Fic: Deciphering Fire, Pt 9
Mar. 11th, 2006 01:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wesleysgirlPrevious parts here or tagged.
Spike can see -- and not that it isn't a nice view, dangling where he can see Xander's arse -- but he can't say anything, not even when he catches a glimpse of the young kid following them. Seems like Dawn's on top of it, though.
"Are you okay?" she asks him. "What's your name?"
"Joe," the kid says. "I can't find my mom." Kid's got to be in his mid-teens at least, but going through something like this tends to bring out the child in people -- Spike's seen it before. "She went out to get milk, and then the power went out, and... that was a monster, huh?"
"Basically," Dawn agrees. "You can stay with us until we find her, okay?"
There's the sound of a key in a lock, and then Xander's jostling Spike through a doorway and down onto a couch. Kneeling beside him. Spike moves his eyes deliberately toward Xander, hoping he'll understand. "Yeah, I know," Xander says, picking up one of Spike's hands. "It's okay. Can you move your fingers?"
With effort, Spike makes his fingers twitch -- not much, but enough. The movement sends little zaps of pain through his nervous system. He does it again, and manages a bit more movement.
"Good," Xander says, rubbing his hip.
"Is he okay?" Dawn sounds anxious; Spike can't see her, but he can hear her well enough.
"I think so. Whatever it is seems to be wearing off," Xander tells her.
Dawn makes a sound of relief, then says something to Joe half under her breath. Spike can hear them moving around, but he's focused on Xander, who's gently rubbing his arms and legs.
Xander sees him watching and raises an eyebrow. "What, you think I won't use any excuse to get my hands on you?" he asks softly. Spike manages to move his arm enough to grab Xander's hand, and Xander smiles. "There, see? It's coming back. We're safe here. No hurry."
Maybe it's the lingering results of whatever magic Dawn shoved through him when she was toasting that demon, but Spike's feeling revoltingly sentimental. Wants to call Xander all sorts of stupid pet names, wants to hold him close and just breathe in the scent of him, all warm and human and alive.
Good thing he can't do anything but lie there.
Xander's massaging Spike's hand now, one finger at a time. Each touch is slow, deliberate, driving the confusion from Spike's misfiring nerves and warming him at the same time. He can move his feet easily now, flex his toes inside his boots.
"How's he doing?" Dawn asks, her voice suddenly closer, and Spike can turn his head to look at her where she's leaning over the back of the sofa.
"Better," Spike says; his voice feels too wide for his throat, but at least he can talk again. "Next time, try something else first, yeah?"
"I didn't even know I was going to do that," Dawn says. "It was as big a surprise to me as it was to you."
"Somehow I doubt that," Spike grumbles, struggling to sit up. Xander helps him without a word, getting him into a position where he can lean against the arm of the sofa. Bit looks worn out -- there are dark circles under her eyes, and her hand is resting on her bump, stroking it mindlessly. "Looks like you ought to get some sleep," he says.
"I did," Dawn reminds him. "Remember?" She gives Xander an arched look. "I think I fried his brain."
"Nah," Xander says easily. "He was always this stupid." It's said with affection, but that doesn't mean Spike's going to let it slide by without comment.
"Like you should talk," he says, punching Xander in the shoulder, but there's not enough force behind it and he hopes that'll be blamed on his overall weakness. "Got more sense than the lot of you put together."
"Uh-huh." Xander seems unimpressed.
"He doesn't look dead to me," Joe says, coming over to join Dawn. His thin upper arm's bare where she cut his shirt away from the wound she bandaged.
"It's kind of a long story," Dawn says.
Joe looks worried and twitchy. "I want to go see if my mom's back," he says. It's not asking if someone will go with him, but they all know that's what he's doing.
"Okay, come on," Xander says, getting up. Spike can hear something in his knee grind as he does it. Fuck humans and the way they get old. "Is it on this floor?"
Shaking his head, Joe says, "No, it's up two."
"Take a weapon," Spike says, because there's no point in telling Xander not to go.
"Right," Xander says. "I'll just pull one out the artillery that's handily located in my ass."
Joe's eyes widen, but Dawn just rolls hers and says, "I haven't gone totally mundane, you know. There's some stuff in the cupboard next to the fridge."
Xander and Joe go to check it out the supplies, and Spike shifts himself into a more comfortable position, flexing his hands. There's only a faint prickle left to show anything was wrong. He gets up, cautious, waiting to see if his legs will hold him, but they do.
Dawn's watching him, ignoring Xander and Joe as they rattle a sword and some kind of club from the tangle of vacuum cleaner hoses in the tall cupboard. "I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. Killed the demon, didn't you?" Spike tilts his head to one side and gives her a little smile.
But she bites her lip, frowns. It's quiet, Xander and Joe not saying anything where they are, a few yards away. "Yeah, but that's not what I meant," Dawn says, and Spike sees what she's talking about -- for bringing them here, together, for tricking them, and he smiles again.
"Don't be sorry," he repeats, and lifts his head to meet Xander's gaze, that one gorgeous brown eye, perfect enough that it almost makes up for the fact that the other was lost. Xander looks back at him, steadily, and Spike answers for both of them. "We're not."
TBC
Spike can see -- and not that it isn't a nice view, dangling where he can see Xander's arse -- but he can't say anything, not even when he catches a glimpse of the young kid following them. Seems like Dawn's on top of it, though.
"Are you okay?" she asks him. "What's your name?"
"Joe," the kid says. "I can't find my mom." Kid's got to be in his mid-teens at least, but going through something like this tends to bring out the child in people -- Spike's seen it before. "She went out to get milk, and then the power went out, and... that was a monster, huh?"
"Basically," Dawn agrees. "You can stay with us until we find her, okay?"
There's the sound of a key in a lock, and then Xander's jostling Spike through a doorway and down onto a couch. Kneeling beside him. Spike moves his eyes deliberately toward Xander, hoping he'll understand. "Yeah, I know," Xander says, picking up one of Spike's hands. "It's okay. Can you move your fingers?"
With effort, Spike makes his fingers twitch -- not much, but enough. The movement sends little zaps of pain through his nervous system. He does it again, and manages a bit more movement.
"Good," Xander says, rubbing his hip.
"Is he okay?" Dawn sounds anxious; Spike can't see her, but he can hear her well enough.
"I think so. Whatever it is seems to be wearing off," Xander tells her.
Dawn makes a sound of relief, then says something to Joe half under her breath. Spike can hear them moving around, but he's focused on Xander, who's gently rubbing his arms and legs.
Xander sees him watching and raises an eyebrow. "What, you think I won't use any excuse to get my hands on you?" he asks softly. Spike manages to move his arm enough to grab Xander's hand, and Xander smiles. "There, see? It's coming back. We're safe here. No hurry."
Maybe it's the lingering results of whatever magic Dawn shoved through him when she was toasting that demon, but Spike's feeling revoltingly sentimental. Wants to call Xander all sorts of stupid pet names, wants to hold him close and just breathe in the scent of him, all warm and human and alive.
Good thing he can't do anything but lie there.
Xander's massaging Spike's hand now, one finger at a time. Each touch is slow, deliberate, driving the confusion from Spike's misfiring nerves and warming him at the same time. He can move his feet easily now, flex his toes inside his boots.
"How's he doing?" Dawn asks, her voice suddenly closer, and Spike can turn his head to look at her where she's leaning over the back of the sofa.
"Better," Spike says; his voice feels too wide for his throat, but at least he can talk again. "Next time, try something else first, yeah?"
"I didn't even know I was going to do that," Dawn says. "It was as big a surprise to me as it was to you."
"Somehow I doubt that," Spike grumbles, struggling to sit up. Xander helps him without a word, getting him into a position where he can lean against the arm of the sofa. Bit looks worn out -- there are dark circles under her eyes, and her hand is resting on her bump, stroking it mindlessly. "Looks like you ought to get some sleep," he says.
"I did," Dawn reminds him. "Remember?" She gives Xander an arched look. "I think I fried his brain."
"Nah," Xander says easily. "He was always this stupid." It's said with affection, but that doesn't mean Spike's going to let it slide by without comment.
"Like you should talk," he says, punching Xander in the shoulder, but there's not enough force behind it and he hopes that'll be blamed on his overall weakness. "Got more sense than the lot of you put together."
"Uh-huh." Xander seems unimpressed.
"He doesn't look dead to me," Joe says, coming over to join Dawn. His thin upper arm's bare where she cut his shirt away from the wound she bandaged.
"It's kind of a long story," Dawn says.
Joe looks worried and twitchy. "I want to go see if my mom's back," he says. It's not asking if someone will go with him, but they all know that's what he's doing.
"Okay, come on," Xander says, getting up. Spike can hear something in his knee grind as he does it. Fuck humans and the way they get old. "Is it on this floor?"
Shaking his head, Joe says, "No, it's up two."
"Take a weapon," Spike says, because there's no point in telling Xander not to go.
"Right," Xander says. "I'll just pull one out the artillery that's handily located in my ass."
Joe's eyes widen, but Dawn just rolls hers and says, "I haven't gone totally mundane, you know. There's some stuff in the cupboard next to the fridge."
Xander and Joe go to check it out the supplies, and Spike shifts himself into a more comfortable position, flexing his hands. There's only a faint prickle left to show anything was wrong. He gets up, cautious, waiting to see if his legs will hold him, but they do.
Dawn's watching him, ignoring Xander and Joe as they rattle a sword and some kind of club from the tangle of vacuum cleaner hoses in the tall cupboard. "I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. Killed the demon, didn't you?" Spike tilts his head to one side and gives her a little smile.
But she bites her lip, frowns. It's quiet, Xander and Joe not saying anything where they are, a few yards away. "Yeah, but that's not what I meant," Dawn says, and Spike sees what she's talking about -- for bringing them here, together, for tricking them, and he smiles again.
"Don't be sorry," he repeats, and lifts his head to meet Xander's gaze, that one gorgeous brown eye, perfect enough that it almost makes up for the fact that the other was lost. Xander looks back at him, steadily, and Spike answers for both of them. "We're not."
TBC
