Living Arrangements

By Taltos

Chapter Ten

"Well, pretty soon we're going to be able to start our own club. Vampires with souls."

I feel the anger rise in me as my eyes pin him to the spot he's standing in. He jerks his eyes from mine as he grabs the bag Buffy's holding and goes to the kitchen. Buffy, Willow and I stand in silence, my anger at Spike radiating out to encompass them.

When he returns he's holding two mugs of blood. He hands me one silently. My disgust is soon replaced by a driving hunger. After downing the first one he hands me the second. When both are empty he returns to the kitchen followed by Willow.

Buffy approaches me and lays her hand on my arm.

"How do you feel?"

She's kidding right.

"How do I feel? I feel like a fucking vampire, how did you expect me to feel."

I see the tears gather in her eyes and I harden my heart against her.

"Oh Xander-"

"Save it. You could have stopped him."

"She tried, she failed."

My head whips around at the sound of his voice. For a split second I feel the love and need I have for him well up and almost spill over. I push it down, stuff it down behind the anger.

"You want to be angry fine, but be angry with the right person. Hate the right person."

I see his hands shake as he hands me two more mugs of blood. Once again I feel need swell within me. His body and his blood call to me making it almost impossible to resist. I grit my teeth determined to hold onto my feelings of betrayal. I bring one of the mugs to my lips and drink. After a few swallows I notice something off about the taste. Instinctively I know he's laced the blood Buffy brought with his own.

Staring him down I see the truth in his eyes and the proof from the fresh wound on his wrist. I stalk past him to the kitchen to pour the contents down the drain. When I reach the sink his voice stops me.

"No."

I stop dead, mug poised over the drain. The pull of his voice doesn't allow any leeway.

"Drink it."

Without conscious thought my arm comes up and before I realize it both mugs are empty. I let the mugs slip from my fingers before turning on him.

"You bastard."

"Yeah, tell me something new. You needed my blood and I knew you wouldn't take it from me voluntarily."

"Don't you ever do that to me again."

We stare silently at one another for what seems like hours. He opens his mouth but I beat him to it.

"Why Spike, you knew how I felt."

"I didn't want to let you go. I was selfish and I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? What the hell good does that do me? Is it supposed to make me feel better?"

I start pacing the length of the kitchen, the aggression within me almost palpable. Soon the kitchen is too small and I need a larger space. I brush past him and stomp into the living room. Buffy and Willow are sitting together on the couch with anxious looks.

I can smell the sorrow and regret pouring off them in waves. Regret that they didn't try harder to stop him. I can't blame them really. I try, but it doesn't come. All my anger is tied up with Spike. They did the only thing they could, restore my soul, for all the good it's done me. I don't want this, with or without the soul. I don't want to live forever. I don't want to live like this.

Willow is the first to speak.

"Xander, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I stare at my best friend. I've loved her my whole life in one way or another and I can't muster anything other than gratitude that she didn't allow me to become a killer. I sit next to her on the couch and the flinch I was expecting doesn't come. Her arms come around me and I feel the wetness of her tears on my neck. I hold her gently in my arms.

I look at Spike over her shoulder, my resentment at him for causing her pain radiating from my eyes. He can't hold my gaze and I feel a small thrill at his guilt. I see Buffy's head ping pong between us, her sympathy for him warring with her sympathy for me. I release Willow with a kiss to her hair. I reach out and squeeze Buffy's hand trying to convey my apology for snapping at her earlier.

"Xander there are things you need to-"

I cut off his soft voice with the harshness of mine.

"Not from you. I didn't want this, I never wanted to be a freak. I don't need anything else from you."

I hear Willow's softly indrawn breath, I see the brief flash of pain cross his face before his body draws tight and an indifferent mask drops into place.

"Right, got it."

He grabs his duster and heads for the door. At the sight of his tense back I briefly regret what I said. Watching him leave I feel a pull deep inside nagging me to follow. Telling me to stop him, that I don't want him to go. I force it away and tamp it down into recesses that I'll never access.

As the door slams Willow is on her feet clutching my arm.

"Xander, don't do this."

"He turned me into a monster Will, how you can forgive him? But you fixed me, my sweet Willow fixed me, thank you."

"No. It was Spike. The soul was Spike's idea. He told me to come, to fix it without the clause and bring it. I-I don't know if I would have thought about it, but he did."

I feel a sting down my spine followed again by the instinct to chase after him. I won't, I can't.

"It doesn't matter, it's over."

Suddenly I'm tired, more tired than I can ever remember being. I scrub my hand over my face. I just want to go to bed and sink into oblivion.

"I'm gonna sleep, I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."

After several rounds of hugs they both start for the door, before Buffy is completely out she turns back to me.

"He loves you."

Her quietly spoken words do nothing to ease the ache that's beginning to form in my chest. I say nothing, just watch as she silently closes the door behind her.

I fall into bed and feel the blessed blackness of sleep coming to claim me.

 

Continue