Chapter 13

Xander hadn't left his room in almost a week. Angel and his team were working hard to find the mastermind behind the kidnapping, but despite now knowing that he was a vampire, they were no closer to finding out where they were, or why they wanted Xander in the first place.

Xander's wounds had been extensive: broken ribs, a fractured leg, dislocated shoulders, burns, cuts, scrapes, not to mention the internal damage. The marks from the whip were what had really made Spike's blood boil.

Spike had hardly left Xander's side. Every time Xander woke from a fitful rest, if Spike wasn't in the room, it would send the kid into violent panics. The first few days, Spike had let Xander feed every time he woke, first from his own veins, and then from carefully reheated mugs of pig's blood. He'd thrown in some other animals just for variety. The first time Xander had tasted cow's blood instead of pig's, after a startled glance at Spike, he'd mentioned how it reminded him of a rare steak.

Currently, Spike was helping Xander get out of bed so that he could test out the use of his legs. His injuries weren't healing like they should, and everyone was concerned. Xander leaned heavily on Spike for a few moments before taking a few tentative steps across the room. He swayed for a moment, but steadied himself and completed his trek across the room and back to Spike.

"I don't think I'm quite ready for the stairs yet, but maybe in a few days."

Spike nodded his agreement. "If you could tell us more about what happened, we might figure out why you're not healin' faster."

Xander ducked his head, as he always did when Spike suggested that. His reply was always the same. "I can't. Not yet."

This time, Spike upped the ante. "Not even for me?"

Xander's eyes snapped to Spike's face. Indecision warred on his face before settling into a sad resolve. "Not even for you, Spike."

Spike smiled sadly. "All right, then, whelp."

Xander smiled tentatively at his sire's acceptance before making his way back to the bed and sitting down heavily. Spike helped him lean back against the pillows before settling into a chair beside the bed, and picking up the book they'd started before Xander was taken.

Xander allowed Spike's voice to lull him into a restful trance.

An hour later, Angel stopped at the doorway, waiting for Spike to come to a natural stop. When Spike's voice trailed off, Xander stirred restlessly, before allowing the room to come back into focus. Spike turned a questioning gaze toward Angel, who strode carefully into the room. Xander tracked the older vampire until he came to a stop beside Spike's chair.

Angel let his gaze slide over Xander for a moment, but turned his attention back to Spike when the younger vampire ducked his head shyly.

"Wolfram and Hart heard about our work," Angel said as casually as he could. "They sent an envoy to tell us who they thought the mastermind was."

Xander tensed. If he'd been human, Angel knew his heart would be pounding in his chest. Spike laid the book on the table beside the bed.

"What did they say?"

"Nothing concrete, which I prefer. If they'd said who it was for certain, I'm sure they'd have been lying. They confirmed that it's a vampire who orchestrated the whole thing. They said he's not in LA, but they think he's somewhere in the states, possibly the east, so we'll have to reach out to some of our contacts to find out more about him."

Spike nodded. "At least we have a lead, right Xander?"

Xander swallowed hard before nodding.

Spike smiled softly. "It's time for you to eat again, whelp. Gotta get you healed up."

He moved to sit beside Xander on the bed and offered his wrist. Xander took it reverently, his face changing automatically as he drew closer to the smell of his sire's blood. He was gentle as his fangs penetrated the skin, and Spike felt little pain. Angel still looked uncomfortable, but this time he sat in the vacant chair, unable to take his eyes from the younger vampires. The selfish part of him said he deserved what they had, and the broody part of him said that he would have that too if only he'd been a better sire. The realistic part reminded him that he could never have the bond that Spike and Xander had. The two vampires were simply too unique, with or without souls.

When Xander was done feeding, Spike tucked him back into bed with a fond look and a soft caress of his hair. "Sleep well, Xan."

As Angel followed Spike from the room, he had an idea of how he could help Spike. He just wondered if the younger vampire would accept. Later, when they were both settled into Angel's office, and had exhausted all avenues of discussion about their perpetrator, Angel offered his suggestion.

"No."

Spike's reply was immediate, and Angel felt an irrational twinge of hurt. There was no reason Spike would have accepted, and Angel wasn't really surprised. Still, knowing why Spike had refused made it hurt all the more.

"Spike, this is the one thing I can do for you. For both of you. Let me."

"No." Spike's answer was resolute.

"You didn't even think about it." Angel wasn't sure why he was pushing this, only that, for some reason, he needed Spike to agree.

Spike stared at Angel for a long time. Neither vampire moved; neither even blinked.

"No. He doesn't trust you."

"You're blaming Xander now?"

"I'm stating a fact, Peaches. Xander doesn't trust you."

Angel sighed. "I just want to help, Spike."

He sounded so lonely that Spike leaned back in shock. He stared at Angel for another moment before standing to cross the room. He paused just before the window and looked out over the city.

"You and I still have some good memories mixed in with the bad," Spike began hesitantly. "Xander doesn't have good memories of you. He remembers being jealous of you because of the Slayer. He remembers arguin' with you. He remembers that Angelus stalked him and his friends, and killed Willow's fish. He remembers hating you." Spike turned from the window to face his oldest friend. "Xander's only good memories of you start in LA, when he came to town as my childe. His only good memories of you include me. And he accepts you now because he trusts me." Spike's emphasis could not be ignored.

"Why does he trust you? It couldn't have just started when you turned him." Angel finally asked the question he'd been so curious about for so long.

Spike chuckled fondly. "We were friends when he was human. Well, as close to friends as a human and vampire can be. I stayed in his basement for a while. Got to hear the lovely fights between his parents. Offered to kill them when the old man hit him too hard once and nearly broke his jaw. Didn't take me up on the offer, obviously, but I think he appreciated it. We patrolled together. We argued, and I teased him." Spike shrugged. "That's all."

"There must be more," Angel protested. If that was all, then potentially, he could have been friends with Xander…except for offering to kill his family.

Spike shrugged again. "Xander was…mine. My White Hat. From the moment I got the chip and had to stay at the Watcher's place. Even when the others were around, I took more pleasure in teasing the boy than any of the others. And when he let me stay in his basement, even though he could have protested, I recognized a bond there. We were friends, even before we knew we were friends." Spike frowned. "It's hard to explain."

Angel moved to stand by Spike. "I think I understand." In some ways, he did understand. Wesley was his human – the one who understood him better than the others somehow, the one he could run ideas by and not fear as much judgment, the only one he really trusted to stake him if he became Angelus again. In other ways, the bond between Spike and Xander was a mystery to him. He'd never had quite that connection with another person, or vampire.

Spike turned to face him fully. "Then you know why I can't ask that of Xander."

Angel nodded. "I understand now. But can you take it for yourself?"

Spike hesitated. He still didn't trust Angel fully either. But a little help would be nice, particularly since Xander wasn't healing as fast as he should.

He met Angel's gaze uncertainly, trying to gauge his sincerity, as though this too would be taken away only moments after it was offered. Angel met his eyes unflinchingly, hoping to show himself trustworthy. This was important. His family was important.

Finally, Spike nodded. He could do this for Xander. For himself.

As Angel held out his wrist, Spike's fangs descended and he drank deeply from his sire for the first time in decades, feeling the bond between them snap back into place.