*****

The would-be rescuers had left them here to die. Yet he couldn't blame them-sodding bastards though they might be. The demons, who came to rescue their own, refused to free them. The boy-no, man, for there was little left of the boy anymore-was human and therefore the enemy. As for himself, even he could hardly call himself a demon anymore. It didn't matter that they were just as much victims as the other demons who had been imprisoned with them. There was no forgiveness for a vampire and the human that shared his cell and his fate. He vaguely wondered if he had begged for their freedom. He couldn't remember.

The silence was overpowering. He sharp ears couldn't detect the hum of air blowing or machinery working that had been an ever-present part of their existence here. The only sound came from a single flickering fluorescent bulb outside the cell. Emergency lighting probably. At least the demons had either killed or driven Them off it seemed. He could smell a massive amount of blood in the air that made his demon come to the fore and cry out for the sustenance he sensed was so close but was completely unreachable.

Gently he brushed the fingertips of the hand their captors had left him over his unwilling companion's hair. He ceased all movement as the young man stirred. They had returned him deeply unconscious an hour before the demons had arrived. There was no telling what their tormentors had done to the human this time. Silently he prayed to whatever deity that allowed evil like himself to exist in this world for even a few minutes more of sleep, and ease from pain for his companion, but as usual his prayers were not answered. His companion moaned. Cautiously he pulled the young man to him, careful not to entangle the chains that still bound their legs.

Tremors shook the thin body in his arms and he instinctively held tighter with his partially crippled arm so his companion would know who held him. He never knew exactly what They did with the young man when he was taken from the cell. All he knew was every time the boy was returned he was changed-sometimes physically, but always mentally. He wondered at first whether the Mengele wanna-bes were trying to make his companion reveal himself as a demon since he was consorting with them. Although fighting and consorting were not even close to the same thing in his mind. As the continually-twilight days passed he wondered if they were trying to turn the human into a demon as he watched the changes to the young man's body. By the time he lost track of time altogether, he stopped wondering at all.

He never wondered if he would be rescued for himself. He knew he had blown all his luck when he escaped from the Initiative. However, he had hoped for the boy. At least he thought he did. He was so hungry it was hard to think.

He tried to remember the first time the young man had let a vampire hold him for comfort, but the only times he could clearly remember were when They dragged the boy away from him-away from the only safe place he knew. He speculated at times whether the young man even realized there was a time the vampire's touch was something to be avoided and feared.

"Spike?" the thin voice quavered.

"Sh, Xander-pet. It's me luv, I'm here. You're safe. Safe as houses you are." These nonsense words were spoken over and over until they were partially believed. Hands moved across his back to his shoulders and he knelt back to allow the young man to explore at will. With an unneeded breath he ruthlessly forced his face back to his human visage. The hunger was too strong at this point to deny the demon for long, but he could do this for Xander. The young man's hands shook as they delineated his face, arms, hand and stump in a now-familiar ritual of recognition. He avoided looking at the shadowed hollows in the young man's face where his eyes should have been. He suspected their captors realized that Xander was damaged too badly to be of any other use to Them the day he started screaming the moment he left Spike's arms and didn't stop until the moment he was returned. The next day They sedated both vampire and human. When he awoke Xander was gone. When the young man was finally returned his eyes had been surgically removed.

"Spike." This time Xander's voice was firm. However, the touches continued.

"Yes Xander. It's Spike. It's OK. I'm not hurt," he soothed. Xander's mouth quirked in what passed for a smile these days. He willingly allowed the young man's hands to manipulate his body in whatever position he wanted for whatever touch he wanted. Xander knew he would lie about being hurt. Of course he would lie. He was a vampire. He was evil.

All five fingers and ten toes were counted, scars from where skin had been removed were cataloged, the slowly healing brand on his scrotum was indexed along with the dent in his side where ribs had been removed. Though fingers skimmed between his bum, over the slit of his cock and caressed his nipples, there was nothing sexual about this exam, merely someone trying to determine if his friend was lying. Or at least he hoped he was Xander's friend. You spend that much time with someone in your arms and you hope you are their friend. Xander never said.

Vampires didn't have friends. They had minions, childer, kindred, blood relations, even mates (although mated pairs were hardly common-even he and Dru-well, if he was honest, she didn't have enough of herself left to be someone's other half and he was too obsessed to want her as an equal anyway), but not friends. He had pondered what Xander was long and hard during the times he was alone, waiting for the human to be returned, terrified that he wouldn't be returned this time, and decided Xander was his mate. He had never heard of a human mate before, but who bloody gave a shite. He could have a human mate if he wanted. Who cared if no one, including his mate, ever knew it? Who cared if he and his mate would never hunt together or shag like weasels between the sheets. They were there for each other when they needed it, which was more than he could say for anyone else in his life-or death-unlife-whatever.

As willing as he was to be examined, he tried to avoid the hand reaching for his face. He had reverted to what the Scoobie's had called his 'game face' and wanted to spare Xander that horror. He wasn't sure he could force the demon back a second time.

"Spike, be still."

The order was quiet, almost silent, but it was an order. He froze in pleased shock. It had been so long since Xander demanded anything he would have smiled if he wore his human visage. As it was he carefully covered his teeth with his lips and held his face immobile.

Xander had long since learned the trick for calming the demon he was imprisoned with. Unfortunately this had become a necessary skill more than once. Gentle caresses following the ridges of the demon's face. What would be irritating from anyone else, as their captors found out to their chagrin, soon released tension in his muscles and had him panting lightly in pleasure. That's where he made his mistake. As his mouth opened, Xander took the opportunity to inspect inside. Sometimes his mate was too clever by half.

The demon howled in fear and agony when questing fingers probed the empty spot where his right canine should be. It howled again from the chip firing in his skull when he accidentally closed what was left of his very sharp teeth on his human's fingers. Sparks exploded behind his eyes, white-hot fire traced paths down his neck and spine.

".sorry, so sorry. Had to know. So sorry." Spike finally came back to himself enough to hear Xander's desperate tone, yet let himself continue to be soothed by his human for a few minutes before he felt he had himself under control enough to speak.

"Hush now. It's not so bad. It's only a tooth. I still have the other one." He gathered the human into his arms to make sure he knew he was safe, but when he saw Xander's bloody hand he couldn't help adding, "Don't you know better than to play with sharp objects?"

"Do now." Came the subdued reply, as the Xander brought his injured hand to his mouth.

"Stop that. Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?"

Chastened he held his hand to the vampire to be cared for as he had so many times before, although before the hurt was due to Them. Spike was grateful that Xander still held on to enough of himself that he realized the hurt was involuntary. However, the gore soaked fingers were tempting in the extreme. Their captors had underfed him, fed him reptilian blood, fed him spoiled blood, he wasn't sure of all he'd been fed. But now he was starved and this was blood, human blood, his mate's blood. He knew it would be good, better than good, better than best, and he would only get a taste.

"Xander." he creaked out helplessly, drawing the hand to his own mouth. It was almost worse to have this wondrous small taste than to continue starving, yet he couldn't let go. There just under the surface of skin was life. He couldn't suppress the tiny whimper that managed to escape.

"Spike, are you OK? I knew something was wrong. What else have They done? Are They here?" the last was said in a strangled whisper. Xander had a terror of being silently stalked these days for obvious reasons.

"No, hush no Xander, They're-gone!" He gasped, only just now realizing that he believed it.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean They are gone. Gone. They can't ever hurt you-us again. Can't you hear it? No one crying out. No footsteps. No infernal machines. They are gone."

Painfully he watched as comprehension slowly filtered into his companion's mind.

"Gone?" The young man seemed to shrink into himself as he tried to understand, as his worldview tore apart. He looked up at the vampire with his sightless gaze. "Gone?"

"Yes, gone forever." As he said the words, he willed them to be true with all his dead heart.

"We're free?"

Grief nearly tore him apart as he looked at the hope on his young man's face. Evil vampire he might be, but he wouldn't lie to his mate about this. He couldn't deceive him that much.

"No." he said with a leaden voice.

"Free." Xander returned decisively.

"No," he repeated and explained about the demons who killed their captors and rescued everyone but the human and his vampire. It was like he was speaking to the wind.

"Free." The human murmured, pressing his face into the vampire's neck.

"No." he cried. "Feel the chains still around our ankles? You know I can't break them. Even if I tore off my foot to get out of the chain I can't get us out of the cell. I can't feed you. I can't feed me. I can't keep you alive." He roared the last part with every bit of pain from the depths of his demon.

His face was stroked again. Conditioned as Pavlov's dogs, he was, to the touch of Xander's hands and voice. There was no telling how long it took, but the demon was eventually soothed and brought to heel. One hand moved from soothing to seeing mode, passing over his features with concern. Evidently Xander `saw' what he wanted.

Cupping Spike's face he reiterated, "Free. Free of Them," then pressed his lips against Spike's, unheeding of sharp teeth and ridges. If he was trying to spook Spike or get his undivided attention, he succeeded. "Free," Xander murmured yet again. Bemused he allowed the human to rub their cheeks together, but grew wary as the human arched so his fanged mouth slid along the warm enticing neck.

Xander had no clue just how sensual this was to the vampire. How tempting to the blood-starved creature he was. Or maybe he did. This was not the first time Xander had enticed his demon. Even with the control of the chip their captors had watched the pair and did not allow the behavior to go far. Xander had been removed almost immediately. When he had been returned, Spike was almost sure he'd been harshly punished, although Xander never admitted it. The warm neck caressed his lips for some time before Xander spoke.

"How hungry are you?"

"Enough." He grated. It wasn't like the young man couldn't guess. "Not so's I'd eat you, pet."

"Do we have any chance of getting out?"

"I don't see any off hand, but who knows what can happen."

More silence. More stroking. Spike could feel Xander's energy reserves depleting but the young man continued stroking.

"I'm thirsty."

Spike kept silent. What could he say? His mate was likely to get much more than thirsty towards the end. Would he become so tempted that he would try to feed from the young man even with the pain of the chip? The pain probably couldn't kill him. Which led to another thought. If he could bite, he could turn his mate. Except that would leave two starving creatures in the cell for who knows how long. He'd seen a starved vampire before. One of Angelus' projects, it had looked like an unwrapped mummy, all black and cracking. He'd been amazed at how little blood it took to revive the creature to the point it could feed on its own, just to be starved again. Angelus had been a bastard, a clever bastard, but a bastard still the same.

"If we could find something sharp I could.and you could.you know.eat me. I don't want you to starve." Things were really bad when the whelp could read his mind. He couldn't blame his Xander however. It seemed the demons had brought freedom of a sort. Without the presence of Them, Xander now had the freedom to think about dying. If he were clever enough, to act on it. He didn't want Xander to die, but he didn't want him to suffer more if he could end it.

He felt Xander swallow harshly to keep his throat moist. Without a thought to how it would affect him he tore a small gash in his own wrist and held it to Xander's mouth.

"Drink Xander." He cut off any incipient protest by jamming the gory joint into the human's mouth, but the young man didn't respond. "Don't waste it, boy." He encouraged harshly and stroked his mate's throat until he began to swallow. It was only a few sips but it would tide the boy over for a while. Luckily the young man said nothing when he finally pulled his wrist back.

He would deal with his choices later. He couldn't face any decisions right now. Xander's face was drooping in exhaustion and he wasn't much better. Who knew what tomorrow would bring, but for now.

"Go to sleep Xander," he murmured as soothingly as he knew how. He wrapped his young man in a cocoon of arms and legs and adjusted himself to the warm body and listened as breath deepened and the boy drifted off into true sleep. Tomorrow was soon enough. "Go to sleep, my mate, my l..."

Funny, he could have sworn he heard a distant voice whine, `Where're the demons? I wanna stake something.' But it was probably just the hunger talking.

*****
~tbc~
Author's note: I promise the next part gets better/happier.