When Spike slipped in through his window, he was met with a sharp voice demanding, "Do you do anything the normal way?"

He didn't jump, but he did curse softly under his breath as he straightened his jacket. He turned to the window, telling the boy, "I do plenty o' things normal, Whelp. I shower, brush m'teeth, wipe-"

"I don't need to know," he said as Spike locked the window. "What the hell are you doing climbing in through the window?"

He turned around, eyes used to the darkness of his room, and saw Xander staring at him from his bed, back propped against the wall with a pillow for support. "S'my room. I can come in any way I please, can't I?" He took a few steps towards the young man. "What are you still doing up anyway? Shouldn't you be getting some beauty sleep? Y'need all the help you can get."

"Ha ha, Bleach boy," he said, seeming to deflate a little into his pillows. He stared at the sheet around his waist, fiddling with the creases with his good hand. Spike watched, compelled to stay and see what Whelp had to say, if he had anything further to say even if it was a neat and clean, 'Sod off.' Surprisingly it wasn't. Instead, Xander said with a bit of a self-conscious shrug, "I couldn't sleep. I stupidly forgot to buy more earphones at the mall today so…"

"You been up since I left?" Spike asked, remembering that Whelp had been lying face up on the bed when he came in for his wallet and keys.

"Being awake is usually part of the 'can't sleep' instruction packet," he snarked back with a roll of his eyes.

Spike really enjoyed when the boy was tired. He was hysterical. Some part of him promised that he would do more to keep the boy up and agitated if this was the response he received, but he pushed it off as it contained a full crop of fantasies that weren't lucrative at this point in time. Despite the fact that he did enjoy Xander in this mode, he did understand the importance of sleeping, especially since even in the dark of his room the Whelp looked dead-tired.

He sat down on his own bed, leaned his elbows on his knees. "Like the noise to help ya sleep, do ya?"

Whelp scoffed. "Yeah. Lately." He shook his head and then fiddled with his cast as some sort of distraction.

Spike made a note to himself to pick up some headsets before he went to work tomorrow. Until then he shrugged. "Right, then. Let's watch some telly, shall we?" he asked. Whelp shrugged, nodded, fiddled with his cast some more. Spike flipped on the telly and tossed the remote to the other bed. "You pick the poison. I've got some things I need to do. Be back quick as a flash."

He nodded thankfully, already moving through channels, likely on a search for sci-fi. Spike watch the pictures flicker on the screen before he went on his check of the house, rolling his eyes when he only found the chain securing the front door closed and one of the kitchen windows partway open. The rest of the house was locked down tight though. The mess from the kitchen had been removed and the plates from the dining room had been set in the sink. He checked upstairs real quick, once again skirting over the room where the Watcher slept.

Then he was back in his room, sans his jacket which he had left in the hall closet, but still in jeans and his tee since he decided he would change a little later. He flopped down on his bed, pulling his boots off carelessly and letting them fall wherever. He glanced at the screen and found some horrible movie playing on the sci-fi network.

He shook his head, amused and a little disgusted. "You get your jollies off on this shite?"

Whelp shrugged. "This is mindless. Doesn't require me to think."

"Not that you think much anyway."

"Fuck off."

Spike smiled. He really liked Whelp when he was tired. He settled further onto his bed, pushed his pillows against the wall like Whelp had and crossed his ankles. He sighed somewhat content, and paid just a bit of attention to something about giant piranhas.

It was only about fifteen minutes later when Whelp spoke again, tired but refusing to sleep. "I'm not crazy."

Spike raised his brow. "No one said you were, pet." He paused for a moment, realized that someone might have while he was gone and even worse that it pissed him off. "Did someone say…?"

Xander shook his head. "No. No one said anything. Just me being me, I guess. I kinda felt…" Another shrug. Helpless silence. "Giles said he would take me back to Sunnydale if I wanted. That Willow could stay and I could come visit when I felt up to it. He said that he would tell the college he's working at to find someone else and that we would just go home." The laugh that followed was anything but happy. "Think that I would have to be a little crazy for Giles to just offer to take me home like that."

Spike curled his knee up, wanting to ask if Whelp was going home, but instead settled on something somewhat comforting. "Don't think that makes you nutters, pet. Think it means the Watcher cares about your well-being."

"Yeah," Whelp said, completely unconvinced. "Yeah, you're right."

A few more minutes of silence as piranhas on screen ate someone or something…who knew. After a while though, Spike's curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "So…you leaving for Sunnydale tomorrow?"

He shook his head, tilted his head back against the wall, closed his eyes. "No. I want to stay."

Spike nodded and watched the boy get comfortable as he could while sitting up. He didn't try to tell the Whelp to lie down; knew it wouldn't do any damn good. He let Xander fall asleep where he was, and left the telly on, feeling it would keep whatever demons followed the boy well away as he went to shower.

He returned to the same scene and actually felt happy that he would get to have this scene all summer.