A/N: Short chapter; my apologies. More to come later, unless I blow up Market Basket. That job will be the death of me.
Chapter Thirteen
"Ben, come here and take a look at this."
The vampire in question stirred and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had fallen asleep in front of the computer for the second time that night, a behaviour almost unheard of in his race. He and his team of handpicked individuals had been combing through volume after volume of ancient tomes in the lair during the day and searching the Internet at the Espresso Pump during the night. It had been nearly five days since any of them had slept.
Yawning, Ben hauled himself to his feet and stretched with his usual leonine grace. He moved to stand behind Cooper's computer and peered over her shoulder at the screen. The vampiress had scanned a copy of the prophecy into the computer and was running a search on the text. Most of the text had been highlighted in red, but a small portion was highlighted in blue.
"Ella was right when she said this was similar to Greek; in fact, everything in blue is Greek," Cooper explained. "The red is an ancient language spoken by the warlike tribes of northern Greece."
"The Macedonians," Ben supplied. He had an uneasy feeling about where this was leading.
Cooper nodded. "Right, but check out what else I found." She minimized the window and brought her search engine up. "I cross-referenced the name Drypetis with ancient Macedon, and it turns out she was the wife of the king's second." She paused then lowered her voice to a volume that only vampire ears would pick up. "She was also rumoured to be a mind-reader."
Ben's eyes widened. "A telepath!"
"That's not all; guess who the king of Macedon was at this time: our young Master's namesake."
"Alexandros the Great!" Ben sank down into his chair. "You don't think this Drypetis was related to Xander, do you?"
Cooper shrugged. "It's a stretch. Just because they're both Greek telepaths doesn't necessarily mean anything."
"I know, but it's just a little too convenient that they not only have that in common, but have Spike as well." Ben rose to his feet. "Print out as much information as possible, including that coloured scan and info about King Alexandros and Drypetis' husband. We need Ella to translate more of that text!" He pulled on his jacket and hurried out the door.
He dived into the passenger seat of the waiting car and barked a sharp order to Fox to go to the hospital. He needed to get this new information to Spike as soon as possible.
Spike leaned against the wall and took a long drag on his cigarette. He had stopped by the den after his meal and found that little progress had been made in translating the prophecy. The news had only added fuel to his already unstable temper. After ranting and berating his hapless minions for nearly forty-five minutes, he stormed back to the hospital.
He exhaled slowly, smoke billowing around his head like an ominous storm cloud. He hated to feel as if he had no control over a situation and that control had been slowly slipping ever since the bloody prophecy had been discovered.
Spike could sense Xander awakening inside the hospital with Dalton and Red. At first the constant knowledge of what his mate was doing or thinking had unnerved him, but now it was an ability he valued. "I'll be in soon, luv," he sent, stomping his cigarette out under his boot.
"'Kay," came the sleepy response. There was an underlying feeling of discomfort surrounding Xander's presence and Spike was instantly concerned.
"Tell Dalton to get the nurse; I can feel your pain." He paused at Xander's sharp mental protest. "Now's not the time to act noble, Xander. You're in pain and there's no reason for you to keep suffering!" Xander's reluctant acquiescence came as more of a feeling than as actual words.
Spike padded into the hospital, nodding to the on-duty nurse as he headed to Xander's room. He fought the urge to sneeze as the strong scent of antiseptics hit his sensitive nose. Hospitals had never ranked high on his list of favourite places.
Dalton looked up as Spike entered and instantly rose to his feet to offer the other male a seat. Spike dismissed the offer with a brief wave and leaned in to nuzzle Xander's cheek. The telepath's scent was barely distinguishable from the various hospital smells that lingered around him. Spike purred softly, more as a comfort to himself than to Xander.
"The nurse gave him a mild sedative and analgesic," Dalton said quietly from his chair. "They'll probably start to kick in soon."
"They already are," replied Spike. He shielded his mind from Xander's as the waves of lassitude threatened to affect him as well. "He woke because of the pain, then?"
Willow nodded. "I think he was trying to block it so we wouldn't make him go back to sleep," she said. "He said he wanted to be awake when you came back."
Spike sat on the edge of the hospital bed, gaze remaining on his mate. "He needs rest more than anything. Knowing Xan, he'll push himself to his limits before he even thinks of askin' for help," he said.
Schooling his features into impassivity, he turned to Dalton. "Little progress has been made with the prophecy." His tone was almost accusing.
"I know, Master," Dalton replied, lowering his gaze submissively. "Our resources are limited and until we know what language the text is in, Ella can't finish translating it."
"Maybe we could help," came Willow's quiet suggestion.
Spike shifted to give the mortal his full attention. Flinching under his intense stare, Willow hurried on. "Well, Giles does have access to the Watcher's Council and all their information. If it'll help avoid an apocalypse, I'm sure he'd be willing to help."
Spike raised a dark eyebrow. "What makes you think we're trying to avoid an apocalypse?" he deadpanned.
Willow looked distinctly uncomfortable as she tried to brazen out Spike's silent threat. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to beat you to it," she replied, only a slight tremour in her voice betraying her nervousness.
The vampire chuckled. "You've certainly got a pair, Red," he purred. "Not many have the courage to openly Challenge a vampire like that." Reaching into an inner pocket of his duster, he pulled out several folded papers. "This is a copy of the text and Ella's notes. Whatever you and that Watcher can do with the soddin' thing would be a great help."
Warily, Willow took the papers and slid them into her bag. "So, you aren't really trying to bring about the apocalypse, right?"
"Nah, just havin' a bit of fun," he said with a grin. "An apocalypse would wipe out all mortal life. Where would we vamps be then?" He shook his head. "I'd rather not starve.
"You'd best be getting home now," he added as Willow tried to stifle a yawn. "Dalton here will take you. Thanks for staying with Xander; it meant a lot to him to have one o' his mates here."
Willow stood and shouldered her bag. "He's my friend; it was the least I could do to sit with him." She gave Spike a brief smile and touched Xander's hand before following Dalton out the door.
Spike turned back to his sleeping mate. A bit of colour had returned to Xander; the deathly grey pallour had begun to fade, much to Spike's relief. Purring softly, he leaned over and ghosted his lips across Xander's forehead before crawling into the now-vacant chair. He curled up and pillowed his head on the arm of the chair as he allowed himself to rest for the first time in days.
His rest was cut short by Xander's insistent mental shove. He opened a bloodshot blue eye and looked sleepily in the youth's direction. Raising himself up on one arm, he yawned and lowered his shields. "What's up, Xan? Feeling all right?"
"I'm fine," Xander replied, lifting his head for a kiss as Spike moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Ben and Fox are here with new information."
"The prophecy?" Spike guessed. "You should probably do a transfer of that info the Powers gave you when they come in. I'm assuming you're caught up on the situation so far?"
Xander nodded. "I picked it up from you earlier; your privacy blocks still aren't that strong." Their link again. It seemed to Spike that he could no longer hide anything from his mate. Xander's abilities seemed to have been enhanced since the link had been formed, but Spike still remained mind-dead to all but the mortal. He almost wished he were a full telepath: it would make their link much easier.
Spike's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Xander's lips against his own. "Being a telepath isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'll teach you how to block so you can have some semblance of privacy." Without those blocks, it would be as if they shared one mind, each constantly picking up the other's thoughts. The result would be maddening for both vampire and human.
Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Spike sat back. "I just don't like feeling dependent on you," he replied.
Fox and Ben chose that moment to walk into the room. Neither male looked as if they'd slept at all since the Challenge. Fox took up a guard position by the door and crossed his arms over his chest. He had no form of weaponry visible, but Spike knew that the warrior would be a formidable opponent for any who provided a threat.
"We found something, sir," Ben said excitedly. "Cooper figured out the language and she also has information on Drypetis."
Spike gestured for his second to sit. "Shut the door, Fox." The guard obeyed, then resumed his position. Spike gave him a curt nod, then turned back to Ben. "Now, details, if you would."
"The second language in the text is ancient Macedonian, the native tongue of the northern tribes of Greece. Drypetis was the wife of a Macedonian general, the king's second, to be exact. What's more important though, is that she was a telepath."
Spike's eyes widened at the implications. "And she's the one who wrote this prophecy."
Ben nodded. "Cooper and I both found it a bit too coincidental that she named you in the prophecy. You now have connections with not one, but two Greek telepaths."
"That means nothing. Besides, Xander's only half Greek."
"Not exactly," Xander commented, looking and feeling uncomfortable. "When I was unconscious, two of my ancestors came to me saying the Powers sent them. They said my mother was trying to hide what I really am. I'm fully Greek."
Spike's eyes glazed for a brief moment as Xander transferred the memories. "Who are these guys that want to hunt down your family?" he asked, slowly making sense of the multitude of information.
Xander shrugged, then winced as pain shot through his shoulder. "Alexandros wasn't specific; he was more concerned about the prophecy."
"Alexandros?" Ben squeaked. "That was your ancestor's name?" Spike had the impression that if vampires could pale in shock or fear, Ben would be the colour of freshly bleached sheets.
"Yeah," Xander replied with a sharp mental protest as Spike fussed over him. "He said that I should look for the royal sunburst or something like that."
"The royal sunburst," Ben repeated, still in shock. "Gods, boy; you're not Greek - you're Macedonian! You're the direct descendant of King Alexandros himself!"