Spike stirred and Xander rose from the couch and quietly approached him. Spike drew in a short breath, almost like a gasp. His blue eyes blinked up at Xander almost instantly. They had a wary look to them.

"Hi again," Xander said softly. "Sleep well?"

Spike turned his gaze to the ceiling and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, did. Feel better."

He shifted a bit, the muscles in his shoulders visibly tensing as he did so. The slight motion made him grimace with pain.

"Still can't move my bloody arms," he muttered and cast a worried glance at Xander before looking away.

"Then don't try to. They need to be put back in place and I'm gonna do that for you in a few minutes. First you gotta have another meal. I figure this thing'll only work if you're chock-full of blood – and wow did that not sound pretty?"

He smiled at Spike to let him know that he was joking. Spike didn't smile.

He cleared his throat, feeling like an idiot.

"So anyway, you just stay right where you are… Well, I mean, you'll be here and I'm gonna go heat up some more blood for you. And then we'll get those shoulders back where they belong."

He came back a couple of minutes later and knelt down.

"Here you go."

He held out the mug, letting it touch Spike's lips and once again watched as Spike drank the life giving fluid. A little spill trickled down the side of Spike's mouth and he instinctively reached out to wipe it off with his fingertip. The drop of blood clung to the digit as Spike finished drinking the rest of the blood in the mug. Not wanting to wipe the blood off in his pants, he held his hand slightly up in the air as he sat the mug down.

"I can clean it off for you," Spike offered quietly.

"Huh? Uh… thanks" Xander said.

He extended his finger towards Spike and watched as Spike touched his cool tongue to his fingertip and caught the drop of blood. It was over in a second, but Xander's heart did a little jump at the sensation which that simple touch caused in him, and he immediately pulled back his hand, feeling ashamed. Fuck, why did Spike have that effect on him? It was not okay. It was so not okay.

"More?" he managed to croak, trying to get his mind back on track which was to help Spike, not ogling him.

"No." Spike replied, not looking at Xander. "I can't. Haven't had this much to eat since… I don't know, really. I don't know how long I was…" He drew in a shuddering breath and looked at Xander.

"What's the date?"

"The Hellmouth collapsed in 2003," Xander began slowly. "That's more than ten years ago now. Today is August 31, 2013."

He couldn't bring himself to look at Spike's expression at this news just yet. Still, he wanted to know the truth about the length of Spike's captivity himself so he continued in a calm and steady voice.

"A few years ago, I was told by Willow that you didn't survive in LA. That you died there along with Angel in the early spring of 2004. Was that when you were captured?"

He looked back down at Spike. The look of shocked horror on Spike's face answered his question. He watched in horror as Spike's eyes began to fill with the wet sheen of tears. Watched how Spike tried to hold his emotions in check. Watched how trying to do so seemed to hurt him. Xander's own vision began to blur in sympathy. He couldn't even begin to understand what this information did to Spike but all he wanted to do himself was pretty much curl up into a ball. He guessed Spike wanted to, no needed to do the same but of course, he couldn't.

Frowning in worry, Xander reached out and placed a hand, palm down, on Spike's forehead. Spike's lips quivered and he locked eyes with Xander. As they stared into each other's eyes, a shudder ran through Spike's frame and Xander bit his lower lip hard. He stroked Spike's head softly and whispered, "Don't hold it back, Spike. Just let it out."

He watched as the last of Spike's defenses crumbled and Spike began to cry in earnest.

God, Xander had never felt so helpless in his life. No comforting words could make up for what Spike had been through. Nothing could make up so many years of suffering. Xander wanted to gather Spike in his arms, but knew he couldn't without causing Spike a severe amount of pain. Not knowing what else to do, he therefore gently cupped Spike's cheek and ran his fingers soothingly over Spike's face and bristled hair, murmuring nonsense. He wiped tears off Spike's face and neck. Tried vainly to wipe off tears of his own on his t-shirt. His chest burned and his throat ached. It took all he had in him to stay in position and just be there for Spike, trying to give him some sort of comfort.

Gradually, Spike's sobbing subsided. He continued to weep soundlessly, and that was nearly more heartbreaking to watch because Spike looked so goddamn desolate lying there, tears streaming down his thin and battered face.

Xander continued stroking Spike's face and hair. Finally, the tears ran out, but Spike's breaths still came out hitched and uneven sounding. Xander didn't talk. There really weren't any words to say. He bowed his head and sighed, as he listened to Spike's breathing slowly begin to calm down.

"Xander?"

Spike's voice sounded raw.

"I don't know… why you came for me. But thank you."

Xander looked at Spike. His own voice wasn't exactly steady but he managed to reply, "I wish I'd known about you sooner. I wish I could have spared you some of those years in that hellhole but I just didn't know. I found out that you were alive last month when Willow told me. She hadn't known before either and it was pure luck that she did find out. When she told me, we both figured that you were simply living somewhere and I don't know... I just wanted to meet you. Wanted to get to know you better. And then I…

"As soon as we figured out that you were being held somewhere, we did everything we could to find a way to get to you and get you out. I wish we'd been quicker but… But now you're here. And there's a whole future lying out there waiting for you, you know."

He took a deep breath.

"And we'll start it off by fixing those shoulders. No more putting things off, okay? What d'you say? Ready to give it a try?"

Spike looked at Xander, an unreadable expression on his face. He nodded. Xander rose and knelt behind Spike's head. He rolled his head to get some of the tension out of his neck.

"Right, we need to remove the pillows again. This thing's best done when you're lying flat on your back. And Spike? I won't lie to you. This is gonna hurt like a bitch. But once it's done, you'll feel much better. I promise. Okay! I'll remove the pillows now. I'm doing it one at a time, same as I did when I propped you up to begin with."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Spike had become exhausted from all that weeping. He hadn't wanted to break down and cry again, but Xander's empathic look and his sodding hand on Spike's head had broken something and he hadn't been able to prevent it. He'd cried for all those years spent in torment, for his humiliation, for his lost self that would never return, for Angel, for everything, really.

Now, alt he felt was worn out and it didn't seem like all that senseless bawling had helped any. When did it ever? But maybe the numbness it had caused did help a little. It nearly didn't hurt when Xander got the pillows out from under him.

Xander told him that he had to brace himself. Glumly he thought to himself And when don't I ever? But he did as he was told and took in a couple of steadying breaths.

Xander wanted to start with his right arm. He would push it down using force if necessary so that it would end up lying flat along Spike's body. Then he would lift Spike's underarm up in a ninety degree angle perpendicular to Spike's body, making it point up towards the ceiling. When that was done, he would set the shoulder right.

It sounded easy. It hurt like bloody hell.

Spike roared from the agony lancing through his right side. It felt like Xander was trying to bleeding wrench his bloody arm right off its hinge. God! And that was only the getting the arm down part.

He wanted to pass out but it didn't happen. Xander quickly got up and straddled his thighs. Spike could only look blearily up at him. Christ, but he ached!

When Xander took hold of his arm again and bent it at the elbow, he wanted to arch his body and get away somehow but of course he couldn't. Xander kept him firmly in place, and told him to make a fist which he shakily managed to do. Xander's hand closed around it to make it tighter and then Xander pushed the underarm outwards away from his body and then back inwards.

He screamed as his shoulder creaked loudly in protest but then something clicked and settled in the joint, and abruptly the terrible burning pain simply disappeared. He lay gasping and panting, feeling utterly spent. It had hurt like hell a few seconds ago but now there was no discernible pain worth mentioning. Xander was a bloody miracle maker!

He saw the satisfaction on Xander's face and felt Xander' hand squeeze around his fist and give it a little shake as if Spike'd just won a bloody competition or something and he couldn't help but smile a bit up at the man. Then he sobered and his smile withered away. Because now, of course, he would have to go through the same ordeal with the other arm.Bloody hell!