TITLE: "Manipulations" AUTHOR: Cathryn (SpikeDchs@aol.com) DISTRIBUTION: Amothea's Angst Archive, Love's Bitch, Deadboy and Xander, wherever the hell it is that Belynda's archiving this series now, if she even is - let me know, please? Anyone else, please to ask. RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: Angelus/Xander (m/m slash, obviously, but let's get serious - this is pretty much a given from me, right?), non-consensual (though nothing like "Research Check", so don't start stressing or anything.). Also, mention of a previous rape. SUMMARY: Xander winds up in the hospital for "anemia". Angelus goes looking for him. Again. Things don't go quite as planned. Again. STANDARD OBLIGATORY STUFF: Underage people (under 18, or 21, I don't know, it confuses me) shouldn't read this. It's not legal. So I hope you feel real guilty. And people who hate slash and rather squicky stuff shouldn't read this either. I have better things to do with my life than read flames from idiots who felt compelled to read something they didn't like and then complain to *me* about it. NOTES: It might help to refresh your memory on the events of "Sweet Dreams", because that way this fic will make a little more sense. I'll link you and everything: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Orion/9979/cat_sweetdreams.html Or, if your browser hates Geocities (like everyone else does), try here instead: http://lavender.fortunecity.com/sydenham/318/sweetdreams.html ALSO: I know little to nothing about hospital procedures, and frankly I'm too lazy to research. So, don't take anything in here too seriously as far as the procedures and such; I made much of it up. Plus, I don't need to be jumped on by medical professionals about it, either, although I would be interested in being *politely* told the proper procedures. DEDICATED: To Chelle, 'cause it's her birthday. Happy twenty-first, Chelle! Everybody wish Chelle a happy birthday! Right now! DSICLAIMER: Let's see here. Everything in this is joss's except for Maggie, the nurse, and Dr. Polley. They're mine. "Schindler's List" belongs to I don't know who - Stephen Spielberg and the guy who wrote the book originally, I guess. "Angelus tightened his grip on Xander's head and twisted hard, taking a bitter pleasure in the sounds of the vertebrae in his neck cracking. He held on to Xander until his eyes had dulled completely,then let the corpse drop and walked away." ********** Xander jerked out of sleep, too shocked to even scream. As his stunned mind began to recover and organize itself, his first dazed thought was, < Aren't you supposed to wake *up* before you die in your dreams? > He lay stiff under his covers, the dream not fading from his memory like most dreams do. He was trying to push it away and think of something else when a soft knock sounded on his door. "Xander, are you awake?" "Yeah, Mom, I'm awake." Maggie stepped into the room, saying, "I just spoke with Mr. Giles. He told that whatever you've got is probably far more serious than it looks and that I should get you to the hospital and have you checked out right away." She began to search through the mess next to his closet for clean clothes. Xander watched her, growing angry as he realized that, once again, Giles had interfered. He *knew* Angelus probably wouldn't think to look for him at the hospital. Why else would he suggest it to Maggie? "No," he told Maggie as she approached him, having succeeded in finding clean, if mismatched, clothing. "No what?" Maggie replied, dropping the clothes on his bed. "I'm not going to the hospital," Xander told her. "Yes, you are," Maggie replied sharply. "*No,* Xander persisted angrily. "I *can't*." "Really." Maggie put her hands on her hips. "And why not?" < Well, Mom, because I need to be in a certain alleyway at a certain time, or this guy I've been screwing - yeah, I'm screwing guys now, by the way - for a couple weeks now is going to either find me and kill me, or hunt down my friends. > ". . . because," Xander answered weakly, wilting under Maggie's patented Exasperated Mother Stare. He could never tell her all that stuff. The stare became a glare. "Alexander LaVelle Harris, you are going to the hospital if I have to dress you and carry you to the car myself, is that clear?" Xander hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "Good. I'll be downstairs waiting for you." ********** Much to Xander's lack of surprise, he was diagnosed with the Sunnydale epidemic, anemia. He soon found himself in a hospital bed, hooked up to a blood drip. Still angry, Xander coldly ignored Maggie's attempts to cheer him up, feeling a mix of triumph and guilt when she gave up and left amid promises to return with his father during visiting hours. 'Visiting hours are over,' his memory spoke up suddenly. Xander, confused, searched his memory for whatever event that sentence had been connected to. ********** "Visiting hours are over ." "Well, I'm pretty much family." ". . . Why don't you come back during the day? . . ." ". . . it must just eat you up that I got there first." A kiss. "I don't know what just happened, but I wanna find out . . . What's this, White Knight? A little tarnish?" ********** That first kiss. The one that had started it all. It had happened right here. In this building. The earlier fear that Angelus wouldn't find him was replaced by the sickening certainty that he would. Of course he would think to look here. Xander stared miserably out the window, suddenly and irrationally wanting to hide from Angelus as badly as he had wanted to meet with him earlier. He huddled under the the thin hospital blanket for what little comfort it offered and watched the sky darken. Wait. What was he doing? Laying here waiting for Angelus to find him? Not even trying? The hell with that. Xander sat up slowly and pulled the IV needle out of his arm, wincing painfully. At that fortuitous moment, his doctor, Dr. Polley, walked into the room and looked at Xander sharply. "What are you doing?" "Leaving," Xander replied as he began to get out of bed. "No, you're not, Xander," Polley replied patiently as she recalled the mother's warnings to expect something like this. Xander ignored her, pausing by the bed for a moment to get his bearings. "Xander." Polley produced a syringe full of sedative, more as a scare tactic than anything else. Xander ignored that as well, eying the distance between her and the door. Realizing what he had in mind, Polley hastily moved toward him to block his path. A few seconds later, she was yelling in pain as Xander jammed his IV needle into her hand. Had he been healthy, he most likely would have been able to grab the syringe and run, but in his weakened state, Polley easily caught him mid-grab and injected him. The sedative took effect quickly, and Polley guided Xander back down onto the bed. He glared at her blearily. "Fuck you." Polley shook her head in disbelief as she picked the IV needle up from the floor where it had fallen, making a mental note to get it sterilized. She had, of course, had her share of patients who hated her simply because she was their doctor - it came with the territory - but none had actually attacked her with an IV before. It was actually rather resourceful. As she checked Xander to be sure that the drug had taken full effect before she left him alone, Polley wondered idly what it was that made the boy want to leave so badly. Finding Xander to be soundly asleep, she dismissed it, chalking it up to whatever it was that drove every patient's escape attempt, and called a nurse to change the needle and reattach Xander to the IV. ********** As soon as the sky was completely black, Angelus headed to the alley. Having had time to ponder the previous night's events more rationally, he had reluctantly concluded that raping the librarian probably wasn't the smartest move he could have made. Not to mention, Xander would be angry with him, or, more likely, furious. Livid. He had also decided that it would be fun making it up to him. In fact, he was kind of looking forward to it. Angelus spent a long time waiting in that alley, becoming increasingly angry when Xander failed to arrive. Finally, he realized that Xander wasn't going to show, and began to consider various other places he might be. Yesterday had been pretty much a no-brainer, but even Xander was too bright to try the same thing twice. He ruminated for a few moments, then hit upon the obvious conclusion. Where else would someone who had lost a lot of blood be but at the hospital? ********** "Excuse me, is Alexander Harris hospitalized here?" "Yes," the young nurse confirmed, "but visiting hours were over a while ago." "I want to see him, and I want assurances that we won't be disturbed." "Visiting hours -" "Let me put it this way." Angelus leaned in close to the nurse, suddenly vamping out, and growled, "If you direct me to his room, and sure we're left alone, I won't kill you." The nurse stared wide-eyed, too terrified to scream, and managed to squeak out, "Room one-twenty-five. Sir," she added for good measure. Angelus returned to his human face and smiled politely. "Thank you." He turned to go, but paused. "Send any security guards along," he told her casually, "and I'll kill them, you, *and* the patient." ********** It only took a moment to ascertain that Xander was in a drugged sleep; Angelus could smell the faint scent of the medicine in his system. He glanced disdainfully at the bag of blood hooked to Xander's IV drip, then turned his attention to Xander himself, running a hand lightly over the boy's hospital-gowned chest. Xander stirred under his touch; he would be waking up soon, Angelus realized. He quickly flicked the thin blanket to the floor and slid his hand up underneath the hospital gown. ********** Xander awoke slowly, muddled and aroused. His mind spun, clearing up ever so slightly, and he realized dimly that someone was touching him, slowly stroking his erect cock. He opened his eyes with difficulty, and found Angelus looking down at him. "You're awake," Angelus remarked, not skipping a beat in fondling Xander. "Finally." Xander, unable to think clearly through the after-effects of the drugs mingled with the pleasure coursing through his body, only stared at him. "Fucking a catatonic," Angelus muttered. "Fun." He shook Xander lightly. "Wake up!" Xander took a deep breath, struggling to organize his mind, but he couldn't. He began to ask Angelus to stop for a moment, so he could clear his head, but he froze as a sudden, disjointed thought came to him. < If I say no he'll kill me > He quieted instantly and closed his eyes. "Great." The kid was obviously completely out of it - Angelus wondered if Xander was even entirely aware of his presence. Experimentally, he slapped Xander lightly across the face. The boy's eyes opened slowly. "'M sorry," he mumbled thickly. "I didn't mean it." Angelus paused, then dismissed the confusing comment. He leaned over and kissed Xander's lips lightly. "Much better," he whispered approvingly, and turned away, missing the relief that crossed Xander's face. Angelus raised the flimsy gown to the boy's waist and straddled his legs. Xander tensed; he didn't know why, but the thought of Angelus touching him was suddenly and unexpectedly frightening. Don't, he pleaded silently, too afraid to say it out loud. Angelus licked his lips and lowered his head to Xander's erection, taking what he could fit comfortably in his mouth from the odd angle he was bent at. He began to suck, cupping the testicles in one hand. Xander moaned restlessly, squirming. The sound was so similar to his usual cries of pleasure that Angelus scarcely even registered it. The real reason for Xander's moan, however, was very much the opposite of pleasure - the events of the previous night and his dream had combined with Angelus's unwanted touch to trap Xander in a terrifying, nightmarish scenario. He trembled miserably, struggling to keep his fear and lack of desire from Angelus, wishing desperately for something - anything - to happen that would make him stop. Make him leave Xander alone. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, whimpering helplessly as pleasure he didn't want suddenly burst through him. Angelus, focussed exclusively on what he was doing, was utterly unaware of his lover's fearful misery. He slipped his hand down and thrust a finger into Xander's anus, sucking harder. Xander tensed and began to panic. Suddenly, Angelus heard something, a single word gasped so softly that, had he been human, he would have missed it completely. "No . . ." Angelus froze in disbelief and raised his head slowly, abruptly becoming aware of the scent of Xander's fear for the first time. "What did you say?" he demanded, unwilling to accept that Xander was actually afraid of him. "Nothing," Xander whispered desperately. Angelus slid upwards and lay down on top of him so that their faces were just inches apart. "Don't lie to me," he ordered coldly. "What did you say?" He felt Xander begin to tremble harder underneath him, and watched in stunned amazement as the boy's eyes actually filled with tears. "Nothing," he pleaded in a tiny whisper. "I didn't say anything." Angelus sat up slowly, his mind reeling. He had imagined Xander angry with him, possibly furious. Never afraid. He sat back a bit and found that Xander's erection was gone, and realized that the only thing that had been keeping him hard was the stimulation. It hadn't occurred to Angelus that Xander wouldn't want him. Stunned, Angelus slipped off of the bed, one thought in mind: to get out and leave Xander the hell alone before he ruined things completely. ********** Xander lay tense for some time, curled up tightly on his side, waiting for and dreading Angelus's return. As time passed, and his mind began to clear just a little, he began to realize that the vampire was most likely not going to come back. That didn't prevent the frantic desire to leave from growing unavoidably stronger. Finally, he sat up, pulling out his IV for a second time. He found his clothes and dressed quickly, then paused to study his pale self in the mirror with a frown. He was so obviously sick - he would never get out looking like this. He thought rapidly for a few moments before his eyes settled on the still-dripping IV needle. An idea struck - copying something he'd seen on "Schindler's List," Xander rubbed some of the drops on his face to give himself a healthier color that, he decided, would pass muster as long as he wasn't studied too closely. It worked beautifully - moving purposefully, but not too quickly, Xander was able to evade the attention of the staff, and was soon outside, where something occurred to him. Where was he going to go? The library was, obviously, off-limits. So, for that matter, was The Bronze. He couldn't go home - his parents would just bring him back. They wouldn't understand that he couldn't go until it was light again. After a few moments of debate, a safe destination came to him, and Xander began to hurry through the darkness. ********** Giles, trying to convince himself that he was interested in the book that lay before him, started violently at the sound of the doorbell. It had been a long, hellish day. He had had to force himself to leave the relative safety of his house, even in broad daylight. He'd managed to convince himself that the library was just as safe as it was on any ordinary school day - that Angelus was gone. But he had only been able to make up to the the third step to the stacks before the compulsion to bolt into his office and lock the door overpowered him. Inside, he had sat at his desk and trembled violently, reliving the attack as he had for much of the previous night. He had been able to collect himself as quickly as he had only through keen awareness of his very public suroundings. Realizing that returning to the library had been a fatal mistake, he had arranged for a substitute for the next few days and gone home, wondering how long it would be before he felt safe in his own library again. Once home, he had phoned Xander, ending the call cold with terror from Xander's tense, defeated assertion that he intended to meet with Angelus that night. The only thing that terrified Giles more than the thought of being raped again was that of Xander suffering the same thing from his "lover". Desperate for a way to keep the boy safe for at least one night, Giles had finally remembered the bite, and called Xander's mother about hospitalizing him. Giles stared at the door warily for so long that the bell was rung again, and he faintly heard a voice calling his name. "Giles? Giles?" "Xander?" Giles hastily grabbed a cross and stake in case of trickery, then opened the door cautiously. "Xander! What are you doing here? I thought you were in the hospital." Xander's voice, when he replied, was small and fearful, so different from his usual tone. "I had to leave. He found me." A sick chill settled through Giles. "Come in." Xander stepped in. Then, silently, he launched himself at Giles. Giles gave a startled yell and very nearly flung the boy to the floor before he realized that Xander was not attacking him, but clinging to him tightly, shaking. He brought his arms up firmly around Xander, cradling him gently. After a moment, Xander began to talk into Giles's shoulder. Giles listened closely, and as he pieced the disjointed ramblings together, the conscious realization fully hit him for the first time: The previous night's events had been as deeply traumatizing to Xander as they had been to himself. This was followed instantly by another realization. Instead of assuaging the situation, his manipulations had caused the very thing Giles had been trying to prevent. ********** Giles sank wearily into bed that night, hoping to get some badly needed sleep. His body was exhausted and his mind overtaxed, but neither would shut down, even for a few minutes. So Giles lay there, shifting into a new position every few minutes as his sleep deprived mind jumped from one bizarre topic to the next in no particular order. After nearly half an hour of this, though it felt like far longer, there was a tiny, tentative knock on his door that his hyperactive senses jumped upon instantly. "Yes?" The door opened a little, just enough for Xander to put his head through it. "Giles?" "Yes?" Giles repeated, already suspecting what Xander had in mind. He had called Xander's parents, offering them a simplified - and partly falsified - version of events: Xander was terrified of being attacked at the hospital; apparently a bad reaction to a sedative he had been given. He had persuaded them that the mental harm that would be caused by returning Xander in his current state would far outweigh the physical good. Xander himself, still slightly affected by the drugs, had been convinced that his parents would bring him back anyway and had refused to go home, so Giles had received reluctant permission to keep him at his house, with the understanding that Xander would return in the morning, when the drugs had completely worn off. At the door, Xander hesitated for a long moment. "Never mind," he muttered. "It's stupid." "You don't want to be alone?" Giles guessed softly. He shook his head. "It's not stupid." He'd had his doubts about leaving Xander alone in the spare room, but he had been asleep before Giles had even left the room. Perhaps a nightmare had woken him. "You can come in if you want to," Giles continued. "I'd rather like the company - maybe then I could get a little sleep." Xander hesitated a moment longer, then slipped inside, pausing to make sure that the door was shut securely tight, and hastened over to the bed, silently marvelling over the wonderful novelty of joining someone in bed for reasons other than sex. A moment later, Xander was nestled in Giles's arms, the blanket tucked firmly around them both, clutching him with a little of the desperate intensity of earlier, clinging, as he had the night before, to the feeling of being held for no reason other than comfort. Giles held him close, a feeling of fierce, almost paternally intense protectiveness toward Xander rising inside him. They lay like that for some time, silent, until Xander murmured drowsily, "Giles? I'm sorry." "For what?" Giles asked, taken aback. "For . . ." Xander paused to collect his thoughts, something which had become much easier over the course of the past few hours. "I didn't stop him. I didn't even try," Xander whispered, hiding his face against Giles's shoulder, unable to look at him. "I just *stood* there and let him - hurt you." "No," Giles replied immediately, disturbed by the intensity of the guilt in Xander's voice. He silently cursed Angelus. "You did the only thing you could do. Xander, trying to stop him would only have served to make things worse for the both of us. And you did do something. You turned away." He hugged Xander tightly. "I am so grateful for that. It was the only thing you could do." Giles shuddered inwardly as he briefly contemplated how seeing, as well as hearing, the attack would have affected Xander. "I know," Xander admitted after a moment. "But . . . I just wanted to be sure." "I understand," Giles replied quietly. He paused. Xander's apology had brought to the center of his mind something that had been nagging at the edges all day. "I'm sorry as well. Last night, when I - well . . ." The fact that Xander happened to be sharing his bed at the moment made articulating what he meant exceedingly difficult. Xander knew what he meant, though, and tensed slightly, bracing himself for an apology he didn't want to hear. Giles continued to flounder. "I had - no right - to . . . do that. He threatened to kill you," he said urgently, needing to convey to Xander his reasons for doing what he had done. "I had no choice -" "So you're sorry it happened," Xander interrupted bitterly. "I get that. Moving on." "No, that's not it at all," Giles protested. God, he simply could not do the right thing where Xander was concerned lately, now, could he? "I - didn't ask. There was no permission given. In my mind, that has always constituted violation. Particularly in circumstances like last night's." "It didn't feel like violation," Xander objected softly. "It felt like nice. I don't get a whole lot of nice." Giles sighed softly, understanding and accepting the explanation. A few moments passed, then Xander muttered, "Besides, at that point, if you'd stopped, I would have kicked you." Giles laughed more than the mild joke really warranted, relieved by the trademark Xander tactic - make a joke when things are too serious. It seemed so much like a return to normalcy that Giles, encouraged, kissed Xander on the forehead and allowed himself to pretend for a few brief seconds that everything was going to be all right.