Musical Wars
Chapter 7
"Are you sure this is a spell?" Xander asked as he looked at the computer screen. The dark-haired woman in front of the computer just smiled. Willow, however, seemed to be in high babble gear since leaving the dorm room.
"Jenny's a cyber-wicca. This one time a hunter was hunting Oz just because he does the whole werewolf thing, and Jenny created this computer program that tracked him using a satellite image connected to a tracking spell, and I bet she's doing something just like that now." Willow paced between the stairs leading up to the second floor and the kitchen door. Since Jenny had her computer set up on the dining room table, the path left Willow sort of circling them.
Xander leaned back against the window sill, feeling the warmth against his back even as Baby flinched away from the light. Right now, Xander appreciated anything that could force Baby into the recesses since he wasn't doing a great job staying in control. With his luck, he would go all glowy eyed in the home of a watcher and his cyber-wicca wife with a slayer upstairs. Xander flinched as he regretted even thinking that thought. Baby growled.
"This is similar," Jenny agreed. "I'm using a topographical map to indicate William's location, so it's a fairly standard spell only slightly modified for the computer."
"See? If Jenny can't find William, then no one... and I'm not going to finish that because that so does not need finishing. Maybe I should just stop now, you know, a closed mouth gathers no feet and all." Willow blushed deep red, and Xander was caught between terror that the worst might have happened and sympathy for Willow--the only person who could out-babble him. He ended up not saying anything as Willow sort of slid sideways though a swinging door, disappearing into a kitchen that appeared in flashes as the door clattered shut.
"She's upset," Jenny said as she typed so fast that the clicks seemed to become a chant of their own.
"Yeah, kinda getting that. I just wished..." Xander stopped. He didn't know what he wished. Part of him felt guilty for never calling her back and supporting her through the weirdness, but another part didn't really know this girl who had squished her best friend. And then add the demon's frustration and fear and almost unwilling respect for Willow's power into the mix and Xander had way too many parts going.
"Life is change," Jenny offered ambiguously. "Okay, here we go." She hit the 'enter' key with a flourish, and the whole computer screen glowed ominously red. Xander leaned forward to get a better look as the white lines of streets and shaded parks slowly faded back to a normal blue.
"Huh."
"Huh?" Willow asked as she stuck her head back out of the door. "What's huh?"
Xander just sat, his fingers gripping the window sill.
"Maybe it's a masking spell," Jenny commented, pushing her black hair back away from her face as she considered the unglowy screen. Her fingers danced over the keys.
"Shouldn't there be something glowing or flashing or doing some magicy?" Xander asked as the two witches considered the computer.
"Someone might be doing the anti-magic type magic, but Jenny is way ahead of them," Willow promised. Xander would have been more reassured if Willow hadn't had the funny wrinkle at the top of her nose.
"Okay, here we go." Jenny stood up and gathered three candles from a buffet against one wall, its carved doors reminding Xander of the Catholic Church back in his old neighborhood. Baby growled, but Xander just ignored the noise since not even he could tell whether impatience or just a general hatred for anything church-like had made Baby grouchy. Hell, he wanted to growl in frustration, but he could only watch as Jenny set the thick candles in the middle of the large oak table in a triangle around her computer.
"Will you help me with a opprimo spell?" Jenny asked, and Willow ducked her head for a moment, pausing before she stepped forward and took Jenny's hand. Xander just gritted his teeth and reminded himself that telling them to hurry wouldn't actually help. God knows he never took out the garbage faster when his mom bugged him.
The candles flared to life, and Xander jumped back, banging his head on the window in surprise. The girls just continued to chant, their voices pulling at him like little pricking pains as the computer glowed white.
Jenny shouted something that sounded like 'fat girl,' and the screen flared like the world's biggest flash bomb. When Xander finally pried his eyes open again, the Jenny and Willow stared at the still unglowy screen in dismay.
Xander didn't even want to ask. He stepped forward to the computer, the three candles now mounds of wax spreading over the wood.
"So, what's the next step?" he asked, refusing to even name the worry worm that inched through his brain.
"Xander," Willow sighed.
"I mean, Gunn and William were both the hit someone until they gave up information, so if the magic isn't going to work, we just need to find—"
Xander stopped when Jenny's warm hand rested on his forearm. Xander just tightened his arms around his own stomach as he slowly shook his head in denial.
"Are you sure the hair came from William?"
Xander couldn't stop shaking his head even though he was sure.
"God, I'm so sorry. Xander. I…" Willow stumbled to silence as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on one of his arm. Xander just continued to shake his head.
"No."
"I know how hard it is to lose someone," Jenny offered gently.
"No. I haven't lost William. He can't just die," Xander snapped as he stepped back. Willow's hand flew to the table as she lost her balance.
"I know—"
"You don't know!" Xander yelled as Willow tried to step forward. He turned his back to the two women and grabbed the banister to the stairs.
"Problem?" another woman's voice asked from above. Baby rose with a roar, and Xander dropped to his knees as the world spun slightly counter-clockwise.
"Xander!" Willow gasped and warm hands touched his back. Xander shoved at the hands touching him and stumbled to his feet when he contacted warm skin that made his body shiver with revulsion. Slayer.
"Whoa there," Faith said, and strong fingers grabbed at him. Half-blind, Xander lurched back several steps, his shoulder finding the front door. Xander's hand closed around the door knob before he had even checked in with his body.
Yanking it open, Xander struggled through the shade of the porch, throwing himself into the closest patch of sunlight. Falling to his knees, he turned his face to the light and let the tears roll down his face.
Hours later, Xander couldn’t really bring himself to care about anything as he huddled on the end of the couch in the basement of the Watcher's house. His demon whined in pain, and Xander had nothing to use to comfort the soft wails in his mind. The whole ‘throwing himself in the sunlight’ plan hadn’t worked exactly the way the demon had intended, but Xander could appreciate the thought.
Life without Spike and he couldn’t seem to see a way out of it. Go home to his mother, yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Find a normal job and just suffer this horrible gaping hole in his soul for the rest of his life, well he didn’t really see any other choice. Xander could hear voices, but he simply curled himself about his demon and tried to sleep, tried to reach some place where he could forget the pain.
Xander could feel Spike’s cool hand slipping around his waist as his sire pressed up against his back. He knew that it was a dream, but he didn’t want to leave this fantasy of happiness, the closest thing he would ever again have to true happiness. He felt ghostly lips breathe across his ear, whispering ‘childe’ in a possessive voice that made his spine tingle with expectation. He squirmed, faintly aware of the couch, but trying his best to throw himself into his dream of his lost sire.
“Xander,” a voice whispered, and he tried to pretend that he could hear an English accent, but the concerned tone of Willow’s voice broke through even as he struggled to ignore it. “Xander, you’re really worrying me,” she continued, and Xander’s dream sire shifted away into the smoke from which he had been formed, leaving Xander alone again. He whimpered and stirred slightly.
“Xander, you know, impersonating the dead isn’t exactly safe around here.” The friendly teasing didn't even stir Baby, and Xander just pulled into himself, struggling to not fully wake. However, a hand on his shoulder sent him flying off the couch and left him standing next to the wall. Faith sat on the edge of the couch, her hand still suspended in the air where Xander's shoulder had been milliseconds earlier. Willow stood next to the narrow stairs that led up to the main house, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. For a moment, Xander just stared back, words not even forming in his mind even as he realized he had to cover for his own weirdness. Xander could hear Spike whispering about enemies and weakness.
He opened his mouth a second or two before he could find words that would make any sense at all. “God, don’t wake me up like that.” He tried for a laugh, but from the expressions on Faith and Willow's faces, he hadn't come even close.
“God, chill little man, everything’s five by five,” Faith said as she held her hands up in surrender, but Xander couldn’t escape the feeling of wrongness that he got every time he was around the slayer, and he couldn’t help but suspect that they could feel the wrongness in him.
“Yeah, not so okay with the ‘little man’ comments,” Xander complained, anxious to discuss anything other than the gaping hole in his heart and the demon that threatened to break free.
“Angel’s here, upstairs,” Willow said from the place near the basement stairs, and Xander knew he must have shown some sort of reaction because the two girls exchanged looks, but for the life of him, Xander really didn’t know what he was feeling.
His demon both railed against the thought of the older vampire because sire would disapprove and at the same time he wanted to be near him. For Xander’s part, he had nothing particular against Angel except of course for driving Dru insane and for abandoning Spike and the whole trying to take him away from Spike back in Los Angeles. Okay, so he didn’t hold much against him.
“I’ll go get him, just to be sure he still has that soul tacked on good and tight,” Faith said with a final look toward Willow. When the dark-haired Slayer had left, Xander returned to the couch and curled up again. Pathetic much? he asked himself as he realized what a sight he must make.
“Xander, I’m really sorry I couldn’t help you with William. When I called Angel, he said you two were really, really close.”
“Why’d you call him?” Xander asked dully, not really caring whether or not Willow approved of his relationships. He suspected that the whole sire/childe thing would probably shock her a whole lot more than the gay thing ever could.
“You called for him, remember?” Willow asked, and Xander looked over into her wide, concerned eyes and realized that she was telling the truth. Xander cast back into his memories, but he couldn’t remember calling out, and his demon didn’t fess up. “Do you want me to keep him away?” Willow asked. “’Cause he offered to come the minute I mentioned you. You never said you guys were that close.”
“We weren’t,” a deep voice from the stairs answered, and Xander shivered at the sound. His sire’s sire. Xander pushed himself up so that he sat on the couch and wrapped his arms around his stomach. An unbalanced queasiness in his stomach suggested laying down would be of the good, but Xander welcomed the nausea's ability to distract him just a little from the ripping pain. He kept looking down to see if some demon had slipped in and torn his belly open when he wasn't paying attention. Each time he saw the shirt Spike had picked for him, its buttons still in a neat little row down his middle, he was surprised. It didn't seem right to hurt this much without having huge gaping holes somewhere.
“Oh, you’re here. I thought Faith was going to keep you…I mean talk to you upstairs.”
“She talked, I listened.” Angel's voice carried no emotion as he stepped down the last few steps into the basement. Xander could feel Angel approach as though it were a high pressure front pressing against his skin.
“I’m not sure Xander’s really ready to talk,” Willow said as she stood up, placing herself between the two of them, and Xander looked up for the first time. He met Angel’s eyes, and at the intense stare, he dropped his own gaze. “He’s in a no talking kind of mood, which is kind of strange for Xander because talking was always his thing.” Willow continued.
“We’ll be fine, Willow. I just need some time alone with Xander.” Xander shivered again at the voice, and he could almost feel Willow’s doubt like a small animal circling the room.
“Xander, is that what you want?” Willow asked, and Xander looked up into her elfin face, amazed at how little it had changed in the years. He suddenly had no doubt that if he asked her, she would throw herself between them. Okay, she'd get neatly tossed to one side if push came to shove, but she'd try.
“It’s okay, Willow.” Xander whispered instead even though ‘okay’ didn’t begin to cover it. Willow lay her hand on his arm for just a minute before she left, disappearing up the stairs and leaving him alone with Angel.
God, Spike would stripe his back if he ever found out, but then that wasn’t likely to happen, was it? Xander closed his eyes as a new wave of grief tore through him, and he found himself wishing that death were as easy as throwing himself into the sunlight. Of course, tall and broody making with the silence wasn’t exactly helping. His demon had reached a near constant wail, and the headache threatened to make his head pop. He lowered his head to until he had hunched over and could rest his forehead on his knees. It was like his head had grown too heavy for his neck and might just fall off.
“Xander,” Angel finally said softly as he stepped closer. Xander forced himself to sit still when every instinct in him told himself to either run or throw himself at Angel’s feet. He didn’t think either option would win him any manly awards, so he just sat and shivered.
“I’m sorry,” Angel offered.
“We could try to excise the spirit,” Angel offered, but his tone was doubtful bordering on incredulous, so Xander didn’t bother to answer. They both knew that his demon wouldn’t be cast out by a spell designed for the weak, fraction of a demon inserted into a pet. Silence fell again.
Bent over, Xander could smell Spike lingering the pants, a faint trace of leather that made the jeans smell somehow warm. Normally Xander would love the scent, but now a pressure built in his chest until he couldn't breathe. He sat up and gulped air.
“Xander,” Angel stepped forward, and Xander threw himself off the couch for the second time in five minutes, only this time he allowed the demon to come up, the room sliding into the crystal sharpness of the demon’s vision and his teeth elongating even as he snarled.
Angel’s reaction was instantaneous as the larger vampire showed his own game face and stepped forward. “Enough, boy,” Angel snarled, and Xander backed away, snarling his own wordless reply. Xander made a break for the stairs, but a heavy body slammed him into the wall, and he found himself trapped, face first against the concrete even as he struggled to free himself.
“I said enough, boy,” Angel snapped and Xander felt an arm close around his neck, pulling him back into Angel’s body. “Willow told me you ran outside into the sun and just stared up. She didn’t know what it meant, but I do. Are you so determined to follow your sire, then?” Angel’s voice had become soft, almost lilting, but the arm remained firmly locked around his neck, no matter how he struggled.
“Let go,” Xander demanded.
“Why? So you can kill yourself? That is what you tried to do, isn’t it? Is the demon that much in control now?” Xander stopped struggling as he realized that he had no hope of freeing himself.
“Doesn’t matter,” he honestly replied.
“It does matter,” Angel insisted, and Xander felt himself pushed toward the couch. He caught himself on the sofa's arm and turned to face Angel, but he found the vampire inches from him, staring down at him, and he sat since that was the only way to get some physical distance between them.
“You aren’t the kind to give up, so why are you letting the demon rule you?” Angel asked as he hovered above, his hands away from his body in a clear fighting stance that let Xander know that he wasn’t going to be allowed off the couch.
Xander just shook his head and remained silent, keeping his pain and weakness to himself. Instead of the disgust he expected from Angel, he felt a hand on his head.
“Spike gave ye a taste for something and then left you to suffer,” Angel said in a lilting Irish voice that had even more accent than Doyle. Suddenly Angel knelt in front of him, his human face showing doubt and worry. “I’ll not have ye suffer.” Angel whispered and then morphed into his game face. Xander realized just a second too late what Angel meant, and he struggled to fling himself over the back of the couch, but a heavy body wrestled him back down. He planted an elbow in some body part soft enough to give, but he felt his arm pulled behind his back by a strength he couldn’t hope to counter.
As he writhed in panic, trying to buck the body off him, he could hear Angel’s soft voice. “Struggle if ye need to, but I won’t let the demon destroy you.” Xander brought up a leg, trying to get leverage, but the foot was kicked out from under him, and he found himself pinned face down on the couch. Angel’s full weight now fell on his back with his one arm still pinned to the small of his back, and he knew the fight was over.
The demon knew too and crowed for joy that it had been found worthy of taking. Xander backed off some and relaxed into the moment, knowing what the demon needed. He was going to be miserable no matter what happened, so the least he could do is give the demon a new sire, a new source of happiness that would make the beast within him happy even if he never would accept Angel as any sort of substitute.
He felt Angel press at his head, and he nearly panicked again at the thought of Angel destroying Spike’s claim mark. Pushing the nearly purring demon to the side, he forced his way up and wriggled until he could tilt his head in submission in the opposite direction, giving Angel a clear shot at his neck, but not to Spike’s own mark.
That small bit of defiance out of the way, he retired and waited for the strike, and Angel didn’t make him wait long. He felt Angel’s teeth tear into his neck, and his demon rejoiced at the strength of the bite, the depth of the claim. He let the demon sink into the feeling of acceptance as he found his own solace in the emptiness that would be his for the rest of his life. Angel might satisfy the demon, but he was Spike’s and nothing would ever replace that.
Angel drank several mouthfuls, and if Xander knew anything about vampire rituals, forced his own blood into the wound. Xander’s demon purred enthusiastically, both in his head and in the low rumbles of his chest, and prepared for sire to accept him fully, to use him. Xander just tried to shut off the surround sound live theater in his head so that the demon and Angel could finish up without him feeling like he had betrayed Spike. Angel pulled back.
Xander started mentally chanting as he waited for the clothes to start disappearing, but Angel stood there, his human face back in place and obviously done. Xander could feel his demon’s confusion, but he had to admit to a little relief on his part.
“You won’t kill yourself,” Angel ordered, and then he turned and walked upstairs.