Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

A/N: After watching True Blood (and reading the books which are much better) and Vampire Diaries, I have decided to play around with the idea that vampire blood heals in the Buffyverse too. I love Spike and Xander's interactions in the show that are friendly, but also antagonistic, and wanted to write more fics that show that. Hope you enjoy!

Help

Spike grimaced as the angry shouts drifted down the stairs to the basement. A bloke couldn't get any sleep around here with that noise. He wished he wasn't tied to this chair, and he wished he didn't have the chip so he could make the noise stop. When he heard the yelp and the thud, he wished he didn't have the chip for another reason, too.

As Xander hurried down the stairs after locking the door behind him, Spike took note of the bruise blossoming across his cheek.

"Is it broken," Spike asked.

Xander's head snapped up as he locked eyes with Spike for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor. "I don't think so."

"You sure? Might need to get that checked out."

"Can't afford it if it is," Xander confessed, unbuttoning the work shirt he had on and throwing it over his desk chair, leaving him in jeans and a white undershirt. "So I'll just have to hope it's not." He slipped his shoes off by the door and threw his socks into the hamper.

Spike frowned. "Let me take a look. Seen a few in my day."

"Probably caused a few too," Xander said with a small laugh, grimacing when the action pulled his cheek. Despite his words, he walked over to where Spike was sitting, leaning over a little, but not too close.

Spike leaned up a bit to get a better look. "I don't think it's broken. Be easier to tell if you untied me, but," he added as Xander began to protest, "it still might be fractured. You should go to the hospital."

"Can't afford it," Xander said as he straightened up again and walked to the bathroom to get his first aid kit. Maybe he had some ointment.

"Could the witch do a spell?"

"She's not supposed to be making with the magics right now," Xander replied sadly. "I wouldn't ask her, even if my jaw was hanging off my face."

"You're a good friend, Harris," Spike said.

All was quiet for a few moments while Xander rummaged through his supplies. A muffled curse floated from the bathroom to Spike's ears and he guessed the whelp hadn't found anything.

"Hey, Xander," he said as the boy walked back from the bathroom, a defeated slump to his shoulders.

"What?"

"Maybe I can help."

"I can't take your money, Spike. Even a loan. Maybe I can use some of my savings and pick up some extra hours at work."

"Wasn't offering money." Spike shifted in his chair. "I've got something better than even a spell to fix you up."

"And what's that?" Xander eyed the vampire suspiciously.

"Blood."

The single word hung in the air for several heartbeats as both men stared silently at one another.

Spike expected Xander to shout something like "Gross," and run out of the room, or punch him before throwing him out of the house, but he did neither. He just stared at him speculatively for a few moments before speaking calmly.

"What would that do?"

"Vampire blood could heal that right up. And you know I can't hurt you with this chip in my head, so there's no danger of me turning you. It's just to patch you up."

"Why?"

Spike wondered if he should tell the truth, a partial truth, or lie. His eyes flickered over the bruise as he decided what Xander could handle. Xander could probably handle the truth, but he also might use it against Spike if given the chance. They weren't exactly friends, and the boy didn't like him that much. A partial truth, then. No need for the boy to know he was Spike's favorite Scooby, or that when Angel offered Xander to Spike it held more weight than either of them would ever tell him. Xander was Spike's White Hat. The only one of them he would never kill, even if given the perfect chance.

"You let me stay here without turnin' me out into the sun. Makes you special."

Xander snorted. "'Special.' Right."

Spike wasn't about to get all touchy feely with the boy. Xander hadn't earned that yet. "Do you want me to heal it for you or not?"

"Do you just rub it on my face or do I have to drink it?"

The wrinkling of Xander's nose checked Spike's sarcasm just before a biting remark about Xander's intelligence could escape his mouth. Of course the boy didn't see the appeal in drinking a vampire's blood. He'd never had it before. If Spike could get him to drink his blood, Xander might even become an unwitting ally should the Slayer decide Spike had outlived his usefulness. Spike genuinely liked the boy and wanted to help, but he was also all about taking advantage of opportunities when they arose.

"You'd have to drink it, but it isn't as bad as you think," Spike assured him. "Sure, it's a little weird if you think about it too hard, but you don't need to overthink it. Just think of it like medicine. It might not taste really good to you, but it'll make you feel better."

Xander hesitated for only a moment before nodding his head. "Okay."

"Okay?" Spike was surprised. He really hadn't expected that.

"Okay," Xander repeated. "I can't afford to go to the hospital, and my jaw really hurts." Xander took a deep breath and lightly rubbed the bruise. "So, how do we…"

Spike offered a gentle smile. "Come down here, and I'll just offer you my hand."

"Do I have to bite hard enough to break the skin," Xander asked, kneeling next to Spike's chair.

"I'll handle that part," Spike assured him, waiting until the boy had settled comfortably onto the floor.

His hands weren't tied to the chair anymore, just his arms above his elbows, so Spike lifted a hand to his mouth, craning his neck to reach, vamping out briefly as he bit down on the tender flesh of his palm. When the fang marks welled with blood, he offered his hand to Xander, allowing his face to return to normal so as not to frighten the boy.

As the blood pooled in his palm, Xander eyed it dubiously, but took Spike's hand in his own to steady it as he leaned down to sample the offering. With the very first sip, Xander could feel a heady rush coursing through him, and latched on to the wounds, gripping Spike's hand as he held it to his lips. He could also feel his bruised jaw beginning to heal. Something in his jawbone snapped together and he grunted, but did not stop drinking Spike's blood. The pain was beginning to recede, and the taste wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. In fact, as the seconds ticked by, and the pain faded to an unpleasant memory, Xander found himself unable to stop. He knew he was better, knew that he should pull away, but couldn't. He drank deeply from Spike's palm, tongue coming out to lap at the wounds when they tried to close, eager to keep them open.

Those who craved vampire blood, craved that rush, suddenly made a lot more sense. Xander wondered if bite junkies, as they were commonly called, felt a similar rush. He glanced up at Spike briefly, wondering what it would feel like to have Spike's fangs opening his own veins.

And Spike wasn't stopping him. His blue eyes caught and held Xander's as the boy took what the Master vampire offered. He knew that the first taste was heady, knew that it could cause this response. He also knew that Xander needed this, needed to be taken care of, for once, so he allowed the boy to continue for a while. When he knew Xander had taken more than enough, he placed his other hand on the boy's head and carded his fingers through his hair, allowing his softer side to show.

"That's enough, Xander." Spike gently pulled his hand away, and as soon as the wounds were away from the delicate abuse that had kept them open, the marks closed, vanishing as though they had never been there.

Xander was panting heavily, as though he'd run a marathon. His eyes were glazed, and he swayed gently for a moment before he took a deep breath and shook himself. Rising to his feet, he walked to the bathroom to check his appearance. The bruise was completely gone, and his jaw didn't hurt. In fact, nothing hurt. None of the bruises he'd had from patrol last night, none of the scratches he'd gotten from work. The splinter that had been in his finger since early that morning was gone too. Xander felt better than he had in ages. Stretching his arms over his head, he tested his newly healed body. A grin spread across his face.

"Thanks, Spike," Xander said as he walked back into the bedroom. "I feel better than I have in a long time. Ever, in fact."

"You're welcome, whelp. Just don't go spreading it around. Wouldn't want my reputation to be ruined."

"I won't," Xander promised, still grinning as he stepped behind Spike and leaned down to loosen his bonds.

"What're you doing?" Spike could have cut out his tongue. Why was he questioning the boy when he was trying to free him? How could he be that stupid? He'd been spending too much time with Harris. The words just came out of his mouth without letting his brain catch up.

"I would think that would be obvious," Xander replied, casually letting the rope fall to the floor.

Spike rubbed his arms from where they had chafed between the rope and the chair. "What's to stop me from walking out that door now?"

"Nothing," Xander said, moving to sit on his bed. "Except that you might get caught again. You're safer with us than you are out on your own. You could even get a good fight in every once in a while if you agreed to help us with some slaying."

Spike frowned. The boy had a point. "So what do you suggest?"

"You can keep crashing here," Xander offered. "Just don't hurt my parents or burn down my house. Otherwise we'll all come after you and the humans can hold you still while Buffy stakes you. And if you stay here, you can become a productive member of our little group. Slaying monsters. Grabbing snacks. Whatever we need. I'm sure we'll eventually find out who did this to you. After all, that kind of technology probably isn't something an individual would have."

Spike nodded, impressed. Xander was smarter than he let people think.

"And what do you get out of this?"

Xander dropped his head shyly. "Um…well…maybe…" He trailed off.

Spike smirked, knowing where this was going. "What, whelp?"

Xander glanced back up and Spike dropped the smirk from his face, wanting the boy to ask for it.

"Maybe you could help me again, with the medicinal healing, I mean. You know, if I get more…injuries from patrol…and stuff."

Spike nodded. "Guess I could keep helpin' for now."

Xander's eyes widened as a grin stretched across his face. "Really?"

Spike shrugged. "Sure. But you'll have to make sure to keep your fridge stocked with blood. Otherwise the 'medicine' will run out."

Xander nodded, more eagerly than he realized. "I can do that."

Maybe one day Spike could convince Xander to give him a taste of the good stuff flowing beneath his veins, but Spike knew that day wouldn't come for a long time, if ever. Still, he thought as he watched Xander settle in to sleep, he had more of a chance than he'd had earlier in the day, and that changed a lot of things.