7. Demon's Tears

Disclaimer: Y'all know the drill, own nothing, making no money from it.

Summary: It's Xander's turn to spend time in the basement.

Reviews: Yes please. The response to this fic is amazing, thank you. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Finally got this done. For those of you who missed the explainys in chapter seven of Resurrected, shame on you. Just kidding. Seriously, the muse got hijacked for a contest/challenge at Marsters-Mobsters dot com, which due to contest rules will not be posted anywhere until after Thanksgiving. All you incredible writers should go check it out there's still time to get a fic in. Then the computer went on strike (fried the power cord), and if that wasn't enough, went to write this chapter and Resurrected chapter eight appeared despite my best efforts. Anyway, I know it's short but it just ended here and I let it. Not gonna make any promises on what's coming next cause those never get kept anyway.

WayWard Childe: Hope you're feeling better, Luv. Miss you. Smooches and snuggles to you.

"Home." The whisper seemed to echo in the spacious basement. Joyce's hazel eyes widened in amazement. 'He spoke.' She thought. 'Oh, thank God.'

"Spike! That's great. I'm so proud of you." She purposely kept her voice soft and soothing. She put the rest of the blood at the foot of the bed within easy reach but he ignored it. He ignored her.

Spike was beyond listening to her soft encouragement.

It was normal procedure for his tormentor to use soft words and pets to lull him into a sense of security. At first he'd fallen for the trick and spoke to her but the punishment he'd earned had quickly taught him to ignore quiet words and gentle touches, they weren't real. But his hopeful nature had insured that he'd fallen for the trick several more times. The very last time he'd spoken had been after she had coaxed him with a gentle tone and soft words. She'd told him that it was all right, that nothing would happen if he'd talk to her. He'd asked quietly if he could please go, for her to just dust him and put him out of his pain. He'd gotten out a hiccupping plea for death which had caused her eyes to gleam in triumph just before she'd touched the end of the stun gun to his stomach. It had paralyzed him and the next time he was aware of anything, he was once more strapped to the cold examination table. He hadn't been allowed clothes since immediately after his capture so he was used to being vulnerable in that respect. The 'training session' that had followed his pleas had been the most painful he'd endured since he'd been there. He hadn't spoken a word since that day. That had been two months into his captivity. Two months that had passed in a blur of excruciating physical and mental torment. The training sessions after that were reserved for when she claimed that he was thinking. The last time he'd had an independent thought without pain had been less than two weeks after he'd spoken his last word.

Joyce was so excited about his 'breakthrough' that she not aware of his complete withdrawal. She didn't know that her praise had sent him into a flashback. She stood up to go back upstairs, mistaking his stillness for calm; she gently ran her fingers through his tousled hair. She made sure the monitor was switched back on before she went upstairs.

As soon as he sensed she was gone, he shifted. Moving slowly, carefully, as if in great pain, the demon shuffled across the bed. He scuttled cautiously to the head of the bed, trying to be as silent as possible. With a last frightened glance up the stairs, knowing someone would be down soon to punish him for speaking, he crawled into his corner and folded himself into as small a space as he could. He covered his head with his arms, closed his eyes and waited in trembling terror for the agony to begin.

Upstairs...

Buffy and Dawn were finishing their bowls of cereal when Joyce returned. "Mom, are you all right?" Buffy asked, visually scanning the older woman for injuries.

"I'm fine, Buffy." Joyce told her with a bit of exasperation in her tone. A knock sounded on the back door. Dawn hopped over to answer it.

"Hey, Xander!" She beamed as he walked in. Joyce gave a slight gasp at the young man's appearance. His face was drawn and pale with dark circles under his whiskey brown eyes.

"Xander? Are you all right?" She asked in concern.

He nodded his shaggy head. "Just a little tired." He made his way to the coffee pot and helped himself.

"We're out of here, Mom." Buffy stated as she and Dawn got ready to leave for school.

"Ok, Honey. Have a good day. Remember, you have vamp-sitting afterwards so don't go anywhere." Joyce told her eldest daughter. She turned to Dawn. "And don't forget, young lady, that you are grounded so you come straight home after school too."

"Yes, Mom." They chorused. It was much quieter after they were gone.

"I thought it was Willow's turn today?" Joyce got out the cream and sugar and set them on the table.

Xander nodded, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "It was but Giles forgot she has an early psych class today. Same one Buffy has. I'd be a liability at work so I called in. I told them I had a family emergency that would take a week to resolve." It would give him a week in which he wouldn't make any money and his moving-out fund would suffer severely but he didn't want his current lack of sleep to cause any serious problems. He liked his new construction job and was good at it. He was just happy he had an understanding boss who'd accepted his reasons for being gone. Xander had explained that the family problem was affecting his sleep and his boss had realized the potential hazard immediately. The male Scooby had been assured that his job would be waiting when the crisis was resolved.

The older woman nodded. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Xander shook his head, looking slightly green at the thought. "I appreciate the offer but I don't think I can. Had a really bad night." He sipped his hot coffee and closed his eyes for long minutes. "Has Spike been fed yet?"

Joyce smiled. "Yes, he has. Oh, Xander. He spoke!" She described the events of the morning. "He said 'Home'. Do you think he feels at home here?"

The male Scooby considered the question. "It could be that. It could be the vibe you give out. We all feel at home here. Some of us more than others." He ducked his head as he realized what he'd revealed. "I think I'll go make sure he finished his breakfast and settles down for the day."

He stood up and headed for the basement. "Gonna just go down and uphold our end of the agreement."

He made sure he stomped a little as he descended the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was startle the feral vamp. The first thing he noticed was the huddled ball of shivering vampire in the corner. "Oh, crap." He muttered.

The demon heard the human coming down the stairs and tried to brace himself for the punishment he was sure he'd earned. He consciously stopped breathing and tried to cease the shaking that was making his chains rattle. If he could keep attention off of himself then maybe his mistake would be overlooked. He waited tensely for the first flash of pain. The first one was always the worst because after that one, he had something to focus on. The seconds ticked by and the expected lash didn't land. Despite his resolve to remain unobtrusive, he began to pant as panic built in his chest. Why didn't it start? Why was he waiting?

Xander sank down onto the bottom step and buried his face in his hands. "I have not had enough sleep for this." He moaned.

The demon's head snapped up at the sound of the human's voice so far away. He tilted his head curiously at the sight of the man sitting on the steps. Wasn't he there to punish him? There was nothing in the human's hands. Had the comforting lady called that place? Were they coming to take him back because he'd been bad and had spoken? He began to shake again as dread flooded his entire being. That had to be it. The man was there to make sure he behaved until those people came for him. An involuntary whimper escaped and he cringed, knowing for sure that the punishment would start soon. Fearful golden eyes zeroed in on the dark haired man sitting on the step.

Xander looked over at Spike when he heard the whimper. He could see the frightened golden gaze peeking out over the black denim covered knees. A distracted portion of his mind noticed how threadbare the denim was. "Oh, God. Spike, don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna hurt you. Although a jury wouldn't convict me after what you did, it just wouldn't be right." Unable to look at the shaking figure any longer, he moved his gaze to the bed. Noticing the small pile of bags, he gently chastised the vampire. "You didn't finish your breakfast. It's probably cold by now. I'm not going to reheat it for you, pal. My kindness only goes so far."

He got up and slowly walked over to the cot. He winced when the shaking increased and the chains began to clank loudly. Carefully, Xander picked up one of the blood bags. He knew that this would be a test of trust. Spike needed to begin to trust them or he would never get better. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Mrs. Summers had said or done something that mirrored a tactic of Spike's captors. By enticing him into speaking, she'd inadvertently sent him into a full-scale panic attack. The golden eyes followed his every move.

The demon's stomach clenched when he realized the man was going to take his blood away. His heart dropped in disappointment. So that was the punishment, starvation. He'd almost prefer the physical pain. He watched warily as the human walked along the bed and stopped in front of him. The demon dropped his gaze, not wanting to be accused of presuming to stare. He'd gotten more than one round of torture because he'd met the gaze of a human. He flinched when the man crouched down.

Xander's hand shook when he saw the Big Bad flinch away from him. It wasn't right. Xander hated all vampires and Angel in particular. Spike had kidnapped and terrorized both him and Willow but he hadn't really hurt them. Xander had suffered a mild concussion and Cordy had gotten injured when she and Oz had arrived to rescue them. Before that, Xander had developed a grudging respect for the blond menace when he'd teamed up with Buffy to defeat Angel and save the world. When it was all said and done, Xander had some serious issues with vampires and with Angel's vampire family in particular. He took a deep breath as his runaway thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't want to feel sympathy for the trembling being in front of him but he did. And that was why he held out the bag of blood to the starving creature huddled in the corner.

The golden eyes widened in surprise when the blood appeared in front of him. Reluctantly, his gaze moved from the bag, past the slightly shaking hand and up the arm to the determined face of the man holding it.

Xander didn't blink when the intent gaze of the demon met his own whiskey colored eyes. He didn't know what Spike was looking for but he was determined to show no fear or threat. He kept his face and eyes still and calm while the demon stared at him. Finally, a pale slender hand reached out and snatched the bag almost faster than the eye could see. Xander moved back a half a step as he watched Spike huddle over his prize and turn partially away. He watched as the too-thin vampire sniffed the bag suspiciously before using one fang to make a tiny hole to test it. A low grumble sounded when the blood was judged to be acceptable and the bag was swiftly drained. A breath Xander hadn't realized he was holding whooshed out. Still moving deliberately to keep from startling the vampire, the human reached over and picked up the remaining bags of blood. His knees protested when he stood, so Xander moved away to pull the chair over. A low keening sounded from the corner.

The demon couldn't help it. The human had given him only a little of the not wrong blood and then had taken the rest of them away. He was still so hungry. He let his distress out the only way he knew, by sound.

Xander whipped around at the sound. A couple bags slipped from his fingers but he didn't notice in his shock at the hearing the noise Spike was making. The male Scooby had known that Spike was an emotional creature. He'd heard the blond vampire crying and moaning about Drusilla leaving him for another demon. At the time, Xander had put the histrionics down to the extreme drunken state Spike had been in. Now, though, the utter desolation on the thin face was more than Xander could stand. The human tracked the direction of the demon's gaze and saw that he was looking at the blood. Understanding dawned; Spike thought he was taking the blood away.

"No! Oh, God, no. Spike, I'm not taking it away! I'm just moving the chair over so I can sit down." Quickly he pulled the chair over and sat in it. He scooped up the fallen bags and held one out to Spike. The hope that bloomed in the golden depths nearly tore Xander's heart in two.

"Oh, God. I can't do this. Here." He stood and shoved the remaining bags onto the head of the bed within easy reach of the demon. Startled by the swift movements, the demon could do nothing but watch as Xander fled up the stairs. Something made him stop just as he reached the middle of the staircase. He looked over the railing. Spike had risen from the corner and was quickly gathering the blood bags. He cradled them against his chest and eased back down in his corner. When he realized that Xander was watching, he stilled his movements and looked up, meeting the man's gaze.

The demon couldn't believe the human was leaving the blood. He hadn't been punished! He'd been fed and the rest had been left for him. He sat back down with the precious items and paused when he felt the human watching him. The relief that had washed over him spilled out onto his face, the physical evidence of the overwhelming emotion trailing down over sharp cheekbones and dripping off his jaw.

The light glinted off the tears rolling down Spike's face. Xander stared in horror at the sight before whirling around and racing up the rest of the stairs, slamming the door as he tore through it. He sped through the kitchen, surprising Joyce and Giles who'd arrived while the younger man had been in the basement, and out the back door. He made it to the edge of the yard before he bent over and threw up the little bit of coffee he'd managed to drink.

Joyce started to rise and go after him but Giles placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Let me." She nodded and settled back into her chair, remembering at last to pull the receiver out of her pocket and turn it one. There was a soft snuffling noise she couldn't place but could hear nothing that would have caused Xander's flight.

Xander wiped his face with the handkerchief that had appeared from nowhere. He moved several feet to the side and sat on the fading grass of the lawn. Giles crouched next to him and removed his glasses. The older man simply waited until the male Scooby composed himself enough to explain.

"It's wrong. He's a vampire. I hate vampires. He thought I was there to hurt him or take his blood away. He's not supposed to be scared of me. And he sure as fucking hell is not supposed to be relieved when I leave." Xander's breath was ragged as he struggled with his emotions. Giles hid his surprise at the content of Xander's rant. The significance of what the younger man was saying made him feel vaguely ill although he should have expected it after his conference with Drusilla. He kept silent, somehow knowing that Xander wasn't finished. Even so, the next outburst shocked the Watcher. "God damn it! Vampires are not supposed to cry!"