*****

"Hey guys?"

Still no response. Xander came to the conclusion that he would be better off speaking to lemmings than the Scoobies at this point (well, two out of seven wasn't bad). The combo of tousled hair, tired moans and unappreciative expressions made him wonder if he was actually going to get out of this dorm room alive.

"Guys? There's something -"

//Was there actually a point to this?// he thought, considering the fact that all eyes were apparently shut and quizzical looks adorned their faces.

"FIRE! FIRE! PAGING DOCTOR POT ROAST!" he screamed.

The, "AAAAAAAAHHHH!" apparently came from Willow. "WE'RE GONNA DIE! GET THE FIRE HOSE", was all she could manage before swiping at the imaginary smoke, then opening a cautionary eye. "Oh," she said, "no fire."

She had that kind of bemused look Xander recognized as the hallmark of Cloud Cuckoo Land. He was a regular there, but not for much longer.

"Xander!"

Buffy scruffled with her hair - it needed shampooing, for the third time in two days - which probably had something to do with the amount of sleep she had NOT been getting. She kept on telling him just how much of a bitch end-of-year papers could really be.

"Okay, out with it soldierboy. What is it?"

Summoning up all his energy, so much in fact, that he was forming a suggestive sheen on his face, he just said it.

"Guys, meet your new dorm buddy - well, at least I *WILL* be next year..." he ended. Awkward smiles were always his fort�.

Watching intently for a reaction, no one could have missed the spark that lit up in their eyes.

"Xander, that's great! I mean...well done, you. Good choice. Of course there are rules 'n' stuff...uh, YAY!" said Willow as she flung her arms around his neck.

"Woah, there fella!" was about all he could say - that and "Choking now...", that awkward smile fading into relief.

Buffy chimed in as well. "Xander, this is like, the best thing I've heard in ages! This is gonna be soooo cool, I promise!" She opened her arms for a hug and barely managed to contain herself - she wasn't wanting to overdose on happiness due to the fact that she often cracked ribs in the process. And they were never her own.

"Oh," said Buffy, her smile turning to frown.

"What's wrong Buffy? Aren't you happy Xander's coming to university next year?" Willow, too, was looking downcast by the Slayer's apparent change of heart while Xander wore the "I'm So Not Getting This At All" look.

"Well, you know what this means, don't you Will?"

Buffy took one glance at Willow, then they both turned on Xander.

"What? WHAT? Do I have a booger on my face?" he exclaimed.

This was the moment of fear, the moment he had been hoping to avoid, the moment where they were going to do that synchronized talking thing that wigged him out so much.

"You're going to be a *FRESHMAN*, Xander." He still didn't get it.

Willow turned on her heels and opened the door with a little imperious gesture, "We're going to be your superiors. You have to do everything we say, eat an icky combo of jello, ravioli and other not so nice tasting stuff. Of course, you might *DIE* before that, 'cos you gotta check our food for rat poison, 'n' other nasty things like...like...like *NASTY* things."

Then they all doubled up in laughter.

Willow regained her composure briefly and said "You know, guys, I think I have a talent for repetition. You think I could use it to tour the country some day and earn some not-very-much amounts of money?"

"Weeell..." Xander replied, "it works for Regis Philbin and Oprah..."

Then it really hit him. //They weren't freaked! They're not upset! YIPPEE!//

***

Xander had thought, for some inexplicable reason, that the gang would actually be quite freaked that he was going to the university. After all, it hadn't been one of their best years as a group of friends, and what with one thing and another, things had tended to slide of late. Riley and the Initiative had kept Buffy occupied, while Willow had a major biggie with Tara and the Oz issue. All in all, that kinda gave out the signal that things were breaking up. Hopefully his announcement would put a stop to that, the point being to join the gang and reunite the group they had been in Sunnydale High School. Seemed like all was on track so far! Giles had accepted the news with great "aplomb". He only remembered that word because Giles had actually said it. There was much patting of the back as if he had just become a man. //Anya found that out a while ago...// he chuckled to himself. Giles had also cracked open his finest bottle of brandy, which was surprising seen as the Watcher was known for his stinginess with alcohol. Xander noted the place where Giles had extracted the magnificent delicacy from and resolved to attempt to retrieve the bottle at a later date.

Also, another surprise came from Tara. He didn't know her too well, but she seemed like an easy to like person. She had screamed in delight and hugged him so much he thought he would burst into tears. How could this person who did not know him that well be soooo happy for him? They'd had a nice little chat, just the two of them, and decided to organize a party of one kind or another. Willow was agreed, and Buffy had not said no either. However, he would still see Tara during the meetings at Giles' house and talk to her more.

Oz as well, had just popped up out of nowhere, and found Xander's news an excuse to invite him to an in-house party. The word was spread to the witches and Buffy, and even Giles said "Alright..." - eventually - although he was secretly delighted at the prospect of a party.

So that was that.

When he phoned Cordelia, she too had bounced up and down so much while congratulating Xander that his ears were still fragile more than an hour later. Angel had been in the background and only commented briefly, something like "Don't party too hard, will you?" the smile leaping out of the phone. Despite his past dealings with Angel, Xander softened up for good once he heard Angel's congrats. Wesley had been out - as had Riley and Doyle - but Xander was assured by everyone that they would be told, and so no doubt he would get a few calls later in the day.

//Well, hello people. Not much of a big thing, but I mean...really...wow! I never dreamed I knew this many people, let alone that they'd all be happy for me!// he mused.

The one teensy-weensy complication, though, was *THAT*. The thing he had co-inhabiting his basement, the REAL blonde bombshell (even if it was peroxide induced...). I mean, so what if when Xander heard "blonde bombshell", fangs didn't come into it? This was Sunnyhell after all.

//Where did I pick up *THAT* one?// Sunnyhell wasn't a name he normally used, but hey, it wasn't inaccurate.

The F.B.B (Former Big Bad as he had affectionately - or not - come to know him) was the last person on his list of People to tell about his new educational decision. Xander began to march in the direction of home, because he knew the F.B.B was there; he was living there after all.

But Xander wasn't prepared for what was coming.

***

Xander casually strolled toward his parents' place, brown hair all over the place in the wind, his chocolatey eyes melting in the light of sunset. He wore casual clothes, a nice pair of sweats, a t-shirt that said "I'm with Stoopid" (he thought the arrow pointing up kinda gave it all away), and a battered old pair of sneakers.

//Hello? What's this...?//

The door was open, and he recounted the amount of times his mom had screamed at him to keep the door closed and locked, "You know this isn't the best part of town..." was Mom's usual line. He figured that meant something about thieves and other...was the word "people" too specific a term?...being out at night.

Broken glass crunched beneath his feet and tears were starting to well up in their recognized fashion. Dark liquid stained the walls, but it was still dripping which meant that the fight was recent. Old family photos and fresh washing were strewn all over the place, glasses broken, frames smashed with the wood poking through the actual pictures.

Xander thought it had stopped. His dad had started a 12-step Program with Alcoholics Anonymous, but obviously wasn't sticking to it any more. Xander had been so hopeful, he thought things were finally turning themselves around when it came to his parents. Sure, they'd been having hard times - in fact, they'd been having them since they married - but all of that was supposed to be changing.

So much for dreams.

Suddenly Xander stopped as he walked into the kitchen. The whites of his eyes showed as they widened at the sight of the knives in the wall. Someone must have thrown them pretty hard; they were embedded in the wall a good 4 inches.

The windows in here at least were still partially intact, partially being the operative word. These were supposed to be shatter proof, Xander's suggestion to Mom so they didn't lose as much paying for new windows every few months.

//What's that noise?//

It seemed like shushing noises, or something. He carefully walked toward the basement door, stopping to check around corners. Dad was good at surprises.

The door seemed to be locked, which just worried him even more. He knocked on the door, and whispered "Mom?"

"Xander? Is that you, mate?" Who could miss that British voice?

"Spike? What are you doing? Open the door!" He tried the lock, and stopped when he heard the key turning in the door. It opened to a view of a ruffled vampire, sans big-black-coat thingie.

"I-I tried to stop him Xander. He-he was beating her up, smacking her around, and..."and he drifted off, his face showing he was in turmoil although he said nothing.

The shivering mass in the corner could only have been his mom. Her hair was disheveled, stained with some kind of sauce. It was wet so it shined in the light, but that was also because there were glass fragments in her hair. The blue cardigan of wool he'd given her for Christmas was torn around her shoulders, the heels of her cosmic blue shoes were snapped. "What do you think?" he'd said to her, pulling out the shoes from behind his back. They weren't wrapped, but they had a big red silk ribbon on them. His mom had loved them. "Xander! They're gorgeous! But...wait. When I saw these in the shop a few weeks ago they were $220! Where the hell did you get the money from?" She'd grown tearful as he'd told her why he'd been taking extra hours in the Bucket of Blood on the edge of town, and also the night work at Whimpy Burger. He knew she'd liked them, he said, so he decided to get them for her.

But they were torn apart now, and somehow managed to match everything else she was wearing in a hideous kind of irony. That's why he'd bought them. She'd had the perfect outfit to go with them, they just weren't cheap.

A firm hand grabbed his shoulder and held him where he was.

"Xander, um...uh, there's something you ought to know about yer mum." He sounded choked up. That was definitely not the norm for William the Bloody; of course, he was chipped now wasn't he?

"And just what is it Spike, that my father did," he said, teeth gritted, "that I couldn't possibly tell from looking at her, huh?"

Spike stood stock still, his face momentarily taking on a look of despair Xander obviously wasn't supposed to have seen, because Spike caught him looking and took a step back.

"Come on, what could have been so bad that it shook up big bad Spike, killer of two Slayers and possible suspect for my Mom's present condition?" he snapped.

If that didn't get the blonde freak's reaction, Xander was out of ideas. Yet, the suave vamp didn't rise to the bait this time.

"He raped her. There. I managed to say that fine. " He quickly shifted in and out of game face, hoping the little runt hadn't caught it.

*****

The color swiftly drained from Xander's face, his eyes could only go wider while he struggled to grasp the full concept of what he'd just been told.

"Wh-who? I mean...wh-wh-why? When?" //Oh fuck. I've reduced him to a fucking gibbering mess. His mum's not ten paces away and he can't even move. What is *WRONG* with me?//

Then for no apparent reason, Spike came out with "I know what you're thinking! Do you think I'm completely heartless? Do you really think that just because my heart doesn't beat and I have a fucking demon soul that I LIKE the idea of rape and wifebeating?" He was biting back hard on his anger, and the boy just looked on in shock.

"Do you want to know what happened or will you just start accusing me, you little twat?" he rasped.

"Give me, uh...a minute to process this Spike. My head is...er...kinda majorly *FUCKED* right now" he whispered, gesticulating wildly with his fingers.

"All right," said Spike softly, "see to yer mum. See if she might actually respond to a hug from a clumsy oaf like you, 'cos I think she freaked when I went vampy."

Xander gingerly stepped over to the corner of the room at the bottom of his stairs, and opened the big oak closet. He pulled out a soft, thick blanket, blue and red with black and stars on it, and walked over to where his mom was cowering. He tried to drape it over her and she flinched slightly, then seemed to recognize her son for an instant. His eyes shivered as they met hers. There was nothing there, almost as if someone had switched off her mind to the outside world. Pain rose in his chest like acid rising up from the inside, all the while tears falling from his face. He'd barely noticed.

He reached out his hand to touch her face but she drew back sharply. That hurt Xander, the fact that she was so scared. He understood how that felt, the sense of fear, the sense of being trapped in your own mind, walking in circles in the dark.

Spike watched the scene unfold, wondering what it must be like to be that scared. He realized he hadn't felt fear since...well, he couldn't remember. //Funny,// he thought. //Xander looks so caring, so patient, even though his mum can't respond. She draws away from him and still 'e tries to comfort her. 's almost like he understands...//

Spike saw Xander was helping the poor wretch up, and decided it might not be a bad idea if he helped. Her unresponsiveness meant she was essentially dead weight, and would be quite hard to carry.

"Cor blimey! She's like bloody ice!"

Xander paled some more until it seemed he could've been a male Snow White. "I'd better go get some wheels. We'll take her to the hospital, and we'll talk; you and me." There was something in that voice that made Spike think. There was something more, but he couldn't understand what it might be.

//What are you thinkin' Nummy? What's going on in that head of yours?//

***

The walls were a sterile white, void of life and sensation. Lights in the ceiling seemed to whisper something softly, then stop, shining all the while.

It hadn't been a long wait at all. A nice guy, Doc Steinberg - or something that sounded similar - was treating his mom. He entered the little room where Xander and Spike were sat after ten minutes with his mom, coming through large doors that were also sterile white. //Fucking horrible.// thought Spike.

"Okay, here it is. She's suffered lacerations to the left upper arm and right thigh, probably a knife of some kind."

Spike growled something in a guttural voice, and then looked up. "Er, Doc, that wouldn't be a normal kitchen knife, now, would it?"

The doctor looked up and said, "Possibly," then with more than a hint of suspicion, "Why?"

"Oh, nothing" said Spike, but his eyes belied his words, "just that those were probably the three knives I grabbed from 'er old man, when I came in the kitchen. I threw them at him." A hideously evil grin broke out on his face.

The doctor looked at him, "Right. Thank you. It helps to know there are people who don't let others get off without at least a warning of some kind.."

"What do you mean, warning?" Spike's voice was the epitome of innocence. "One of them caught him in the leg. Pity it didn't hit elsewhere. He'll be awfully sore I should think...wouldn't you say Doc?" his voice laden with sincerity. His reply was a wolfish grin, from beneath the rim of a pair of glasses.

"Moving on," he turned to Xander, "your mom has suffered injuries to the calves and ankles, also some damage to the hips. The bruising indicates a repeated action; no doubt the result of kicking."

Xander barely took in the last words, he was still in shock. "Uh, yeh...Spike," he said pointing in the blonde's direction, "said my dad was kicking her." Xander was still pale, and that was what worried Spike the most.

//I think it's almost time we had that little talk...//

The doc took one look at Xander and felt that it was not the time to elaborate on his mother's other injuries.

"Look, I can see you're in shock. I'll get you something to drink - we can talk later. For now, I've put your mom on a strong sedative. She'll be asleep for a long time yet."

Xander gazed up briefly, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

The doctor took in the fine pair, which prompted him to ask, "Do you both want to stay? I can have beds made up for you in 10 minutes."

Spike shifted uneasily, "I wouldn't mind...if that's okay with *YOU* of course Xan..." That caught Xander's attention!

"Uh, yeh...of course, I mean, you practically saved her." he said. Still too distant and weak for Spike's comfort.

"Well. I'll see to it. I'll get you both some hot drinks. Remember this room is yours alone, so feel free to talk about things." He nodded at Spike and gestured toward the door as he walked. Spike followed.

Once the door was closed, the doctor said, "Can I ask what relation you are to the patient or the son, if you don't mind?"

"His name's Xander, and I'm a...friend." That last word came out in strangled tones.

"Well, Spike. I need to ask you to watch out for Xander. I've seen cases like this before, and really, Xander is deeper in shock than I would expect, even from a relative. In fact, I'm very worried about the state he's in, and I'll be giving you some pills to give him."

Spike shook his head, "Nuh-uh. He won't take 'em. I know Xander; he's a stubborn git!"

The doc leveled a conspiratorial look in his direction, then turned to look at Xander through the window - the picture of deathly silence.

"He doesn't have to know, and to be honest, I'd rather he didn't."

***

"Xander. Hello? Xander you fucking pouf..."

Spike was trying to grab the boy's attention, even resorting to throwing cushions and swearing at him - well, that wasn't *EXACTLY* out of the ordinary.

"Sorry," said Xander. His eyes had that kinda distant look again. "What were you saying?"

Spike pulled up a chair in front of the lad and positioned himself so they were face to face.

"Look. I'm gonna be straight 'ere. YOU are in shock. I also happen to think that there's something more to your mood than meets the eye, but I can't seem to put me finger on it. You said at the house we would talk, so come on Nummy; let's talk."

Xander looked up, "I'm not gonna get out of this one am I?"

He was met with a mildly amused expression, and an, "I think not, mate."

Spike's fingers ran themselves through his blonde locks and found their resting-place on the edge of the chair. Xander had tensed his muscles, and Spike could feel it. There was also fear.

"Well? I'm waiting..." Imperious British voices always had a smidgen of no-nonsense about them.

"Eh, okay. Well, see...it's like this." More staring.

"When I was about 15, I...uh...had an...*experience*."

Spike was paying deep attention to this. There was gonna be something he had to find out, he just knew it.

"It was late, the Bronze was closing up, and as you know I'm a big party person." Xander smiled and then it faded, leaving little creases as the only evidence of its existence.

"I was quite drunk, and I was asked to leave 'cos they had to lock up. It was about 1:30 a.m. and I was going down the alley to the Bronze so I could come home." Spike was twitching, nervously, but it wasn't like the guy noticed it. What *Spike* was noticing was the terrifying fear, the terror literally oozing from the kid. What was so big it could do this?

"What happened?" said Spike.

"I-I...I couldn't...it was too dark..." his voice straining to remain even.

The poor sod was shaking violently by now.

"There were three of them, but I couldn't see their faces. I could smell it, Spike. I could smell the evil on them...I...they were too strong..." he broke off sobbing, the tears staining his shoes.

Now it was time for Spike's eyes to go bulgy.

"They raped me Spike. They raped me!"

Spike grabbed hold of Xander, the boys face a pool of grief. Spike could feel his body being wracked with spasms of terror and pain. He lay down on the bed next to Xander, the reluctance seeping out of the boy's body. So fragile. So very, very fragile.

Spike made purring noises, shushing lightly to calm him.

"Hey, hey! Come on, it's alright, luv. I'm here. No-one's gonna hurt you." Damn right they weren't! Somehow, Xander managed to speak between his shaking and crying, "Seeing her like that...I knew exactly how she felt, it was so horrible! I-I can't understand..." Then he whipped his head up and pleaded, "Please Spike! Please don't leave me! I don't wanna be alone."

Spike closed his arms round the shoulders that melted like butter in his embrace.

One thing was for certain. Spike was feeling something he wasn't ready to try and comprehend - yet. Just an irresistible urge to comfort the person who was supposed to be his most bitter enemy, or one of them anyway.

//What's happening?!//

"Don't worry," he said, drawing the cover up and over them both. "I won't leave you; now or ever." And with that, an unspoken power whispered throughout the room "Done!"

That was when sleep came. A deep, untroubled sleep that laid claim to a caring vampire, and a boy with chocolate eyes.

*****
TBC...