== present ==

After turning over the paperwork to the nurse, Spike followed Dr. Slatterly through pale blue painted cement hallways until they came to an elevator. The thin doctor with the graying hair and the white lab-coat strongly reminded Spike of the scientists at the Initiative and he felt a brief surge of sympathy for the mortal he was here to see. He was sure that Dru's kitty-pet found these doctors and nurses as vulgar and oddly chilling as he did.

Vampires, by their very nature, were extremely intimate creatures. The fed directly from the still living bodies of their prey, they shared every aspect of their unlives with their family and they felt no need or desire to hide any of their emotions or wants. They laid everything bare for all to see. And Xander had lived as a member of a vampire family for over a year. Granted, he was the mortal family's equivalent of the pet dog, but he was *still* a member of a powerful vampire family. And as such, Xander had been forced into an intimacy with Drusilla and Angelus that had been doubly reinforced by lingering torture and violent sex.

The cold and aloof sterility of this place was a purely mortal fascination and no true vampire would want to live this way. Placating gentleness, pretended understanding and casual concern did nothing to hide the truer and less morally pleasing aspect that *really* drew the doctors into this field. The insatiable curiosity to unravel a bizarre mystery. The scientists at the Initiative had wanted nothing more than to figure out what made him tick, and Spike had the feeling that these doctors wanted nothing more than to figure out how Xander was broken. True caring about the boy wasn't a motivation for these lab-coated mortals at all.

When they stepped into the elevator, Dr. Slatterly turned and began to speak to Spike about Xander. He was deliberately vague and Spike could tell he was sugar coating things a lot, but Spike knew that the doctor didn't realize that after more than a century of killing and torturing with his Sister, Drusilla, he was far more familiar with insanity than the doctor ever could be.

"Now, Mr. Bradford. Your friend is very... ill. I'm not trying to upset you or frighten you, but Mr. Harris has very complex problems in recognizing and associating with reality. We believe that at one point, he was horribly mistreated and that the abuse combined with his family's death was what led to his breakdown."

"However, if he does talk with you and his words don't make a whole lot of sense, don't worry too much. He claims to hear a voice in his head and he often talks about a dead woman and her father. We keep him medicated, as it helps to drown out the voice in his mind and leaves him calmer and more easy to manage. However, I must warn you, he is strapped down. This is for *your* protection. He can be quite violent when allowed to run loose."

Spike looked at the doctor a long moment and pondered just *how* he was supposed to respond to that. He *knew* what had happened to unhinge Xander's mind. He might not have taken too much of a personal hand with his breaking, but he had been a witness to it. He also knew that the voice Xander heard was *real*, a gift from his beloved Dark Goddess.

He was curious about Xander's violent behavior though, but before he could comment about it, the elevator stopped. Spike watched as Dr. Slatterly pulled out a magnetically coded card and waved it in front of Spike's face while he gestured to the still closed doors.

"This is the top floor. The Violent Ward. We house all of our... "

Spike bit back a grin and offered up a description for the floundering doctor.

"Psycho killers?"

The doctor blanched, but didn't deny it.

"... *ahem* hard to control patients up here. You need a specially coded card just to open the elevator doors. That way, no other patients will wander up here by accident."

The doctor swiped his card and the doors opened after the control panel blinked from red to green. Dr. Slatterly stepped out of the small elevator and Spike followed him into the hallway. The walls here were not the soft pale blue from downstairs. The were a crisp white and at different checkpoints along the corridor were iron bars with armed guards standing by the doorways that led past them. Spike's one eyebrow raised up to his hairline, but he silently followed the doctor.

The first guard pulled out a keyring and unlocked the barred doorway that he guarded and they stepped through and continued down the hall. At an intersection, they turned left and passed through another barred hatchway. The corridor was lined with steel doors with their locks and small sliding plates that allowed one to look inside without the door being opened.

Finally, the came to a metal door that had a white uniformed orderly standing outside of it. He glanced up at their approach and Dr. Slatterly nodded. The orderly then turned and unlocked the door. Once they stopped in front of it, the doctor turned to face Spike once more.

"Mr. Bradford. Once again, I'm not trying to upset you, but... please do not remove any of the straps confining Mr. Harris to the bed. They are for *your* protection. While you are visiting, I and Carl here will be directly outside this door. Call us in if you need us, and don't worry if you don't feel comfortable enough to stay long. Most people *don't* find it easy to spend time with the insane."

Spike turned away from the doctor to hide his smirk. He was a *demon* and by the very definition of that fact, he *himself* was insane. Every member of his entire bloodline had been crazy without exception, Dru just took it to extremes.

"Don't worry Doc. Can't be any worse than the rest of my bloody family, now can he? After all... he was *just* the pet."

Spike chuckled at the confused expression on the doctor's face, but he didn't give the man time to form a reply to his statement. Instead, he reached out and yanked open the metal door. He stepped inside swiftly and pulled it shut behind him. And then he stopped short, a broad smile rushing across his lips at the sight before him.

Xander, as promised, was indeed strapped to a bed. The mortal's dark hair had grown rather long, almost to his shoulders. It's color and waviness reminded him of his Sister, but the length reminded him of his Sire from before the nasty curse. He was still thin and wiry, but he seemed to be bigger too. Probably grew a few inches in height since Spike had last seen him. He wore nothing but a pair of faded mint green pajama bottoms, even his feet were bare.

Xander was lying flat on his back and his arms were down along his sides. A fleece lined leather strap bound his upper chest and upper arms to the bed. A second strap crossed his stomach and and elbows and a third large strap bound his thighs right above the knees. His wrists and ankles each had an identical strap that bound his hands and feet to the bed. He was squirming slightly under his restraints.

All in all, he was quite luscious and beautiful to Spike's eyes. He licked his lips.

"'Ello kitty-pet. Long time no see, innit?"

Spike wasn't sure *what* reaction that he would get from the boy, but he *didn't* think he'd get the one he got. Xander's dark haunted eyes *sprang* open at the sound of his voice and for a long moment the boy just *stared* at him intently. Spike had figured that the boy would shake and quiver in fear, possibly beg for mercy. Instead, Spike's sensitive nose got hit with a *staggering* wave of pheromones and the strong musky scent of Xander's arousal. His heart began to beat faster and slight shivers of fear and dark delight tingled through the very air.

"S... Spike... *Spike*! Oooowww... *HOME*! *Please* Spike, take me *home*. I don't wanna be *here*. I their be with *her*. Please take me home to Mistress. I *miss* her and I *need* her... *please*..."

Spike's jaw dropped open in shock. He *never* would have guessed that the mortal boy *missed* the woman who had caused him such unspeakable pain and agony. That he wanted to be with the being who had nearly single-handedly destroyed his life. Yet he did. Drusilla had broken Xander and then reformed him into her own image. Now, he craved and needed that which he was denied.

His home. His Mistress. His *family*.

Spike felt a wash of understanding and sympathy. He missed Dru as well.

The only thing that he didn't understand was why Xander had run off if he was so infatuated with Drusilla. He blinked in confusion, a small frown playing at the corners of his mouth, even as he walked over and sat on he edge of the bed. He reached out with one hand and gently ran the backs of his cool fingers along Xander's warm living cheek. The mortal leaned his face into the soft touch and smiled happily, almost nuzzling him.

"Kitty-pet? If you loved Dru so much, why did you run off? We thought that you escaped and never wanted to come back."

Xander's eyes turned stricken and he shook his head in denial.

"...no, no, *no*, NO! *Hide and Seek*! She *hunted* but I was smart and sneaky! *Clever!* She never found me, never came, and then I was lost! Lost and alone..."

== flashback ==

Xander leaned his naked and scarred back against the rough brick wall that he was chained to and watched his dark and deadly Mistress flitter about between her Sire and her Brother. The deceptively peaceful scene left him with an odd sensation of pride welling in his chest. They were his family and they were beautiful. Dark, deadly, devious... and he *belonged* to them. Or did *they* belong to *him*? Sometimes he forgot. But that didn't matter now, what was important was that they were all together and he enjoyed being able to feast his eyes upon their lovely forms.

Now that Spike's injuries had healed to the point where he was able to walk and run and hunt and their, Angelus was taking more and more of an interest in him. His beautiful dark Mistress had whispered in his ear softly of how things were slowly going back into older and more delightful patterns. The two males were slowly getting over their respective animosity and resentment towards each other and they had recently begun to hunt and have sex together. Xander's Mistress was well pleased that her family was healing itself and she expressed her joy upon his flesh with wicked pain and lush pleasure.

Now, to Xander's delight and excitement, Angelus wanted to celebrate Spike's recovery and renewed their of him as leader of their clan. So, they were going off on holiday. Just the four of them. Spike's DeSoto had been completely overhauled with both engine and body work done on it and then it was cleaned inside and out. The minions had already packed up most of their belongings the night before and as soon as the sun set, they were to be off.

[ hurry and run and hide... escape escape escape... *think* of stone and rock and dirt packed tight around you... a grave... buried deep in the earth... hidden deep in the arms of the earth... hide hide... no scent, no sound, no light.... buried deep under stone and age and weight of rock covering you hiding you... not to be found... escape escape escape... ]

At the moment, the Master Vampire and his bleached blonde their were pouring over maps and arguing about the best route to take to reach the first destination on the agenda. Drusilla stood between their chairs, lightly swaying back and forth. She alternated between humming a gentle tune under her breath and offering up her own ideas and suggestions.

Her comments were usually met with raised eyebrows and odd looks, but Xander couldn't figure out why. Everything that she ever uttered was terribly important and the gospel truth. Didn't they *realize* that?

Finally, in a fit of frustration, Angelus turned and snarled at Xander's beloved and feared Mistress.

"Damn it Drusilla! I'm trying to *plan* here. I don't have *time* to play now. We only have a few hours until the sun sets."

[ pain and sadness and lonely aching in the night and lost so lost alone alone alone... hide in the stones hide in the stones... alone and lost, alone and lost... ]

Xander watched his beloved Mistress pout and her dark eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. The very sight of her beautiful face displaying such hurt and pain made him feel all tingly and he wished he could nibble on her thrust out bottom lip. She was *so* lovely when she suffered and hurt. A sparkling rush of excitement sizzled up his spine at the thought that maybe Angelus would be angry enough to punish her. Xander could cum merely from watching his beloved Drusilla being whipped by her Sire. It was the most wonderful and erotic thing he had ever seen before and he hoped to see it again. Soon.

[ power and greed and hate and vengeance are coming and the stones will shift and break and cry... hide and run and escape his ascension or the sunlight shall pierce the grave and dust will mingle with dirt... power and greed and hate and vengeance are coming... the ascension draws their... ]

"I only want to help. Our grand adventure calls to me, whispering of blood and violence and broken little dolls all in a row. They itch and burn for us to come upon them and scratch their glassy eyes out."

Xander shivered at the sound of her voice and his chains rattled slightly, but Angelus merely exchanged a long and exasperated look with Spike. It was the blonde vampire that interceded.

"Princess? Why don't you go play with your kitty-pet? He'll be trapped in the car soon and so he won't have the chance to exercise later. I'm sure he'd love to be allowed to stretch his muscles out a bit."

When Dru nodded in agreement, Xander felt a wash of bitter disappointment pool in his stomach. He had *really* wanted to watch as her Sire flayed her bare flesh raw with his belt. Opening up rough jagged cuts along her smooth porcelain skin, dripping bright red blood in splashes and splatters along the stone floor.

[ run and hide and pull the *idea* of stone around you wrap you in it's embrace... hide and escape to the towers of stone and metal and wait for he who shall come... escape the ascension... ]

But then she turned to face him, her deep mysterious eyes piercing his soul and he felt a jolt of sensual pleasure mixed with familiar terror. As she stepped up to him, he once again marveled at the flood of emotions that she made him feel with the simplest of gestures. He loved her and hated her. He feared her even as he coddled and pampered her. She was the bane of his existence and he worshiped every detail about her with a mindless devotion. She was the ultimate center of his universe.

And she was going to play with him.

Her deceptively delicate slim fingers brushed along his cheek gently and then carded through his hair leaving a trail of tingles and shivers in their wake. Helplessly, he wondered what the torment he was to suffer for her pleasure would be this time as a quiver raced down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.

"Shhh.... my lovely kitty-pet. So soft, so tender, so... easily bruised. So quick to bleed for my pleasure. So pretty, so very very pretty."

Xander nuzzled his head into her hand and hummed low in his throat. He wasn't a vampire, so he couldn't purr, but that didn't stop him from trying to imitate the sound of contentment that they made. Drusilla giggled slightly, her soft voice leaving little pricks of fear and lust dancing on his nerves. Then she leaned forward until her body was pressed against his and ran her cool wet tongue along the side of his neck. With a shudder of desire, Xander instantly tilted his head for her, offering his throat to her whims. She nipped lightly at the skin, drawing blood, but not opening a vein.

"The stars sing such lonely songs. They whisper whisper of loss and regret. They know that pain is coming and they sing such sad sad songs."

Xander arched his neck further as his Mistress began to hum her soft tune again. She pressed her lips to his skin and he could feel the light vibrations tickle at his sensitive throat. She stopped her humming suddenly and nipped at him again. He hissed in pleasure/pain and his cock stirred in the tight black leather shorts that she had dressed him in today.

"Kitty-pet? Are the stones and rocks and dirt speaking to you? Do they whisper in your ears about our journey the way the stars are singing to me?"

Xander shifted slightly, the bare flesh of his back rubbing against the brick wall, little scratches and scraps along his tender and raw skin. His voice was horse from the weight of his screams the night before as he answered the deadly beauty nibbling on his vulnerable and hungry skin.

"The Mayor... the stones speak his name. And violent deaths. The Hellmouth screams for it, demands it. We must flee... hide... escape the burning sunlight..."

A delightfully wicked giggled tickled his ear.

"Yessss... Miss Edith told me all about *that* one. She says that he will be very powerful soon. He will *become*."

They exchanged a quick glance and Xander *saw* the knowledge and understanding deep within her. Power shimmered about her like an aura of glittery red light and the stones and pebbles of Sunnydale murmured her name in his ears, whispering of her gift and her strength. She *knew* that change was coming and coming soon. And it would not be for the best.

[ buried in rock and thoughts of rock, in stone and thoughts of stone... hidden and hiding... flee into the night... run far and run fast... hide in plain sight behind veils of thought, dreams of stone... ]

*****

Then, in a heartbeat, the connection was gone and Xander became fiercely aware of her body pressed tightly to his and he *hungered* for her. The pain, the pleasure, the bloodshed. He arched against her, silently begging for her attention, for sensation, for her touch. She giggled and leaned her hip against the erection trapped in his tight black shorts.

"Someone is thinking naughty naughty thoughts. Mmmm.... I think I should allow you to play a fun game. You go off and hide and I'll hunt you down. Then I'll punish you like the bad little boy that you are. Nip and bite, hit and twist. You'll be begging for more by the time I'm done..."

Xander whimpered with lust and his cock jerked painfully in his too tight shorts at the very thought.

"Undo your restraints my pet. Set yourself free to run and hide from your wicked wicked Mistress."

Xander closed his eyes and reached out with the Gift she had cursed him with. There was a wrenching *twisting* sensation deep inside of his skull and his ears *popped*. Five solid sounding *clicks* echoed through the room as Xander used his mind and his willpower to unlock his chains. They fell back against the brick wall with loud metallic rattles.

He slowly lowered his arms and rotated his shoulders twice to loosen his stiff muscles and then he stepped away from the wall without any help from another being. He stood there wearing nothing more than the black leather short-shorts, his leather collar and matching leather wrist and ankle shackles, complete with multiple D-rings while his Mistress gazed on with delighted pride. She clapped her hands in glee and gave a little bounce.

"Wonderful! Oh, my sweet precious, Mummy's so proud. She has twisted you and bent you and made you into something so... wicked. You are getting stronger and stronger with your abilities all the time. Once I turn you, you'll be even *more* powerful!"

She flipped her fine boned hands in a shooing gesture. Xander imagined that he could see wet red blood flying from the tips of her fingers to splash along the stone floor.

"Run along. Go off and hide so I can hunt you down and bite you all up with my pretty little fangs."

She nipped at the air by his ear and he shivered, a tendril of fear and exhilaration flooding through him. He *loved* this game and yet he never won it. She *always* found him, but he tried *so* hard to make it difficult for her. She loved it more when he hid himself well and then afterwards she would bring him to even higher plains of pleasure and deeper chasms of agony as his reward.

[ run and hide run and hide run and hide... thoughts of stone and rock and sheltering in a crypt of the mind... ]

With a quick smile, he turned and hurried off, his bare feet slapping on the stone floor. He was so glad that he had the their to play hide and seek with his Mistress one last time before they left for their vacation. He had a new hiding place that he'd never used before and a new trick that he'd learned from the hissing grating voice whispering hollowly in his head and he wanted the chance to try it out. He'd just have to get there and then be quiet as a mouse.

He just had to go into the cellar where all of the walls, the floor *and* the ceiling were made of rough stone and then he *knew* he could get them to hide his lifeforce. The rocks and dirt were his friends after all. They spoke to him a lot and they had told him how to do it, how to build a mental shield of rock and stone.

== present ==

Spike gently petted the mortal's face, neck and chest as he watched those haunted dark eyes unfocus. Emotions flickered across Xander's handsome face and the vampire found himself idly wondering what it was going on inside the boy's twisted little mind. With a soft sigh, he hoped that Xander didn't fade off all the time, or perhaps that it was only the medication doing it, because he *needed* the psychic to *focus* on the problem at hand. Specifically, the chip.

Hoping that it would work on Xander as well as it did his beloved Dark Princess when she had suffered from her visions of the future, Spike ran his long pale fingers through the boy's thick greasy dark hair in a soothing and repetitive manner. He vaguely noted that the boy needed to be thoroughly showered, but he figured it was probably difficult for the orderlies to bathe him considering they didn't have vampiric strength. Slowly, Xander began to relax. Spike started purring, a low rumbling in his chest and throat even as his other hand began to trace long soft strokes up and down the boy's chest.

"Xander... Xander... Come on back to me pet. Come on. I need to talk to you about getting you out of here. About us leaving together. Come on Xander... focus on my voice. Come back to me."

Little by little, the soft touches, the rumbling and soothing purr and Spike's whispering had it's desired effect. Xander's eyes sharpened and then locked onto Spike's face. It was like watching the boy wake up from a dream. A tiny smile creased his mouth for a brief second, then the mortal tilted his head sideways and frowned at him in confusion.

"The wicked pills they force down into me cage the voices. I only hear a hissing whisper that teases and torments me because it is so very far away. But every now and then a pebble falls through the cracks and everything is clear and shinning for a tiny bit. A little tiny stone in the heart of the garden is calling your name Spike. It is hissing and spitting about pain and frustration, loneliness and need."

The mortal blinked at him in shock and struggled against his restraints, desperately trying to get closer to the Master Vampire while Spike blinked at him with a strange mixture of hope, awe and confusion swirling in his head.

"You're *hurt*! Someone *broke* you!"

Spike felt that tiny kernel of hope begin to blossom in his cold dead chest. His Sister, Dru, had seen visions that told her of what was to come, but her kitty-pet, the mortal she had planned on taking as her own their someday, had visions of what *was*, now, in the present. And he somehow *knew* that Spike had been hurt and was still hurting because of everything the Initiative had done to him.

"Yeah, pet. I'm hurt. I was captured by some government soldiers and their pet scientists. They put some damn microchip in my skull against my will. Now, every time I go to hunt or kill, the microchip sends a blast of blinding pain through my brain."

Spike watched Xander's face as he told him about what had been done to him. His expression flip-flopped from outraged anger to shuddering horror and then to a strange sort of understanding.

"I was captured too. The doctors tie me up, but they won't play with me or let me play with the other patients here. They *never* bite me or hurt me or do *any* fun stuff. And they feed me these awful wicked pills that make the voices dim and the Gift quiet. And they won't let me just *go* *home*!"

Spike could feel a frown spreading across his face as he considered everything that the mortal just told him. He was right about the similarities in their two situations. Xander wanted his freedom from the asylum as much as Spike had wanted his own from the Initiative. Spike knew right then and there that no matter what else happened, he would find a way to get his beloved Dru's kitty-pet out of here.

But beyond that, Spike was worried about the medication. If it dulled Xander's link to the voices and his psychic powers, *how* would he be able to remove the chip from Spike's skull? Well... maybe the boy would know how. After all, he'd been here for a few years, maybe he had figured out a way around it.

"Pet? Xander? If the meds make the earth and stones all fuzzy and quiet, how can you talk to them? I need you to get this chip out of my head so I can hunt and kill and that means you *have* to use your Gift."

A wash of arousal hit Spike's sensitive nose and the mortal boy flushed all over his body. Spike wondered what in the hell made the boy have *that* reaction to what he had said when Xander answered his unasked question.

"Sex."

Spike blinked in confusion.

"What pet? Run that by me again. What does sex have to do with anything?"

Xander blushed again, but his dark eyes never left Spike's own blue ones.

"Sex. When you have sex it creates *lots* of energy. I can tap into *that* energy to use the Gift. That's *one* of the reasons I'm not allowed to play with others. Strong emotions allow me to tap into the Gift too, but those wicked pills keep me fuzzy and sleepy, so that doesn't happen."

Spike nodded thoughtfully as he considered it. It *did* make sense and sex would also probably help to burn out some of the medication in the boy's blood stream as well. Then something the mortal said stuck out in his mind and he *had* to know. Curiosity was burning too brightly inside of him to ignore it.

"Pet? Um... if you using sex to get enough energy and power to use your Gift is only *one* of the reasons why they don't let you spend time around the other patients, what are the *other* reasons?"

Spike watched a wicked and evil grin spread across the boy's face. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief and a low throaty chuckle rumbled through his bare chest. Spike couldn't help but answer that nasty smile with one of his own.

"Oh... that would be because I like to play with the other patients. You know, tie them up, hit them, kick them, occasionally bite them."

Xander's grin dimmed slightly and a look of haunted sadness entered his dark eyes.

"It helps me feel better. I just get *so* homesick sometimes and it helps to share the pain with other people. And I *know* they could *learn* to like it just like *I* did!"

Spike chuckled and Xander's grin turned evil once more.

"Of course, it *could* be that I tend to kill people whenever I get loose. But, I don't understand why that gets everyone so riled up. I mean, I've been killing things since I was just a kid. Vamps, demons, animals.... now I've added humans to the list. What's the big deal. Right?"

Spike grinned and petted the mortal's hair in sympathy and understanding.

"You're right pet. It *isn't* a big deal. And when you get this chip outta my head, we'll leave here you and I, and we'll go find some humans and kill 'em up good and proper. Sound like fun?"

Xander nodded his head vigorously and Spike chuckled. He could smell the excitement and arousal rolling off of the human even as his blue eyes dilated to take in the lovely little wiggles and squirms that were all that the restraints allowed him to do. After a brief moment of enjoying this delightful visual feast, Spike noticed that there was a distinctive pattern to Xander's wiggles. He was trying to free his hands.

Spike frowned. Xander had, at one point, been able to undo *any* lock, buckle or clasp with just his Gift and his willpower. Now, he had reverted back to squiggles and squirms. A wash of protective anger rolled over him as he realized that the drugs that the doctors fed to the mortal was, in it's own way, a lot like Spike's chip. It prevented him from doing what now came naturally. Granted, the drugs would wear off, or could be gotten around in a few minor ways, whereas the chip couldn't, but it was the same principle.

Right then and there, Spike promised himself that he'd kill anyone who ever tried to drug the boy again. With his Sire missing and hidden by a mage-shield and Drusilla and Darla dust, he was Spike's last remaining family member and the Master Vampire planned on protecting him with extreme prejudice.

That decision made, Spike reached down and began to unshackle the boy one buckle at a time. Chest. Waist. Legs. Ankles. Wrists. As soon as the last strap came apart, it's leather ends fluttering to the bedsheet, Spike found himself with a double armful of Xander.

The boy wrapped his arms around Spike's shoulders and buried his face against his long pale neck, muttering and whispering in between soft kisses and gentle nips pressed into his skin.

"Oooowwww *so* cool, almost cold ::kiss:: dead, no heartbeat ::lick:: like coming home ::nip:: so pale, so lovely ::kiss:: missed you, miss her, miss him ::nibble:: gonna fix you ::nip:: then you and I will hunt ::lick:: and we can be happy again ::*bite*::"

Spike felt a shiver run down his spine as Xander's blunt human teeth bit down on his throat hard enough to break the skin and draw a few drops of bright red blood. He brought his arms around the mortal's waist and pulled him up onto his lap. Xander spread his long legs wide so that he was straddling the blonde. Spike squeezed the warm body close to him, enjoying the exquisite heat that leached through his clothes to tease his flesh.

Xander ran his warm wet tongue up the length of Spike's neck until he reached the vampire's ear. Then he wrapped his soft full lips around the pale lobe and suckled gently for a long moment before he bit down on it... *hard*. Spike hissed and a bolt of lust surged through his body to gather in his groin. He reached up one pale hand and thrust it into Xander's thick shaggy hair at the back of his head and curled his fingers into a fist. Yanking the mortal's head back, he leaned forward and attacked those lush full lips with his own. Immediately, Xander opened up to him, silently begging him to just take and taste and plunder the warm moist depths of his mouth.

The man-child in his arms moaned deep in his throat and shifted so that his pajama covered erection rubbed up against Spike's stomach. The musky scent of lust and sweat and leather swirled in his nose and the thumping sound of Xander's heartbeat echoed in his ears even as the promise and hope that the bloody chip would be destroyed rolled about his passion soaked mind.

With a gasp of air that he didn't really need, Spike broke the desperate kiss and carefully shoved Xander off of his lap and onto the bed. It was a fine line to walk, rough enough to arouse the violence deprived mortal, but gentle enough to not cause any actual pain that would send the chip in his skull to flaring white hot agony down his central nervous system.

Spike quickly stood up and shrugged out of his leather duster. He draped it across the only chair in the room. Then, he peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it on the seat of the chair. He undid his belt and unzipped his black jeans. As he pushed them wide open and then down to his knees, he glanced over at the boy.

"Strip!"

He saw a shiver race along Xander's spine as the boy rolled onto his back in a flash and grasped the waistband of his faded pajamas. Then in one smooth move, the mortal *yanked* them down to his knees. One leg at a time, he hurriedly kicked them off and onto the floor.

Spike spared a long moment to run his eyes over the boy's body. Long lean muscles and smooth pale skin. It was painfully obvious that the boy rarely, if ever, saw any sunlight. He hadn't the entire time he had lived with Spike's family and the vampire was pretty certain that the doctors wouldn't allow Xander to freely roam the hospital grounds. Still, the moon kissed skin was a striking contrast to the long midnight curls and the deep dark eyes. What's more, the mortal's long thick cock was painfully erect, purple-red with his desire and need. He was utterly beautiful.

Grinning, his own erection standing proud from a nest of dark curls, Spike turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly on the floor. He reached out towards the mortal with one hand open in invitation. A slow sexy secretive smile bloomed across Xander's face and he crawled his way across the mattress to Spike. Wet warm tongue flicked across his cool earlobe even as a large warm hand pressed against his bare chest.

Willingly, Spike lay back against the mattress only to get lost in the dreamy look of lust etched onto the mortal's face. With an almost reverent touch, Xander ran one fingertip down the length of his pale muscular chest. That gentle feathery touch teased at his skin, leaving tingles of warmth and heightened sensitivity as it delicately traced the lines of his ribs and lean curves of his flesh.

"So beautiful... so lovely... so smooth..."

In a heartbeat, the gentle teasing touch turned harsh and heavy as Xander *dug* his fingernails *into* Spike's pale skin and then *dragged* his hand down the creamy expanse. Burning stinging *pain* flashed through Spike's body and the scent of blood filled his nose even as his cock *throbbed* and began to leak pre-cum at the sensation.

"Oooo..."

The shaky breathy gasp pulled Spike out of his own mind in time to see Xander's eyes go wide with a dark and wicked hunger as he bent his head down towards the bloody scratches running along his right pectoral. Spike shivered and clutched at the bedsheets when he felt a warm wet tongue delicately lap up the spilled drops of crimson pleasure.

His head swirled with disjointed thoughts of what it would be like once they finally left here and began to journey through life... or their together, when Xander suddenly swung his leg over Spike's hips and straddled his body. The movement caused their erections to brush against each other and they both moaned in pleasure at the sensation.

Never one to hesitate, Spike reached up and grabbed Xander's ass with both of his hands. One quick tug and he had the mortal's body pressed tightly to his own. Erection to erection, chest to chest, face to face. The feeling of hot sweaty skin melded against his cool body sent thrills of almost overwhelming pleasure coursing through him and he felt a rumbling growl erupt out of his chest even as he thrust his hips up against Xander.

His hands methodically squeezed and molded the firm lush ass that filled them and his hips found a rough and quick rhythm that the hot mortal blanketing his body easily picked up. A hot wet mouth found his own and the delicious *taste* of Xander exploded across his tongue. Wet, warm, wild and just enough spice from longed for pain and violence. The darkness in his soul and mind sending thrilling sparks through Spike's preternatural senses.

Pleasure and need and *hunger* built inside of him, spiraling upwards, seeking out the demon within him. His hard and greedy erection pulsed and throbbed as he ground his hips against Xander's and he felt his face begin to shift, bones melting and melding into harsher lines and deep ridges. His gums *ached* in the most delicious way and then the *wonderful* feeling of *release* as his fangs elongated and sharpened into deadly points.

The mortal in his arms took one long look into his glittery yellow eyes, moaned in ecstasy and plunged his warm tender tongue into his fang filled mouth, seeking out and then deliberately slicing open his lips and tongue on the razor sharp canines. Rich pleasure/pain flavored *living* blood bubbled into his hungry mouth and Spike *groaned* at the heady and wonderful taste. His demon *roared* in his head and he sucked down *hard* on the cut and bloody tongue in his mouth.

Husky and breathy whimpers and moans vibrated in Xander's throat even as the mortal began to thrust down on Spike faster and faster with a broken and desperate rhythm. The scent of arousal flooded the air and Spike could taste the boy's orgasm in his blood even before his burning hot erection *exploded* against his own cock and abs.

The combined scent/taste and the physical sensations of Xander's body spasming on top of him was too much and with a growl, Spike tore his mouth from Xander's and howled out his own release even as Xander reached out with two shaky hands and clamped them down on top of his skull with great force.

Spike was still shaking and trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm when there was a *twisting* *pulling* flash of red streaked white glittering light and then he heard a sharp *crack-pop* inside his head followed by a feeling of vague *emptiness* behind his eyes.

Spike wasn't sure *what* had just happened to him and was about to demand that the boy explain himself when suddenly Xander sat up so that Spike's semen soaked flaccid cock nestled between the mortal's warm cheeks. Xander's expression was one of exhausted exaltation and he reached out to Spike with one hand, palm up. Sitting there on his pale flesh was a twisted bit of metal and plastic with brightly colored wires and tiny connection plugs dangling from it.

Disbelieving shock rocked him to the core as he stared at it. Slowly, as if waking from a dream, Spike realized *what* that thing was and that it was no longer on the *inside* of his skull.

"... the chip..."

His voice was a mere whisper, yet it carried like the glorious hail and call to war by the Lord of Demons himself to Spike's ears. His pale hand shaking with emotion, Spike gently plucked the tiny piece of technology off of Xander's hand and *squeezed* it with all of his inhuman strength, leaving it nothing more than a crushed and twisted bit of shiny trash.

Then he turned his glittering gold eyes onto the naked mortal sitting on his lap. Oh... he was *never* letting this one go.

"You *did* it pet! You did it!"

A happy and satisfied smile raced across Xander's face for a quick moment and then his dark eyes rolled up in his head and he toppled over in an unconscious sprawl across Spike's body. A wave of protectiveness rippled through him and he wrapped his long pale arms around the mortal, cuddling him close.

"Shhh... that's okay pet. You did good, you did. You just take a little nap. When you wake up, we'll see about getting you out of here so that we can go kill people. But for now, you just rest up."

*****
Part 4:

== flashback ==

He was cold.

It's an odd sensation to notice first, especially when there are so many other's that seem to be clamoring for his undivided attention. Raw bloody skin, stinging and tingling with whispers of pain from where she'd last hit him with her cat-o-nine-tails whip. Stretched taunt muscles that were cramping and twisting from his enforced stillness. Aching emptiness and clawing hunger because she had denied him food for three days as a part of the 'ritual cleansing' in preparation of the spell. Throbbing and needy erection trapped in a painfully tight leather cockring.

But his twisted and broken mind choose to linger on the fact that he was cold.

Goose bumps and shivers traveled up his chilled naked flesh, but there was more to it than that. It was a coldness of the spirit as well. All hope for redemption and release had died within him, only to be reborn into a twisted and reversed image of what and who he had once been.

No longer did he crave his freedom from Her. No longer did he fall into tortured dreams, his last conscious wish that at least *one* of his friends remembered him, thought of him, was planning to rescue him. No. Those days were gone. There was no turning back. Now, he only craved Her touch, both gentle and cruel, graceful beauty and hellish cruelty. The taste of Her, the scent of Her, the sound of Her cries and Her laughter ringing in his ears.

And now... today, she was planning on *changing* him. Making him a part of the darkness which dwelled within her own mind. Her soft lilting voice had whispered sweet pleasures and grand pain into his seething brain, promising power and comfort and madness. She planned to bind him to the Hellmouth and to Herself with blood and magic and pain and sex.

Didn't his Mistress know that no mere magic spell could bind him to her any tighter than his own heart and mind already did? He was *Her's*, now and forever, a willing and broken servant. She was his only need, his only desire, his only *fear*.

Dragging in a ragged and shuttering breath, Xander opened his bruised eyes and looked around at the room he was confined in.

He was lying flat on his back on a small twin sized cot. The thin lumpy mattress was wrapped in black cotton and his arms were stretched over his head and then bound to the metal frame. He legs were also stretched out and spread slightly, his ankles similarly shackled. Every surface of the room itself was painted a dull black and then sprinkled with bright white glittery stars of varying sizes. The walls, the floors, the ceiling. Even the furniture.

There was a long dresser along the far wall and it held a multitude of candles and the wall sconces on the other side of the room also held burning candles, their bright flames dancing and flickering, but the dark walls and ceiling seemed to absorb and eat the light. A small table near the bed held other items. A heavy and obviously old leather bound book. A silver chalice and a silver knife. An iron cauldron set up on a small tripod over an unlit candle. A glass of wine and two silk pouches full of... something.

Xander felt an iron ball of fear settle into his stomach as he studied the items. He *knew* that she was planning on destroying what was left of his soul, corrupting it, blackening it, breaking the last part of him that held compassion and goodness in it. He knew that she was going to pervert him into something more... or was that something less... than human. She had told him that he would survive, that she wouldn't kill him. Yet.

And a little part of him wished that she would kill him. Just *do* it. He *knew* it was coming and he half feared that day and half hoped it would come in the next minute. He didn't like being the only living creature in the big Mansion. All of his old family were dead, most of his old friends were dead. His Mistress and her family were all animated corpses... he wanted to be dead too.

The sound of the door opening yanked his twirling and morbid thoughts out of the ether and into the here and now. Twisting his neck around so that he could see who was there, Xander got his first glimpse of Drusilla this night.

Her breathtakingly beautiful pale face swam beneath a heavy black velvet hood and her lithe and lovely form was draped within the folds of a heavy black velvet robe. The merest whisper of fabric rustling was the only sound she made as she glided across the room to the table. Her dark eyes sparkled with madness and power and a soft gentle smile graced her lips. Xander's soul flinched and shrieked in horror even as his body quivered with hunger for the feel of her touch.

She ignored him, walking over to the table. With trepidation and lust battling for dominance in his mind, Xander watched as she flipped open the large book to the page marked with the bright red satin ribbon. She read the page silently for a moment and then lit the candle under the cauldron. Her soft breathy voice sent chills along Xander's naked and exposed skin as she began chanting in a demonic language he didn't understand, even though he recognized it. He had heard it before and had even learned one or two words, but he had no idea what it was she was saying as she began the spell.

Drusilla carefully poured half of the wine into the tiny iron cauldron and then opened one of the silk packets on the table. Still chanting in her soft breathy voice, she sprinkled a double pinch of dried herbs into the slowly heating wine. Then, she lifted up the knife and raised it high into the air. She chanted and sang to it softly for a long moment and then she quickly sliced through her left wrist with it's keen edge.

Tilting her bloody and dripping wrist over the cauldron, she let the stolen blood flow from her undead veins into the herb and wine mixture. Still, she chanted the demonic magic spell.

She began to stir the mixture with the knife in her right hand, even as she lifted her bloody wrist up to her face. Her long pink tongue darted out and licked up the remaining splashes of bright red and Xander's cock jerked and twitched at the erotic sight. Her eyes flashed over to him briefly as she lowered the knife back to the table.

Still singing those unholy words, Drusilla lifted the cauldron up with her bare hands, heedless of it's heat. Carefully, she poured the mixture into the silver chalice. She put the cauldron back on it's tripod and picked up the remaining silk pouch. Reaching into it, she pulled out a piece of crumbling pressed spice and ground it between her fingers over the silver chalice. The wine/herb/blood mixture bubbled and hissed as the spice dissolved into it. Still, she chanted with her soft breathy voice.

Finally, she lifted the chalice and carefully made her way across the room towards Xander and the bed he was strapped down to. Tingles of excitement and fear washed over his skin, leaving him extra sensitive and responsive. He *yearned* for her and he *craved* her and he would willingly submit to *any*thing she required from him, yet he was frightened. His Mistress was going to *change* him, at some *very* basic levels. He didn't even like who he was now, let alone what she wanted him to become. But he wasn't asked. He had no choice, no will of his own.

Taking great care not to spill a drop of the liquid in the chalice and still speaking the words of the demonic spell, Drusilla pushed aside the front opening of her robe, revealing her naked pale flesh beneath. Xander felt the breath catch in his throat at the very sight of her and his cock jerked and twitched in it's bondage.

Moving slowly, she climbed across his lap and positioned his straining erection against her wet opening. Her chanting got louder and louder as she slowly slid down his throbbing length, wrapping him in tight wet coolness. Xander's heart beat furiously against his chest as he fought with his bindings. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get away, to run far and fast, or if he wanted to thrust deeper into her, to turn them over so that he could thrust and thrust and thrust...

He moaned and writhed. Finally, her weight settled firmly over his pelvis, his shaft buried in her to the hilt.

Her loud chanting was now practically shouted from her lips and she held the silver chalice in both hands level to her face, as if she were a priest of old blessing water, turning it holy. Xander felt a hysterical bubble of fear laced laughter get trapped in his throat at that image. His Mistress was no priest blessing holy water, instead she was a demon, a seer of Hell, cursing a potion of blood tainted wine.

She turned her face towards him, her fangs fully distended and her eyes a glittery gold. Then, she brought the silver chalice down and tilted it to his lips. The bitterly metallic mixture poured into his mouth even as her soft lilting voice rang in his ears. The potion burned his tongue as if he had swallowed a mouthful of the bright sunlight that his family hid themselves away from. He was *certain* that he was going to die. Fear rippled up his spine, and *still* she poured the vile liquid into his mouth. The awful taste caused a ball of nausea to form in his stomach.

A faint grin crossed her fang filled mouth and she reached out with one hand and pinched his nose closed. He could feel panic begin to well up inside of him and sweat beaded up on his brow. She shifted slightly and pleasure sizzled through his body and he almost gasped, but he *tried* not to swallow. He didn't *want* to feel that tingling stinging burning mixture slide down his throat, but he *needed* to breathe and black spots were forming in front of his eyes... and... and...

He swallowed.

And swallowed.

And then gasped in pure clean air to fill his empty lungs.

*Pain* blossomed inside of his stomach as soon as the foul potion hit it. Nausea swept over him and vertigo sent the room to spinning violently and Xander was *sure* that gravity just *stopped* suddenly because the only thing holding him to the bed was his shackles and the negligible weight of Drusilla. Icy hooks and claws tore it's way out of his gut and throughout his entire body, *digging* into tender and hidden organs and then *dragging* itself deeper into his flesh, imbedding itself into his very cells. *Agony* exploded in the base of his spine and traveled up his central nervous system, setting every nerve ending on *fire* along the way.

He could feel his balls try to go home and his erection try to wither, but the cockring wouldn't let them and his Mistress *rode* him, laughing and giggling and shrieking in the demonic language of the curse even as she raped his body for her own pleasure. And then the potion worked it's way up into his brain, reaching deep into his gray matter with acid tendrils, dissolving his thoughts and reforming him, making him, changing him, perverting him with Drusilla's Gift.

Mercy rained down upon him then. He blacked out from the pain.

*****
tbc...