Author's Note: Here it is, the eleventh chapter of Golden Boy. Sorry about the delay, but I've got three other WIPs going on at the same time at the moment, so I'm rotating my updates. Window to the Soul is up next, so any FAKE fans out there can look forward to that. Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

Dalton let out a bitter smile at the cruel twist of fate, rose-hued tears making their way down his cheeks. The girl, a Slayer judging from the speed in which she had arrived, looked at him impatiently and fiddled with a small silver cross at her throat. Slowly, she began to realise something was wrong.

"What happened? Where's Xander?"

Dalton moved aside and pointed to Spike. "He killed Damien, but it took the last of his strength to do it."

Buffy shoved past Dalton only to freeze in horror as she spotted the blood-soaked body encased in the vampire's arms. "Oh, God. Xander," she whispered, her eyes widening in fear. The noise Spike was making was unlike anything she'd ever heard, at the same time both horrible and heart-wrenching. "Is he dead?" she asked once she found her voice.

"I'm not sure. Master Spike is very likely to be aggressive toward anyone who approaches."

A wave of anger hit the Slayer and she ducked under the chain barrier and into the arena. "He could be still alive! We need to get him to a hospital!"

Spike looked up with a snarl as Buffy approached, his golden eyes flashing in warning. The body in his arms didn't move.

"Spike," Buffy began, reaching for the vampire's shoulder. "Spike, we need to know if Xander's still alive, so we can get him to a hospital. He'll die if he doesn't get help soon." The Slayer spoke slowly as if speaking to a child or a wild animal.

"I can't feel 'im," Spike whispered hoarsely, still rocking slowly. His eyes, blue now, were unfocused and seemed to look through Buffy, rather than directly at her. "I can't feel 'im," he repeated.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, trying to make sense of the grieving vampire. "You can't feel a heartbeat?"

Spike raised a hand stained crimson with Xander's blood to his head. "In here. I can't feel 'im," he rasped.

"Something happened a few nights ago that bound them together mentally," Dalton said quietly, kneeling next to Spike. "We're not sure what it was, but Xander harnessed its power and used it to destroy Damien."

Buffy had stopped listening, instead focusing all of her attention on the almost imperceptible movement of Xander's chest. She reached out tentatively with her hand, afraid that if she moved too quickly, the young man would stop breathing. Very faintly, she could feel warm puffs of air hit the palm of her hand as Xander exhaled.

"He's alive," she whispered, not quite believing what she saw.

"Dalton looked up sharply from his task of trying to placate his Master."What?" His eyes flickered to where Buffy's hand hovered over Xander's mouth. "But, but that's impossible!" he stammered. "Spike should be able to sense him!"

"He's breathing, only the living do that in my book," Buffy replied as she moved her hand to Xander's breast. "His heart's beating. Faintly, but it's beating." She looked up at Dalton. "I need your help. We need to get him some medical attention as soon as possible," she said urgently.

Dalton nodded and signalled to a tall, lanky vampire with a longsword strapped to his back. "Fox, bring the DeSoto around, then wait here with the rest. Ben, you're in charge until Master Spike returns," he instructed.

"I'll drive and wait with you and Master Spike at the hospital," the scholar said, turning back to Buffy. "I'm assuming you'd feel safer that way?"

Buffy nodded. "Angel told me you're not much of a fighter, and Spike's really not in any position to attack me." If agreeing to a truce, albeit a temporary one, with the vampires was what she had to do in order to save Xander, then so be it.

Fox pulled up next to them in the DeSoto. Buffy looked anxiously at Spike, wondering how they were going to convince the grief-crazed vamp to get in the car. Dalton too, hesitated before lightly touching Spike's shoulder. "My lord, we must get Xander to a hospital. We haven't lost him yet, but we will if we don't hurry," he said gently.

To Buffy's surprise, Spike rose to his feet without a word, gently cradling Xander close. Fox quickly opened the door to the back seat and helped Spike settle both himself and Xander comfortably.

"Guess I've got shotgun, then," Buffy muttered to herself as Dalton helped her up.

"Are you staying tonight?"

"Yeah; I think I'll call Willow and Giles too. They'll want to be there when Xander wakes up. My mom'll understand why I'm not in school," Buffy replied. She shut the door as she settled into the passenger seat of the DeSoto.

Dalton nodded and started the car. "The three of you will be safe; you have my word."

"For now," a rough voice snarled from the back seat. "Now cut the fuckin' chatter an' drive, Dalton!"

"Well, that was certainly interesting," Master Julian said thoughtfully. "Far more interesting than I had expected this Challenge to be."

Ben bowed respectfully to the Master vampire. "That's Master Alexander for you: he's anything but predictable." He glanced out toward the road where the DeSoto had disappeared moments ago. "I can only hope the kid pulls through; Master Spike's sanity depends on his survival."

"Yes, I noticed that Spike had a rather unhealthy obsession with the boy," Julian sniffed airily. "You Aurelians certainly have had your share of unusual Masters: Angelus was cursed with a soul, Drusilla was batshit insane, and now Spike has Claimed a human child as his mate!" He shook his head in mock sadness. "And to think that yours was one of the most prestigious Orders..."

Ben shot Julian a venomous look. "I think it's time for you to take your minions and leave, Master Julian," he growled meaningfully. No uptight prick like Julian was going to just stand there and insult his Order.

Julian smiled thinly. "Of course. Good night, Benjamin," he said, executing a mocking bow before slinking off with his vampires into the night.

"Fucking prick," Ben muttered under his breath. He turned and stalked moodily back to the edge of the arena where Fox, Cooper, and several others were cleaning up the remains of the Challenge. All evidence of the fight would need to be removed to avoid arousing suspicion among the mortal herds.

"Sire!"

Ben closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning to face Starcat. "Aren't you supposed to be helping the cleanup crew?"

Starcat blinked. "Well... yeah, but you need to see this!"

"See what?" Ben could feel the last vestiges of his patience slipping away.

"A prophesy. Ella found it, and she thinks Master Spike is mentioned in it."

Ben's eyes widened. Prophesies were not to be taken lightly and if Ella could decipher some of it, then the events it described had already been set in motion. He quickened his stride, forcing Starcat to scramble to catch up. "Show me," he snarled.

Xander's admittance to the hospital had gone without much of a hitch. Dalton had identified himself as Xander's father and told the nurse on duty that the youth had been beaten by a gang of teenagers on the way home from work. The nurse seemed to accept the story and barely glanced at Dalton's faux ID.

Spike bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as the technicians quickly inserted a catheter into Xander's arm and started his fluids. His mate's skin still had that deathly grey pallour to it, but the lead tech firmly reassured him that she had seen people walk away from far worse. Spike could tell she was lying.

"Master?" Dalton was at his side with a mixture of worry and sympathy on his face. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

Spike nodded distractedly as he turned back to the waiting room. "Coffee. Black. Get the Slayer a cappuccino or something." Dalton nodded and wordlessly padded away.

Taking a seat next to Buffy, Spike leaned back and closed his eyes. Humans were too bloody fragile; that was why Spike had tried to avoid getting attached to the boy. He couldn't lose another loved one.

"What are you going to do if Xander recovers?" Buffy asked quietly.

"When Xander recovers," Spike corrected, "and you won't have to worry about me. I'll be taking Xan and leaving."

"For good?"

"Yeah. Too many soddin' memories here. I'll leave Ben in charge of the pack, but he'll probably leave town as well."

Dalton returned with the drinks and sat down, setting the drink tray on the table. The scholar fiddled with his glasses, cleaning them furiously on his shirt.

"You're like a vampy version of Giles," Buffy commented, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "He's my Watcher. He's always cleaning his glasses like that when he's stressed."

Dalton gave her a faint smile. "It's a habit I've had since I was a boy."

Spike ignored the pair, instead focusing his attention entirely on the door where the technicians had wheeled Xander. A thousand questions raced through his mind, some of them the doctor could answer, some she could not.

"Is there a William Stuart here?"

Spike looked up sharply at the nurse's voice. "I'm William," he said gruffly, trying to hide his anxiety. Had Xander died? Had he woken up? Were there any complications with his surgery?

"You have a phone call, sir. A man named Benjamin," the nurse replied. "Follow me."

Spike wanted to scream in frustration. He bit his tongue and followed the portly woman into the reception area.

"Park twenty-two," she said, handing Spike the phone before walking away.

Ben's voice came on the other line as soon as Spike punched in the correct digits. "Master, we've found something?"

"Could it save Xan?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then I don't want to hear it," Spike snapped irritably.

"Wait, my lord!" Ben pleaded. "Ella found a prophesy. It was in the Lady Drusilla's old trunk."

Spike's curiosity was piqued. "What kind of prophesy," he ventured.

"We're not sure yet. We think it's saying something about an apocalypse."

Of course. "Why should I care?"

"It mentions you, Master." Ben's voice was completely serious. "'The Bloodied childe of Aurelius,' it says. Ella's still translating the rest. It's in some sort of ancient script similar to Greek. The Prophesy of Drypetis, it's called."

The name meant nothing to Spike. "Call me when you find out more," he ordered.

"Of course, my lord. I'll be in touch."

Spike set the phone back in its cradle and nodded his thanks to the nurse. Outside the office, the vampire leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. An apocalypse. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Author's Note: Don't kill me about the cliffhanger::hides: I will get into the prophesy in the next chapter, so it'll make more sense then. Any history buffs out there might recognise the name 'Drypetis,' but that's all I'm saying.