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14 October 2013 @ 03:04 am
My Eyes Breath Fire For Time Has Bled Me of My Dreams. Act: ONE  
Title: My Eyes Breath Fire For Time Has Bled Me of My Dreams.

Entry: fall_for_S/X: Season Ten (October 15th 2013)

Author: Sheppsboy

Fandom(s): BTVS

Characters: Spike,Xander,Drusilla,Jesse,Buffy,Willow,Giles

Pairing(s): Spike/Xander past Jesse/Xander

Rating: NC-17

Beta (s): Unbeta'd but proofread

Disclaimer: I do not own these lovely boys, if I did that would be human trafficking. Joss is the one who holds title and deed to them! (Sheppsboy sighs to himself)No money is being made from this.

Genre: Slash

Warnings: suicide, child abuse, character death, graphic violence,Masturbation,underwear sniffing, attempted rape, rimming,homophobia, heavy angst, gay stereotypes, gratuitous interpretations of Greek and Roman Mythologies, Buffy is depicted as a selfish girl that is obsessed with gay men, I mean like an insane stalker. Trust me I have met teenage girls like this, and last but not least hints at unrequited Xangel.

Spoilers: None kind of AU

Word count: 25,513

Summary: Ancient forces are at work to bring Spike and Xander together, while Spike travels through Oceans of time to save his Xan-Pet. Will he succeed in winning his heart before the clock winds down? Or will Xander be lost to him forever?

Notes: the song that Drusilla sings is from the movie Hocus Pocus, it is called come little children. There is a portion of The Tremere Oath taken from the RPG Vampire: The Masquerade. Chapter titles are taken from the song I Dreamed a Dream, from Les Mis.

"Some day, after we have mastered the tempests and the waves, the tides and gravity, we will harness
the energies of love.And, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire."

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Act One: I Dreamed a Dream In Time Gone By.

October 18th 1984:

The harvest moon hung bright red like a blood engorged tick bloated in the night sky, the autumn crisp wind wailed it's mournful cries so hauntingly it would make Satin's blood run cold.

On this night, a five year old boy lay huddled in his bed, covers pulled up over his head trembling.

He was not scared of the wind, nor was he frightened of the bogey man,  for, in his short young life, he had learned that there were far more frighting things then what his small mind could possibly conceive.

 In this ramshackle house, in the dark, there lurked a real monster-- one of flesh and blood, one who left tangible proof of his existence in the blaring light of day.

This child who felt such fear was named Alexander Lavelle Harris. Such a large name for such a small child. A hero's name for sure, but little Alexander did not feel like a hero. He let harsh words, name calling and feelings of worthlessness control him. Alexander made his mommy cry every-time she looked at him. All that she had endured was his fault she told him so.

It was his fault she had to drop out of high school and marry his daddy. It was his fault she had no life and alas, it too was his fault his daddy drank so much and hit him and his mommy. It was all because she had to carry him in her tummy. A loud crash came from the living room. The monster was home. He roared so loudly it made little Alexander's ears hurt; causing the boy to scoot farther down into the protection of his blankets. Alexander rocked himself, crying hugging himself. He was the only one to offer himself any type of comfort. Neither his mommy nor his daddy ever touched him; and if they did it hurt. If it was not for his best friends Willow and Jesse, Alexander would starve. His mommy and daddy never bought food. They only bought bottles of vile smelling amber liquid. Once, little Alexander was so hungry, he took a sip from his mother's glass. He learned his lesson after that. The cast didn't come off his arm for a year.

October 31st 1984:

Halloween night, and  Alexander was yet again left alone in his room. His mommy and daddy had  gone out to the bar. He sat in the dark crying, daring not to turn on the light; because he did not want to be blamed for the light bill again. When he heard the most beautiful voice. It was a woman's voice, and she was singing.

Come Little Children I'll Take Thee Away;

Into A Land Of Enchantment,

Come Little Children,  The Time's Come To Play;

Here In My Garden Of Shadows.

Follow Sweet Children; I'll Show Thee The Way;

Through All The Pain And The Sorrows.

Weep Not Poor Children For Life Is This Way;

Murdering Beauty And Passions,

Hush Now Dear Children It Must Be This Way,

Too Weary Of Life And Deceptions.

Rest Now My Children For Soon We'll Away,

into The Calm And The Quiet:

Come Little Children I'll Take Thee Away,

Into A Land Of Enchantment.

Come Little Children The Time's Come To Play :

Here In My Garden Of Shadows.

Alexander was transfixed by the voice. He gently climbed to the window-parting the sheet that passed for a curtain- and peeked out. The woman was accompanied by a man with hair so white it glowed  phosphorescent in the moon's light. He was dressed in a leather jacket and made Alexander think of the funny people that Jesse sometimes watched on TV ; ones that sang kinda loud. The lady, was dancing in the street. She wore a beautiful purple velvet and lace gown with black satin ribbons on the puffed sleeves that laced up to her shoulders. Her skin was like porcelain; like one of his Nana's dollies, the woman seemed to glow with a light blue effervescence. The light of the moon catching in her Raven's black mane, illuminating her long flowing tresses casting hues of blues and greens. To Alexander she looked like a fairy queen from one of Willow's books.

Alexander blinked and the couple were gone. In another blink, the woman was right there at his window. Smiling down at him. Her long sharp talon-like crimson nails scraping against the window pane; leaving jagged lines in their wake .

Alexander was startled from the strange woman's gaze, when a loud noise came from the living room.  It sounded like wood splintering and his father's rifle going off-as the front door was kicked in. Alexander jumped down and crawled underneath  his bed and huddled into the corner. The monster was home and he would hurt the boy again if he found him. He held his breath, his little heart was racing as he tried to hold back the tears. He watched in horror as two dainty red slippers and a pair of biker boots stopped in front of his bed. He heard a women speaking  in a sing-song voice. It was calming and soothing.

“Kitten, mummy is home. You need not fear me so; your colors are like fishies all red--and blue--but not black--never black. Come little kitten, oh, oh, ahhhhhh. The stars have told me that you are to be our little kitten, to love for all time. Come little kitten, my Spikey will protect you from the 'bogey man'.”

Suddenly the room was flooded with light as the over-head was turned on. The bed was lifted,  as Alexander's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that it was the man with white hair--who was holding the bed with one hand. They both did look like fairy's from a story book a--princes and her black knight. The woman knelt down and coaxed Alexander from under the bed with a white pillow case filled with candy-well it was mostly white, save for the splotches of red. He took a sugar daddy from the bag. as he opened the wrapper he climbed into her arms. She held him close to her cold breast and stroked his messy brunette head.  He looked down at the hand; that  was holding him and noticed that what he thought was red nail lacker covering her long sharp nails was actually a thick sticky red substance that reminded him of his Nana making candied apples in the fall.

The man who had the face of an angel began to speak. His voice was funny, and it made Alexander smile.

“ 'ere now poppet, wat's yer name then? “

Alexander laughed and replied in his small voice, “ my name's Xander  sir.”

The woman started laughing and nuzzling him. She smelled like grandma, pressed flowers and potting soil. But underneath there lingered  the smell of dried dead leaves and ancient rot. Alexander looked up at the man who was ruffling his hair. The man  “Spikey,”  kissed the woman on her forehead and mumbled something to her. For the first time, in Alexander's young life, he felt safe and in the arms of this strange unearthly Queen of Fairy he felt loved.

They stayed with him in the room. Alexander sat on the floor, as the woman played dolls with him. Her dolly, Miss Edith, and his bear Teddy had a tea party while the Knight stood statue still guarding the door.

It was midnight when Tony and Jessica Harris finally came home, they where so drunk  that they staggered right through the broken door without even realizing it had been torn off it's hinges, little Alexander had fallen a sleep in the Fairy Queen's arms, she was still rocking  him and humming soft lullabies as, she stared into the living room from the open door. Her face morphing back and forth from game-face to human, she was  livid, Spike's face morphed instantly, his features changing from that of the Fairy Knight into a mockery woven from nightmares, his eyes glowed yellow in the dark of the living room, before Tony could even get a foot hold in the child's bedroom, Spike had him by the throat, “ Wat! You  a big man now? Tosser, beaten' a little boy! How's it feel to come face to face with the real big bad!” The sound of bones crunching in his hands were satisfying, Jessica too was similarly dispatched but, not before Spike had a little fun. He ripped the still beating heart from the woman's chest, put it to his lips and savored  the taste of her warm rich blood.

Twenty Four Hours Earlier:

Dru and Spike had gone back in time to prevent his Xan-Pet's suicide. In the original time-line, Xander Harris had killed himself on his seventeenth birthday; after his father had discovered he was gay. The boy was beaten within an inch of his life, and no one knew, no one cared. His friends, as usual were oblivious to the boy's pain. They were so consumed with there own lives and destinies to know what Xander was dealing with on a daily basis. Xander had lost yet another job, due to his nightly patrols on the Hell Mouth. All Buffy could do was laugh at the doughnut boy for being such a loser. She didn't mean to be unkind, she simply did not know what was going on with Xander.

Xander had confided in Spike that he always knew he was gay; had known since he was a small boy; and that his boyfriend Jesse had died. He could never forgive himself for being the one who had staked him. Spike held the lad all night while he cried. And mourned the love of his life. At that moment Spike knew he loved him; knew he would do anything for his Nummy. However, he was too late old man Harris, who had taken everything from the boy his--dignity and his self--worth. Had come down for the rent money. Xander told him he had lost another job, and in his grief that he was gay. Tony Harris became so enraged that he broke an arm from a chair proceeding to beat the boy until his meaty arm gave out. He told him that he'd better get his shit out because “weren't no faggot gonna be  living under his roof.” Spike had been off helping Buffy kill a Pied Piper. He was supposed to be back at the basement. He promised his Nummy they would go out to the movies. However, when he arrived at Xander's place it was too quiet. As he entered the dank, dark place, he noticed the broken chair. Spike could smell his Xan-Pet's blood, Spike called for him but there was no answer. He scanned the room noticing a piece of the boy's shirt sticking out of the wardrobe, Spike walked to the closet. What he found made his knees buckle. Xander was hanging--his throat wrapped in coaxial cord. The boy's once beautiful sun kissed skin now ashen and cold; his lips once full and lush now blue from the kiss of death.

Spike carefully pulled the boy down from the closet and held him in his arms. He felt sick. Such a waste of life and he knew all about wasted life-he had taken many over the years. When he was still William and chasing Cicely writing his god awful poetry. He had no allusions that his life would have been wasted had he not met his dark princess in that ally. But Xander; he was such a white hat; he had so much to offer the right bloke. He was courageous, loyal, and sweet it was all Spikes fault . He should have been there  to protect the boy. Xander was his responsibility; his grand-sire had gifted him the boy; it was a master's job to take care of their pets. Over time, Xander had become more then a pet. somewhere along the way, Spikes' demon had come to think of the boy as family. As a childe Spike had left what was his to the cruel hands of a monster, a human far more vile then Angelus ever could be. He held the boy's lifeless body  in his arms and gently sobbed crimson tears. Xander was the love of his life. Even if he never would think of sleeping with him, Spike knew that Xander deserved a living bloke; one he could live his mortal life with; even without the chip in his head, Spike knew he would never harm the boy. he would have put him up in a posh flat if Xander hadn't been so stubborn and insisted on making his own way.

The boy's plight called to something inside Spike's Victorian sensibilities. in his time young men were not allowed to leave home before they were of age. Spike wanted to take care of what was his and  give the boy everything. It was too  late now. In the dark, Spike sobbed holding his Xan-Pet to his chest, weeping for his loss.

When Willow found out that Tony Harris was on the run from the police for  possibly murdering his son; she became angry; her bottom lip trembled as she sobbed in Spike's arms without  giving it a second thought, her mind began formulating a plan.

Drusilla showed up the very  next day saying, “Miss Edith was maudlin 'cause a kitten had been de-clawed.” she promised that her boy's kitten would be avenged.

Willow found a spell in one of Giles' old dusty books and Drusilla helped “the Willow tree” gather the ingredients. They went to the graveyard under the cover of night,  Willow chanted in her circle. “ I summon thee gate keeper, he who guards the four passages of paradise, by my will and mine alone, I beseech thee oh great Phobos. Open the gate so that innocence may be avenged. Great god of men who have been wronged--I ask that thou make right this trespass committed against thy most lowly son.”

She began to glow bright blue as light shot from her eyes and mouth. The beams hit both Spike and Dru, causing them to dematerialize and reappear in the past. Spike instantly realized they were on Xander's street and it was Halloween judging by the bits. They each had three agate stones in their possession. Red had told them that time travel was tricky. If they got it wrong they would have to break the stones and they would be propelled through time to another instance of  Xander's youth. There was another thing he realized; Dru and him  were in their past bodies--that meant no chip. Spike smiled devilishly and whispered that he would have his revenge.

His Xan-Pet was so small and frail as Dru clutched him close to her bosom, holding him like he was one of her precious dolls. They ran through the streets of Sunnydale using their preternatural speed, so that they would appear invisible to any bi-standers. They moved with stealth until they came to the old abandoned mansion--the one that in another time and place had been Angel’s lair.

It took no time for William Pratt and his lovely wife Drusilla, along with their darling son Alexander, to get settled in to their new home. Spike acquired fake I.D.’s and a birth certificate for Xan from a Rakshaw demon; the Rakshaw were renowned for their mystical forgery, the Rakshaw even gave him a necklace for Xander that would change his appearance so as not to draw attention from those who might recognize the boy.

Spike taped into his rather sizable off shore Swiss bank accounts. For many years he didn’t even want to touch the bloody money--due to the fact his grand-sire had set it up for him and Dru--but now was a different story, he had a wife and a small human child to provide for. So, Spike slowly became something that resembled his former self--before he felt the need to prove himself to Angelus, gone were the dock martens; replaced by soft lambskin Italian loafers. His wardrobe also changed. He no longer looked like a Billy idol ripoff, instead he appeared the proper English gentleman in his hand Tailored suit and soft un-gelled curls. Now that his old identity had been re-established, he dropped the facade of his Mockney accent--his speech reverting back to it’s former Victorian diction.

The First Five Years:

Life in the “Dale” was wonderful for the Pratt's. William had even filled their home with minions, or servants, as MasterAlexander liked to call them. Drusilla had made it quite clear from the start that no one was allowed to “snack on her kitten.” She punctuated this statement by dismembering a minion who had dared enter Alexander's room one night. The foolish minion was just about to bite the boy when Dru grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and staked him. Then and there, she was coming to bring her boy a late night snack of fresh baked chocolate chip scones and a glass of warm milk; when she caught the fiend. Young Alexander, now ten years old, yawned and stretched his eyes squinting in the bright lamp light. “Mummy is something a mater?” The young boy asked in his perfect Londoner accent. Years of being with his parents had wiped away his horrid Californian dialect. Drusilla although barmy as could be, simply smiled at her kitten, and leaned down kissing him on the cheek; always mindful to be full of blood so that her kisses were warm. “No kitten, mummy wants to tell you a story. My little lamb oh, and look what mummy has for her precious.” She handed him the scrumptious scones.  That Spike had--baked along with the warm milk that contained a small dose of her own blood, she sat on the edge of his bed and she began to weave a fanciful tale of an Elvin prince that was stolen from his kingdom of the night and raised by ugly ogres. When she had reached the part about the queen and her consort scouring the kingdom in search her lost child, she noticed Xander had again fallen asleep. She leaned down and again kissed her kitten on the cheek, tucked him in and turned off the gilded tiffany lamp by his bed.

Present Day: June 15th 1999

Alexander  William Pratt sat in the coffee shop reading a novel about vampires. He laughed to himself about the gross inaccuracies. For one thing, his Mum an Da could not walk in the sun nor did they sparkle, trashy novels aside, he was here to watch the barista. He was breath-taking; tall and muscular; with dark brown spiky hair and he had an earing which made him look dangerous. Xander liked bad boys. For the longest time, he thought it might be some Freudian thing. Xander simply liked men that reminded him of his Da .

All hard muscle and lithe, compact in all the right places. This Jesse boy hit all of Xander’s bells and whistles.

Earlier that morning 8:30 am:

Today was Xander’s birthday. He awoke finding a note on his bed side table, written in his     Da’s eloquent--script.

“Dearest Alexander,

My son, it has come to my attention that today is your sixteenth birthday. My, where has the time gone? It seems just yesterday you were my little poppet clinging to your mother's skirt. Oh bother, I seem to have gone on a bit of a tangent whilst strolling down memory lane. Now, were was I? Oh yes, your mother has informed me that you have indeed acquired your driver's permit. I have taken it upon myself to procure you a fitting present. You will notice in the envelope there is a set of keys. Do take them and promptly go to the front yard were you will see, my dear boy your chariot awaits.

Love always,

 your father.”

Xander very nearly shite himself when he saw what his father meant by “chariot.” There in his drive way was a 1962 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II, with cherry paint. It was in mint condition. On top of the car was a giant white satin bow with an equally giant tag. The words scrawled in his father's delicate copper plate calligraphy. “Alexander.” Xander thought, “won't that divvy bint Cordelia Chase, simply go mad when she See's my birthday gift?” Xander could not wait to see Queen Pikey's face.

Present: The Sunnydale Perk.

For weeks now, Xander had stalked that poor Jesse boy. From the moment the coffee house opened till it closed, Xander was there. He always sat at a table nearest the window and he always read a book. His dearest mum had told him, once he had come out to them, that “if one wished to attract a gentlemen caller, one must show him that one is available, but, don't be too  available Luv, or else he'll think you a slut.”  Before she could get a wale-bone corset on the boy, his father had promptly pulled Xander aside and told him not to listen to his mum, because her trolley  had left the track ages ago. He told him to be himself and that if any bloke couldn't see how special he was, well, then that just wasn't the bloke for him.

Of course Xander thought bemused, that  the car couldn't hurt his chances in bagging one Jesse McNally.

It had grown quite late, Xander was so engrossed in ogeling his handsome barista, that he had completely lost all track of time. He would have  been ever so happy to stay in his spot fantasizing about those strong callused worn hands scraping across his sensitive nipple forever. However, he was rudely pulled from his fantasy right before he could lick McNally's soft musky balls; by a warm hand on his shoulder, a rough callused warm hand. Xander slowly looked up into the smirking face of the object of his teen-aged wet dreams.

Behind his smirk and self-confident appearance, Jesse was a nervous wreck. For years Jesse had seen Xander Pratt around Sunnydale High. Had watched him fearlessly stalk the halls with his Xan Band, flanked with Cordelia and her Cordette's. It was no secret that Xander's parents hailed from England. It was even rumored that they were some sort of royals in exile.  It was well known that Cordelia chase only hung around Xander because of his wealth. She even tried to date him once, she was utterly mortified when the Pratt boy smiled at her lecherously, and stated “sorry ducks but I am, as they say, strictly dickly.” Poor Cordelia was relegated to the ranks of Fag Hag her hopes of marrying up dashed by the handsome young Londoner.

All humor aside, Jesse had a secret-he was in love with Xander Pratt, who wouldn't be-the young man was sex on legs; well dressed and possessing a natural swimmers build.  Jesse longed to run his hands along that tan, muscular bare chest. Jesse wanted nothing more then to lay between Xander's spread legs  licking his way from Xander's inner thigh; inhaling his warm spicy scent; feeling his soft freshly washed pubic hair tickling his face. Jesse would lie awake at night picturing Xander naked stroking his hard cock, watching the pre-cum gently trickling down the opening, glistening as Xander worked himself in front of him. On these nights, Jesse would push his underwear off until he lie naked under his sheets. He would bring his briefs up to his face and inhale his own rich musky scent; imagining that it was Xander's intoxicating bouquet. Jess would open his mouth and gently suck the crotch of his underwear; tasting his own pre-cum  deposited there; thinking of what Xander's must taste like. Was it sweet or salty? His right hand would slowly move down. The feel of the fresh cool sheets on his throbbing hard cock sending shivers down his spine. Jesse would take his own cock in his hand and slowly work it it back and forth; tugging on the foreskin taking his other hand and tugging at his balls. He wondered if Xander was cut or uncut, like him ? He would think of Xander kissing him. The feel of his full plump lips, the feel of his stubble as it grated with his own. The slow raspy burn igniting his senses. Jesse would stroke himself faster and harder until he came, panting Xander's name; with tears in his eyes; Jesse would cry himself to sleep; knowing he would be alone for the rest of his life. For him being gay simply was  not an option.

 These were merely fantasies. Xander would never want Jesse. Jesse was a loser who worked at The Sunnydale Perk.  Jesse lived in his parent's basement, and Jesse was afraid to let anyone know he was gay; to do so, would  cause his Southern Baptist preacher of a father to disown him. So yes, Jesse was a bundle of nerves looking at this beautiful young man who had utterly captivated him and plagued his dreams; from the moment he laid eyes on him.

Xander could see the sadness in Jesse's eyes. He knew who the boy's parents were. Hell, everyone did. Rev. McNally was the most vocal when Xander suggested forming a GSA in Sunnydale High. The  tosser had even deigned to make his presence known that evening, along with fifteen of his congregates, holding signs outside the school. And even  going so far as to threaten to boycott  the school. He had even threatened to pull all the children from his church out of school if they insisted on indoctrinating them with that “perverse lifestyle.” Luckily for Xander, money talks and bull shit walks. his mother and father showed up that night and offered to pay for a new gymnasium. Needless to say Schneider caved, and the GSA was formed post haste.

Xander looked at his watch  and saw  that it was six thirty at night. He smiled at Jesse. He knew that the Perk would be closing soon. If he was going to get his chance, he would have to act fast. So, Xander did what any red blooded teen would do, he asked, “ see here Jesse, I know that this establishment is closing soon, and I was wondering if I could give you a lift?” Jesse' heart was beating a mile a minute. Xander Pratt; THE Xander Pratt; was asking to  actually spend time with him, in the same place? Jesse agreed shyly-little did Xander know that this would be the last time he would see Jesse alive.

Since this Xander was not a Scooby, and had never even acknowledged the slayer's existence, he was unaware that Buffy had slept-with Angel thereby giving him that one true perfect moment of happiness- Angelus was back and he was roaming the streets stalking Jesse; the slayer's little puppy boy. Angelus hated him. He was disrespectful. Angelus would have his revenge.

The two boys left the Perk holding hands. As Jesse was locking up, a tall massive man in leather pants came from the shadows and grabbed him from behind, and  placing both hands around  the boys head jerking them quickly to the left, until Jesse's neck cracked. Angelus dropped the dead boy to the ground as though he was nothing more then garbage. He turned to a very frightened Xander. This was Spike,s failing he never should have taught the boy  that vampires were his friends. All Xander had known of Vampires, from an early age, was that of his mother and father. And of course the servants,  it was too late, Angelus grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him from the ground. Sniffing him, Angelus began to laugh. “Boy you smell like my chide and grand childe. Hmm, they must have been keeping you as a present.” Xander did not know what to do. Before he could speak he felt the fangs tearing into his jugular vein; as Angelus drained the boy until he was lifeless; this is how Alexander Harris died for  a second time, and yet again Spike was too  late to save his Nummy.

Later That Very Evening:

It had been some time since William and Drusilla rose from their slumber. The sky had darkened over Sunnydale, casting a veil of shadows across the landscape and still Alexander had not come home yet.  This wasn't like the boy. He was always home before the street lights came on.  Drusilla was beside herself, screaming and ripping her hair out  in huge bloody chunks.

“ Spike I want my kitten. The stars speak  such naughty things, things  about daddy and kitten. They say the kitten is lost to us.”

Drusilla continued shrieking. All Spike could do was think of the mad seer's words, daddy, Angelus? Did she mean Angelus had Xander? If Spike's heart could beat it would have stopped in his chest. He felt cold and empty. He had to find his Nummy. Just as Spike was about to turn and leave, the room, a car was heard pulling into the drive way. Spike went to the window and parted the curtain slightly to look out. there in the drive way was Xander's car. As the headlights went off, Spike calmed slightly. He was about to tell Drusilla their boy was home, when the driver's door opened and Angelus got out.  Spike's grand-sire walked to the trunk, and popped it. Spike couldn't see what he was doing until he came around front carrying two human bodies over his shoulders. Angelus began to yell,

“William my boy, have I got a surprise for you, daddy's home.”

Spike looked in the dark and saw that it was Xander and another young boy slung across Angelus' shoulders. their heads were bobbing at odd angles.

Spike prayed to the powers that Angelus had not harmed his boy.

The front door to the mansion was kicked open with such force it caused the chandelier in the great room to fall crashing to the ground. Angelus crossed the thresh-hold, into the living area, unceremoniously dumping the corpses at Spikes feet.  Angelus kicked the unknown boy until he rolled on top of Xander in a mockery of a lover's embrace. It was heart breaking for Spike to see a child he had raised, nurtured and watch grow into the beautiful man he was; lying there dead. Drusilla leaped from her chair scrambling to Xander's side. She grabbed the boy and drug him to a dark corner of the room hissing and screaming like a ferell cat.

Cradling the dead boy to her breast she cried.“ My kitten, speak to me Luv, mummy is here; everything will be alright. Mummy has you poppet, you're such a sweet little kitten. Mummy will get you cream, you'll see then everything will be  right as rain.” She ripped into her wrist with her sharp incisors. The blood came bubbling to the surface. She tried to force it into Xander's mouth, but it was of no use, the child had been dead far to long. Not even her dark blood was fertile enough to raise one who had crossed the veil. She keened clutching the boy until finally it became silent. With a measure of clarity, Dru walked from the shadows dragging Xander's lifeless body behind her like a Raggedy Andy doll.

“Daddy you've gone and done a naughty thing. The stars are weeping  crimson and the fishies have gone still, my poor kitten does not play, he does not jump. His mittens have been stolen, now there shall be no pie.”

Dru lunged at Angelus with a dagger raised high above her head. She would have stabbed him too, had it not been for  her delirium. She started hallucinating the fish taunting her and stabbing at the air. This afforded Angelus enough time to grab her wrist and spin her around. He squeezed it so hard she whimpered, causing the blade to fall to the ground with aloud clank. Angelus smirked at Drusilla,

“You raised your  hand to your sire? Girl because of this, you will be punished.”

He gleefully reached into her chest, his claws twisting until poor mad Drusilla screamed in pain. Angelus pulled her black shriveled heart from her chest. All that was left of Drusilla was what the wind did not blow from an open window. Angelus turned and walked towards Spike telling him that there was only room for one Masterof the Hell Mouth. And  that Spike would either submit to his rule, or follow his little family into the great unknown.

“ Tell me William, do you know where vampires go when they die?  I'd wager something without a soul goes strait to hell. Think of it, little Drusilla forever tormented for her sins; why she'll be more mad then she was when she was alive.”

Spike  could taste the rage on his tongue-feel it bubbling up from his grieving heart-at this fiends words. He had taken everything from him-his dark princess and his boy. Spike knew then and there, he would either kill his grand-sire or he would die and be with Dru and--Xander he had to move quickly.

Angelus must have saw something on his grandchild's face; a change in resolve; because before Spike knew what was happening, he was knocked to the ground by a powerful punch. The rustle of the fall caused one of the stones Willow had given him to fall from the pocket of his waist coat, hitting the ground, it exploded in a bright white light. When Angelus eyes had adjusted  he was alone in the room. Spike was no where to be found.

Current Location: Bedroom.
Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished
Current Music: Le Mis.
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
LiveJournal: pingback_botlivejournal on October 15th, 2013 03:29 am (UTC)
Saturday, October 12 - Monday, October 14
User rahirah referenced to your post from Saturday, October 12 - Monday, October 14 saying: [...] My Eyes Breath Fire For Time Has Bled Me of My Dreams [...]
The Mad Hattersheppsboy on October 15th, 2013 04:03 am (UTC)
Re: Saturday, October 12 - Monday, October 14
Thank You. :)
chaoskirchaoskir on October 15th, 2013 10:24 am (UTC)
Whoa! There was much love in this fic. So much. Thanks for sharing all the love!
The Mad Hattersheppsboy on October 15th, 2013 06:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you.
~ The Lady Merlin ~theladymerlin on October 27th, 2013 03:24 pm (UTC)
Very interesting and unique plot. I admit, I'm quite cross with Angelus right now.
The Mad Hattersheppsboy on October 27th, 2013 03:29 pm (UTC)
Iknow I wanted to reach into the computer and slap him...LOL and I wrote the damned thing....LOL
sparrow2000sparrow2000 on November 11th, 2013 11:25 pm (UTC)
Forgive me for being late to the party, I'm way behind in my fall_for_sx reading this year.

Interesting start. You've created a really dreamy fairy tale feeling at the start which works really well with the premise of the story. Of course like all our merry little band of Spander writers, you do like to make the boys suffer, but that's just fine. I'm looking forward to seeing where you take this. At least knowing it's complete I don't have to wait *g*
The Mad Hattersheppsboy on November 12th, 2013 02:52 am (UTC)
Thank you... :D
chaoskirchaoskir on July 17th, 2014 07:40 pm (UTC)
Oh wow! Great first act. Loved it. Thank you
The Mad Hattersheppsboy on July 17th, 2014 08:31 pm (UTC)
You are so very welcome...:)
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