren't naked, with manly bits dangling. He flushed, looking at the ceiling, focusing on Spike's 'dignity' and how to save it. "I think I needed it, too," he added.
Spike's hands left his chest. He looked back at the vampire to find him glaring at him. "Don't need your soddin' pity, Harris," an angry hiss before Spike went back to work.
It was hard though… to look at a trembling and shivering Spike and not feel sympathy. Xander stood by the door to Spike's room, watching the shaking vampire lying asleep on bed whimpering throughout the night.
Xander had told Buffy about the evil ghost haunting Spike, leaving out the parts about naked torture. She had suggested that Spike should move into her basement so she could watch him carefully. Xander refused, claiming that it would be dangerous for Dawn. It took him a lot of effort to convince Buffy to keep Spike in his apartment especially after he promised he'd use handcuffs to tie Spike to bed. He figured if he had told her about the torture, she wouldn't even consider discussing Spike's stay with him and would drag the vampire outside his apartment in a less than a second.
He remembered when she expressed her confusion about Xander's new found empathy for Spike earlier, even though she seemed pleased by it. He wondered if it was only sympathy what he felt about Spike. However, he didn't dwell on it much. He just stared at Spike, trembling, whimpering, scared.
He found himself walking toward him, sitting next to Spike's back. His hand rested on Spike's shaking upper arm and smoothly started to move up and down in a comforting gesture. It seemed to work a little, Spike's body didn't stop shaking but it started to ease a little.
As Xander comforted the distressed vampire, he knew he didn't need to look at the door to see it was standing there. Watching them. All black except for the gleaming eyes. Cold shivers ran down his spine, and he tried to calm himself, because his hand stroked the real torso.
Curiously took over him and he didn't flinch when he found it standing there. It wasn't moving, or talking, or singing, just standing there, locking eyes with Xander. He kept running his hand down the trembling body, reassuring himself with the sense of touch while his eyes looked straight at the ones of the devil.
The End.
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Date: 2007-05-29 03:56 pm (UTC)Your friendly Mod here, reminding you this is a genfic site - so no pairings.
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Date: 2007-05-29 04:12 pm (UTC)