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Bored Series - Sore Loser -- by Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Description: Spike gets nasty. Very nasty. If you're a big Xander fan, you might want to skip this one. Fair warning, sequel to Ties that Bind.
Note: Dedication -- To Charity. I'm writing--even with a heaving stomach--I'm writing!!!!:-)
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I own nothing. Story of my life.
Buffy was worried. Xander hadn't returned home last night. He wasn't at any of his usual haunts, and no one had seen or heard from him. First Willow, now Xander. And the slayer had absolutely no idea what was going on. Given time, she would unearth the evil--be it alive, dead, or somewhere in between--that had stolen her friends away. But she wasn't sure she had time. In fact, she had a gnawing feeling that time was running out.
In the dead and weedy garden outside the mansion, Angel watched the sure signs of hysteria welling up in Buffy's eyes. He moved close to her and pulled her into his arms.
"What the hell is going on? I don't understand any of this," she said against his chest.
"I don't know, but we'll figure it out," he told her.
She pulled away, "How, when we don't even know where to start? We don't even know if they're alive!"
"Buffy," Angel drew her back to him, "Come on, baby. We have to keep a clear head. It's the only way we'll be able to help them."
The slayer had never felt so weak, so ineffectual, and it scared her. She trembled as her nerves began to fray. Angel crushed her to him, willing her to draw from his strength, willing her to hang on. Slowly, she calmed herself. Angel relaxed his hold on her and looked down into her eyes. She smiled weakly.
"We will find them," he told her. "We will."
"What are you going to do with him?" Xander heard Willow's voice from across the room as he feigned sleep.
He had worked all day at loosening the ropes that bound his wrists and had succeeded in creating enough slack to pull one wrist free. After freeing the other hand, he'd untied the knots at his ankles and left the rope wound loosely around them. He would choose his moment carefully. He had to get back to Buffy and tell her what was going on. Then they could extract Willow from this mess.
A minuscule voice in a corner of his mind told him his childhood friend didn't deserve saving. She had willingly helped Spike, stood by while the son of a bitch had nailed him, gone eagerly to his bed where they'd fucked half the day away. Hell, she'd probably gotten off on the fact that he could hear every moan and scream.
But a louder voice told him how much better it would be to save Willow. When Spike was well and truly gone, they could bring her around. She'd spend the rest of her life agonizing over what she'd put him through, begging his forgiveness. He might even concede eventually, but things would never again be the same between them. She'd have to deal with that loss for the rest of her life. He wanted it to be a long misery.
Xander pushed back his fantasies as he heard Spike's low voice.
"The slayer must be out of what passes for her mind," Spike was saying.
"We'll hang onto him."
"You won't turn him?" Willow asked.
Spike looked at her distastefully, "And have that wanker following us around for the rest of eternity? Not bloody likely! I'll tell the boys to make a snack of him, though. Just enough to keep him weakened. If they can tolerate the taste of his blood, that is."
Xander heard Willow's giggle and silently damned her. His ears caught the sound of receding footsteps, and he opened one eye cautiously. They were heading for the doorway. Spike stepped out of the room ahead of Willow. Deciding it was now or never, Xander swept away the loosened ropes from his feet. He bolted from the chair and raced to the doorway. Willow turned in astonishment, and he flung her against the wall with all the strength he possessed. Willow yelped and crumpled to the floor.
Spike and half a dozen of his boys were on him before he ever reached the corridor. Spike's game face emerged. Growling savagely, he hit Xander with enough force to send him flying across the room. Xander heard the crunching of bones as he landed on his side. Spike's minions seized him. One of them threw his fist squarely into Xander's face, and the would-be escapee heard the sickening sound of cartilage breaking. The vampires hauled him to his feet. Xander gasped at the pain in his side where his ribs had cracked. Blood was pouring copiously from his nose.
"Hold him," Spike ordered.
Xander's ribs screamed for him to remain still as his attackers held him in a vise-like grip. Spike bent over Willow and placed two fingers on her neck. She was out cold, but her pulse was strong. He rose and strode over to the man who had injured his lover.
"You sodding bastard," Spike snarled. "I ought to rip out your throat."
Xander's body was wracked with such pain, he almost hoped Spike would make good on his threat, but his heart constricted in his chest as the blonde vampire's gaze dropped to Xander's pants.
"Off," Spike barked.
Xander was powerless to stop the minions has they unfastened and stripped off his pants. His eyes widened in frightened terror as Spike grabbed up a brass candlestick.
"Turn him," Spike ordered.
"No!" Xander screamed as he felt the cold metal against his bare ass. He struggled helplessly in the minions' grasp as they bent him over the chair from which he had so recently freed himself.
"You bloody bastard. I'm going to show you what happens to people who hurt what's mine," Spike's voice was low and hard.
He nodded at the two minions who were standing on either side of Xander's half-naked body. They grabbed his legs and pried them apart.
"No! God, no!" Xander begged with the little breath he could draw from his aching ribs. He screamed as he felt the tearing of tissue as the brass candlestick was rammed, full-length, into his anus. Spike's boys held fast to the writhing man as their master withdrew the weapon of torture and slammed it back in.
Xander felt a trickle of blood trailing down his legs as his mind succumbed, first to shock, and then to unconsciousness. The minions dropped him to the floor.
Spike looked down in satisfaction at the young man's broken body.
"Clean him up," he snapped. "And lock him in the basement."
He moved back to Willow and carefully lifted her in his arms. He carried her to the bedroom and undressed her and placed her under the covers. He ran his hands down her body, checking for broken bones. His mind eased with the knowledge that she was whole. Brushing away a strand of hair, he leaned over to kiss her softly. She moved slightly beneath him and opened her eyes. They registered confusion, but they were clear.
"Spike?" she whispered. "What happened?"
"That bastard took you out, luv," he told her. "We're lucky he didn't kill you."
"Xander? He hurt me?" she asked, searching her memory. "I remember. I turned around, and he was there. He--"
"I know, baby," Spike hushed her. "You're all right, though. Nothing's broken."
"Did you kill him?" she asked, half in fear, half in dread.
"No, pet, but he wishes I had," he promised her. "Anyone who ever hurts you will regret it."
Willow reached up to caress his cheek, and he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
She smiled wickedly, and Spike's still heart nearly jumped.
"Well, if I'm okay, why don't you come down here?" she suggested.
Spike chuckled and joined her in the bed.
The End
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