A Dark Night
Wednesday August 12th
The headstone read Alexander LaVelle Harris. Loyal and trusted friend.1980-2001. The funeral was on a Wednesday afternoon. Xander had died on a Monday. Xanders fiancé, Anya Emerson had to be supported by Willow Rosenberg and Tara McClay, both of whom were crying. Rupert Giles stood by the headstone, barely concealed rage boiled beneath his calm surface. Beside him stood Dawn Summers, this was the third funeral she had attended in as many months. Cordelia Chase stood slightly behind the others, tears in her eyes.
To soon, before any of them were really ready to leave the sun began to set and they were forced away from the grave to continue their mourning indoors.
Monday August 10th
Xander jogged through the cemetery stake in hand in pursuit of the vampire. He felt personally responsible for picking up the slaying slack since Buffy had... The others weren't far away but Xander had broken off to chase a vampire he'd noticed, he hadn't expected to get this far away from them before he caught up with it, but it seemed to have vanished.
He turned to run back and help his friends when a pair of strong hands grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, he felt fangs pierce the side of his neck, and his scream died in his throat as the world began to go grey. The stake was still in his hand but he couldn't find the strength to do anything but grasp it.
The vampire was still holding him upright; it was the only reason he wasn't on the ground. He looked across the dark graveyard, his friends weren't that far away, if only he could find the strength to cry out. The vampire bit further into his neck, flesh ripped and a little blood escaped the vampires' mouth to trickle down Xanders chest and soak into his white t-shirt. The cemetery was beginning to blur and the edges of his vision went black and still he could see no one.
'Please save me, please someone.' He thought frantically as the last of his strength ebbed away. And then he saw it someone running towards him, a blonde haired man, with a long leather duster but he was to slow, he wasn't going to get there in time.
Xander fought the desire to just let go and float away. 'Hold on, just hold on till Spike gets here.' He focused all his remaining strength on watching Spike get closer agonisingly slowly.
It might have been the blood loss but he noticed how strangely beautiful he was. How he seemed to flow rather than run, and how power seemed to ooze out of his thin frame. The blonde vampire was close now 'Hold on, not long now.' Close enough for Xander to see that he was in full game face; oddly this didn't detract from his dangerous beauty.
Spike jumped, Xander could hear him snarl, but the sound seemed distant. Then suddenly the pressure was removed from Xanders back and neck as Spike tackled his attacker away. No longer being supported Xander crumpled to the ground. He could see the fight, Spike moved with the ease of a practiced predator, spinning and dancing with the other vampire, the arm that held a tapered stake swept down into the other vampires chest. Xanders last thought before he let the blackness carry him away was 'he came.'
Spike tore into the other vampire with a ferocity that surprised even himself. When the vampire was finally dust. He turned with a self-satisfied smirk to Xander. "Well, that showed 'im, didn't it whelp?"
His eyes landed on Xander, sprawled on the ground, his eyes were closed and he didn't appear to be breathing. "XANDER!" Spike bolted to Xanders side and pulled the boys head onto his lap. He was alive barely, his breathing was getting shallower, and the wound on his neck was seeping blood into Spikes' jeans.
Xander was dying; there were no two ways about it. Spike knew he should run and get the others they'd want to be here, but he didn't. He sat in silence cradling Xanders' dying body. How could this be? So soon after Buffy and Joyce. He lowered his head to drop a lingering kiss on Xanders' pale lips, it wasn't much, but enough to spur him into the only action he knew to take.
He slipped into game face and raised his own wrist to his fangs and bit deeply. He squeezed the wound until a pool of blood blemished his unspoiled skin. He lowered his wrist to Xanders' mouth and tipped the boys head back so the blood ran down his throat. Almost as soon as the blood had passed his lips Xander drew his last shuddering breath.
Everything seemed unreal to Spike. Sitting in the cemetery covered in blood, crying, with the body of a young man, Xander, in his arms. Xander, who was going to rise again as a demon.
"Xander?"
"XANDER!"
"Spike! Spike what happened?" The shouts from the others as they dashed in and out of the headstones towards him brought Spike back to reality. The blood soaking into the denim, the cold wind, Xanders dead weight on his lap. He found his voice.
"A vampire. I fought him, but I was to late." Anya had thrown herself down pulling Xander away from Spike.
"Did he drink?" Giles asked. "Spike. Did he drink?" This was it, he should tell them. Xander wouldn't want to be a demon; they would stop him rising again. "No." He lied.
And sealed Xanders fate along with his own.
Wednesday August 12th.
Spike kneeled facing Xanders' headstone. A half empty bottle of JD in his hand. He could feel the disturbance in the ground beneath him. A hand emerged from the dirt. Clawing and trying to get a better grip another hand surfaced and Xander pulled himself free of the tomb. The creature that crouched exhausted before Spike looked like Xander, with his dishevelled hair and comforting grin. But there was a spark missing from his eyes the thing that made him quintessentially Xander. His soul.
"Why?" Xander whispered.
"Because. Because..." On the other hand at least part of this demon was still Xander, Spike couldn't kill him. He removed his hand from the stake he'd been grasping within his coat. "Because I couldn't let you die." Spike reached forward and pulled Xander in to a passionate embrace.