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“Get up. And come over here.”

Spike heard the frighteningly soft command, but could not quite bring himself to move. All he really wanted to do was to wake up Dawn, to alert her to the presence of her friend in the doorway, and try to make her aware of the threat he posed.

But – would she believe him?

He could see the scene playing out in his head – and somehow, he could not see it ending in any other way than with Dawn trying to calm him and reassure him that he had just misunderstood, that Xander was not dangerous, he was just confused, because of all that he’d been through…and going right back to sleep.

At which point, Xander would be free to work out his increased aggressions on Spike.

His hesitation was immediately overcome with fear at the next whispered words out of the young man’s mouth – barely audible, to anyone but Spike, and certainly not loud enough to disturb Dawn’s sleep.

“If you wake her up – I’ll have to hurt her, Spike. And I know you don’t want me to do that.”

Spike froze, a soft pleading whimper rising in his throat, as he closed his eyes, shaking his head in desperate denial of what was happening.

Xander did not allow it for long.

“I won’t tell you again, Spike. Get your pathetic, worthless butt over here, *now*.” The softness, the calm tone of his voice made the menacing words all the more chilling.

Helplessly, Spike eased his body out from under the light weight of Dawn’s arm, sliding across the mattress until she was no longer touching him -- careful not to disturb her at all.

If something happened to her because of his own stupidity – he would never forgive himself.

The moment Spike’s feet hit the floor – he dropped to his knees, his head lowered submissively, as he crawled obediently toward the young man across the room, in the way that he had been made to time and again during his captivity.

“That’s it,” Xander softly encouraged him, “that’s a good boy, Spike…” He spoke to him as if he was an often-beaten dog, which might flee if he spoke too harshly to him – but Spike knew that the gentle tone was a deception.

He *wanted* to flee – he just knew that it would do no good.

He knew it now, beyond all doubt – there *was* no escape.

The moment he came within Xander’s reach, the boy grabbed him by the hair, jerking him up to his feet, and Spike bit back the cry of pain that rose to his lips – aware that too much noise on his part would only serve to place Dawn in danger. Still, Xander clamped a hand tightly over his mouth as he dragged the shaking, unresisting vampire out into the hallway, closing the bedroom door quietly behind them.

He continued into Dawn’s bedroom across the hall, closing the door before shoving Spike forcefully up against the wall, leaning into his face with a smug smile of menace as his big hands fisted in the fabric of Spike’s t-shirt.

“Well – guess you thought you’d really pulled one over on me, didn’t you, Fangless?” he sneered.

Spike just shook his head, desperately, helplessly, his trembling hands raised in front of his stomach between them, a futile, instinctive gesture of self-defense.

“Thought you’d got away? Thought I wouldn’t find you?” He slammed him against the wall again, leaning in closer to him to snarl, “No such luck, Spike. I told you – you’ll *never* get away from me!”

Spike just shook his head, tears falling from his tightly shut eyes, much to his dismay. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible over the harsh, angry breath of his attacker. “Please…please don’t…”

Xander had never allowed him the luxury of tears. When things had been at their worst in the caves where he had been held prisoner, and Spike could not hold back the tears of agony and despair – those tears had only served to infuriate the boy further, and bring about more pain and punishment. Spike was nothing more than a monster, Xander had insisted. Not human – no real feelings – and not deserving of the right to complain about anything that was done to him, in any way.

But the past few days – the powerful release of emotions that had been held back for so long, and mercifully allowed by Buffy and Dawn – had left Spike with very little control over the emotions that consumed him now. His resistance was weakened, and the tears seemed determined to streak his face, no matter how hard he tried to stop them.

But apparently, at the moment, the tears were the least of Xander’s concerns.

“Well, look at you!” he smirked, with a falsely impressed tone. “Aren’t you just coming along so well! Talking and everything! You’re getting pretty smart, arentcha, Spike?”

The leading nod of the boy’s head prompted the petrified creature, nearly beside himself with terror, to nod quickly in response, choking back a sob as he whispered, “Yes…yes…”

“*No*!” Xander snapped, a vicious fury in his voice as he shoved Spike into the wall again, and the vampire flinched at the violence of his reaction. “No, you’re not, Spike! You are *stupid*! Nothing but a stupid, worthless monster – and I’ve told you more than once to keep your stupid mouth *shut*! So what I’m wondering is – why you’re talking at all, you little idiot? Huh?”

Spike shook his head desperately, simply responding to Xander’s actions, not having the first idea what was expected of him, how to appease this monster in front of him – simply wanting to go along with whatever he said, to somehow keep from angering him any further.

As the boy visibly reined in his rage, making an effort to regain his control before going on, Spike felt his knees weaken beneath him at the power of the hatred rolling off of the young man – the seemingly harmless boy who had held him in his power for as long as he could remember.

“Sorry about that,” Xander chuckled softly, shaking his head in self-deprecating amusement. “I’d better keep it down – or I might wake up Dawn – and I *really* don’t want to hurt her, Spike – I really don’t – it’s just that if you weren’t so freakin’ *stupid*,” he hissed, slamming his fist suddenly into the wall in a restrained show of anger, inches from Spike’s face, “then I wouldn’t get so freakin’ *angry* -- you know?”

He smiled as Spike flinched away from him, and he grabbed his hair, jerking his head backward and twisting his hand cruelly in the unruly golden curls.

“S-sorry!” the vampire stammered out in a whisper, tears streaming from his eyes. “Sorry – please!”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about, Spike – stupid!” Xander shook his head in mock sympathy, tightening his grip on Spike’s hair, pulling mercilessly at the wound on the back of his head that had not quite healed yet. “ ‘Cause I already told you very clearly to *shut up*!”

In a misery of confusion and terror, desperate to appease his captor, yet forbidden even to apologize, or plead for mercy, Spike felt the old impulse to fall to his knees on the floor at Xander’s feet – tried to, in fact – but Xander’s strong hands gripped his arms and pulled him back up straight.

“Unh-uh, Spikey,” he sneered, shaking his head with a deceptively kind smile. “it’s way too late for that. See – we’ve got a little problem here. Back when you were nothing but a pathetic little retard – couldn’t see – or talk – or even tell anybody what I look like – I didn’t have to worry about you running your mouth – telling Buffy things I *really* don’t want her to know…”

“W-won’t,” Spike desperately promised, his eyes wide and pleading. “Won’t tell – please…”

Xander’s hand immediately drew back in preparation for a punishing blow across his face, and Spike flinched.

“Sorry – sorry,” he whispered, one hand raised in a weak, instinctive attempt to shield his face from the threatened blow.

“You’re not *too* sorry, are you, Spike?” Xander snarled, grabbing his wrist and wrenching it down to his side, moving in closer to his face, just to emphasize how helpless he really was. “ ‘Cause you’re still running your mouth! Guess you’re still just a little retard after all, aren’t you?”

Spike shook his head frantically, though he dared not say a word, trembling violently at the terrifying nearness of his tormentor, pressed so close to him that the heat from his furious body was searing against his thinly covered skin.

“You are – if I say you are – aren’t you?” Xander demanded, raising his hand again.

Realizing that he had given the wrong answer, Spike quickly corrected, nodding obediently, this time not daring to raise his own hand in self-protection.

“So you expect me to believe that a little idiot like you is just gonna keep his mouth shut? Just because I tell you to?”

Again Spike nodded desperately, tears streaming down his face. *Please – please don’t hurt me – please don’t – I’ll never tell…*

“Well – I don’t think I believe you, honestly, Spike,” Xander went on with a smirk. “Personally – I think you’re gonna go running to Buffy to tell her everything the first chance you get – aren’t you?”

Desperately, Spike shook his head, keeping it lowered in submission, his eyes closed as the silent plea circled through his head again and again. *No – won’t tell – please…*

“Little liar,” Xander snarled, slamming Spike back against the wall and raising his fist this time – but once again, stopping is hand before delivering the blow. “No – I’d better be careful, huh, Spike? Wouldn’t wanna leave any marks, would I? At least, not anywhere she’ll notice…”

One hand tangled viciously in Spike’s hair again, as Xander reached his other fist around behind the vampire’s back, driving it relentlessly into his kidneys – eliciting a startled cry of fear and pain.

“Shut *up*!” Xander demanded – and Spike obediently stifled the sound, biting down hard on his lip, until he tasted his own blood in his mouth.

“See, she’ll never know anything even happened, this way, will she?” the boy went on, satisfaction in his cruelly smug voice. “And you’re not gonna tell her, either – are you?”

Spike shook his head pleadingly, not even bothering to fight the tears of pain that flowed down his face – not anymore.

“No, you’re not,” Xander agreed, “you’re not gonna say a word – and do you know why, Spike?”

Another pitiful shake of his head; Spike’s face was streaked with tears that had fallen down to soak his shirt.

“Because if you do – I’m not just gonna kill *you*,” Xander warned him softly. “I’m gonna kill Dawn – and Buffy, too. I can do it, no matter how strong she is – because they’d never see it coming. They trust me, Spike. They’d never believe you anyway. You know that.”

Sobbing softly, defeated, Spike nodded.

“Now, if you keep your mouth shut, there’s no reason why I should have to hurt you, Spike,” Xander reasoned patiently, though his relentless fist in Spike’s back was anything but gentle. “You can go on doing reasonably okay, you know?” he shrugged. “Dawn and Buffy will be safe – and I won’t bother you – but – if you don’t think you can keep your mouth shut…”

Spike frantically shook his head, terrified at the soft menace in the boy’s voice, the terrible things he had threatened to do.

He would do *anything* to protect Buffy and Dawn.

“You can’t?” Xander deliberately misunderstood. “That’s what I thought…” Shaking his head sadly, he released Spike, taking the same gun he had used to shoot Spike in the first place from his jacket pocket, and turning back toward Buffy’s bedroom, where Dawn lay sleeping, innocently oblivious to the scene that was taking place in her own room.

“*No*!” Spike cried out desperately, dropping to his knees on the floor, one hand reaching out instinctively to catch the boy’s ankle in a weak, trembling grasp that was more imploring than restrictive.

Xander stopped, looking down expectantly at the vampire, now leaning forward, his face to the floor in supplication, sobbing and shaking his head in a silent plea to spare the girl who already felt like his own family.

Xander just stared down at him coldly for a moment, before jerking free of his weak grasp, a contemptuous look in his dark, hate-filled eyes – smiling secretly to himself with satisfaction.

He would never have laid a hand on Dawn.

But fortunately for him – Spike did not know that.

“You’re gonna keep your mouth shut?” he asked in a coldly skeptical voice.

Spike nodded, his trembling lips still pressed to the floor, but not daring to make a sound.

After an excruciatingly long pause, Xander finally nodded, crouching down beside him. “Okay. We have a deal then,” he declared softly. “But if you say a word, Spike…” He reached down suddenly and jerked him up by the hair, forcing him to meet his eyes. “…Dawn’s going to be the first to go. You’ll be last – and I’ll make it last a good long time, Spike, you got that?”

Spike nodded, swallowing back a fresh sob of despair – and Xander released him, leaving him kneeling on the floor as he stood up straight, glancing at his watch.

“Buffy should be home soon,” he remarked. “You’d better go crawl back into her bed like a good little whore.”

Spike could not remember the meaning of the word that Xander had just called him – but the seething disgust in his voice was clear. He started to rise on trembling legs, but Xander’s heavy hand on his shoulder shoved him back to his knees. He looked up through wide, fearful eyes, uncertain of what exactly he had done wrong – surprised to see that Xander was still calm and smiling.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.

“I said crawl, didn’t I?” Xander smirked as he released him, his eyebrows raised in a subtle challenge.

At the moment, there was no challenge that Spike felt up to. His heart numb with the shame, pain, and fear of the past half hour, he dropped down on trembling hands and knees, and made his way down the hall back to Buffy’s bed – waiting hopelessly for her return, with nothing to think about except his own isolation of helplessness.

********************************

“You’re wrong, Angel,” Buffy gasped for breath as she slowed her pace, when she and Angel reached her driveway. “It’s not Xander – it can’t be.”

“I thought you said Giles was here.”

Buffy frowned at the empty spot in the driveway where Giles’ car had been. “He was.”

Without another word, Angel rushed toward the door – and if only to spare her front door the fate of being smashed to pieces by the frantic vampire, Buffy hurried to beat him there – trying her best to fight back the rising sick feeling of apprehension in the pit of her stomach.

*Not Xander – can’t be Xander – he could never…*

“Wait!” she snapped at Angel, fumbling with her key before finally managing to unlock the door. “Everything’s gonna be just fine in there, Angel, you’ll see…”

The moment the door was open, Angel rushed past her inside, stopping short in the entry, staring into the living room. Feeling her heart drop into her stomach, Buffy moved quickly past him to see what he was looking at – only Xander, asleep on her living room sofa.

“See?” she said pointedly – but her shoulders sagged with visible relief. “Everything’s fine. Xander didn’t do anything…”

Angel was silent for a moment, a deep frown creasing his brow as he scented the air. A low growl rose in his throat suddenly as he snarled, “Oh, yeah? Then how come I can smell my childe all over him?”

Before Buffy could recover from the shock of that statement – or even begin to think of trying to stop him – Angel had crossed to the couch, gripping the sleeping boy’s shirt and hauling up off the couch with both hands.

“Angel, stop it!” Buffy cried out with alarm, following him and pulling him away from a startled, sleepy Xander. “Are you crazy?”

“What the…” Xander mumbled, eyes suddenly wide and fearful on the vampire’s menacing game face. “Buffy!”

“Angel, back off!” Buffy warned him, stepping between them protectively, her voice trembling and taut with emotion.

“He’s been with Spike, Buffy – recently. And Spike was *terrified*! I can smell his fear all over this creep!” Angel informed her, his furious golden eyes focused on Xander’s face.

Buffy turned wary eyes to her friend, frowning. “Xander?”

“Yeah, of course I was with Spike!” he exclaimed, his own wide brown eyes darting to Buffy occasionally, as he kept his own gaze focused nervously on the master vampire who very obviously wanted to hurt him. “He was freaking out – I could hear him. Had some kind of nightmare or something. I thought Dawnie’d calm him down, but it just kept on – so I went up there. That girl sleeps like the dead, you know that?”

Buffy felt herself relaxing at the nervous, disarming smile that was so – so *Xander* -- felt herself beginning to let go of the fearful suspicions that Angel had placed in her mind. She nodded encouragingly, waiting for Xander to go on.

“Dawn didn’t wake up, so – I had to do my best to calm him down myself,” Xander explained. “And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy! But Buffy – I think he got it. He calmed down, went back to sleep.” He smiled at his friend warmly as he added, “I think he’ll actually be okay with me now, Buffy.” He paused, a slightly apologetic look in his soft brown eyes as he admitted, “I *couldn’t* leave it like it was, Buffy. I know me and Spike were never friends – but I just *couldn’t* let him be so – so scared of me, you know?”

Angel was not in the least affected by Xander’s easy, gentle manner.

“Buffy, don’t you *dare* leave Spike alone with him!” he snapped, blazing golden eyes focused on Xander’s false smile.

Buffy turned challenging eyes on Angel, one eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?” she said, turning toward him and crossing her arms over her chest. “Last time I checked this was *my* house…”

“And Spike’s my childe,” Angel interrupted sharply, still glaring at Xander. “And I’m telling you, do *not* let him near him!”

Buffy’s eyes flashed indignantly as she turned completely on her former lover and declared, “That decision is up to me and Spike – no one else. I know you want to protect him, but it looks to me like you’re getting suspicious of the wrong person…”

“I’m not…”

“Angel, just stop it,” Buffy snapped, her voice suddenly weary as well as angry. “You almost had me convinced that my own…” She stopped abruptly, glancing at Xander, suddenly remembering that as yet, he was not aware of her suspicions. “You almost caused a lot of trouble tonight. Just – just go home, Angel…”

“Fine,” Angel replied tersely. “After him.”

With a heavy sigh, Buffy said, “Look – I just want to go check on Spike and go to bed. It’s really time for *both* of you to go – but Angel – Xander’s *not* the one who did this! You really need to just let this go, before someone else gets hurt…”

“Look, Buffy…I’m gonna go ahead and go home,” Xander said quietly, glancing uncertainly at Angel as he touched her arm briefly before heading for the door.

“Okay,” she nodded, smiling warmly and apologetically at him as he walked out. “Good night.”

Angel followed, an ominously purposeful weight to his step – but Buffy caught his arm, pulling him back.

“If you touch him,” she warned him flatly. “I *will* stake you, Angel. I don’t care what you think – he’s my best friend.”

Angel stared at her, disbelief, and something upsettingly like disappointment in his eyes, as he shook his head slowly, pulling his arm away from her gently.

“No, Buffy,” he informed her as he turned and walked out the door. “He’s really not.”