Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I make money off of them. Suing me will just mean more money going to lawyers for no payout in the end.

Author's Notes: AU. Pre-Season 6. Assumes that Spike was never William, the Bloody Awful Poet.

The Only Truth

The spell wasn't supposed to work that way. It really wasn't. I mean, can you image Red and her blonde bint actually doing this on purpose? I don't bloody think so. But here we are, and I always did think that he would make a great vampire. All that spirit and such. I just figured I would be right there with him. Me and a brunet that wasn't nuts or broody or too much of an asshole or someone that wants to rape me for hours on end. But we'll be damned if those two witches didn't screw my plans up.

All I can think is 'what the bloody hell were they thinkin'? They've upset something, I'm sure. I'm also sure they'll call that bloody sire of mine. The watcher and the witches are searching for a reverse spell. I get to watch out for Xan. When he wakes up, he'll be hungry for sure. Pigs' blood will have to do. Not a great way to start out, but it will do in a pinch, considering the humans don't even want him to feed at all. The humans, huh! I'm one of them now. I finally get to see the whelp as a vampire, and I can't even enjoy it because I'm not with him. I'm not his full sire. I'm not his lover for a hundred years from now.

Bloody bint and her bloody blonde. Just had to see if she could force the demon out of my body. Just had to see if the spell she couldn't translate completely would work how she wanted it to. Pacing is not calming my nerves. Didn't when I was human the first time, didn't when I was a vampire, doesn't now.

I am not powerful at all now. I am weak. I can still take more than those kids ever will able to, but I don't have my senses, my strength. I still want to go out and hurt something, but that's as normal for my human self as it was for my demon self. I don't crave blood, but I would enjoy the taste. I want his blood. I want to sip it form him and savor it on my tongue. I want to know how having a demon forced into his body changed it. He won't allow that, of course. He'll be too busy trying to take my life. I will be only a human body in his mind. He won't remember that I was his bedmate for a month before this night. He won't remember all the things he whispered into my ears for a few days after he wakes up.

Now he is startin' to stir. He's gonna be too hungry to be good for humans. I heat up a mug of blood for him. I guess I shouldn't call him whelp anymore. Sod that, I can still be the Big Bad that way. If I'm gonna face death by the boy, I will do as I damn well please. Bloody hell, there's a knockin' at the door. Xander has several moments before he will be roused properly, and the others are at the books, I might as well open the door.

Oh, God. I didn't think he would actually come. "Spike," he says to me when the door is open completely. He just stands there like an idiot before I realize that I block his path indoors.

I move out of the way, watching him walk in and fill the space I vacated. Suddenly, he's not moving anymore. He sniffs delicately at the air like he is searching for the mysteries of the universe. Broodboy puts his hand out, palm facing me, and gently waves it at my body, close to me, but not quite touching. "Spike, why do you have a human scent... and smell like Xander... and have body heat?!" The look of shock on his face is something I would thoroughly enjoy if things weren't so bad.

The people in the room are beginning to notice him. he pays them no mind, preferring instead, to stare at what was once my pet lying on the floor in manacles. "What the Hell is going on?" he shouts. Xander moans, eyes fluttering. I go back into the kitchen for the blood I left there. Walking back, I tell Angel all he needs to know for the moment, "Pick him up with his back to you. Hold him down, he isn't going to be pleasant."

Stunned, I suppose, my sire listens. I can hear the watcher walk away. He doesn't want to see this, and I can understand that. The redhead begins to cry softly when Xander is conscious enough to fight against Angel's arms. "Blondie, if you don't want me to find a way to snap your neck, you might want to get her out of this room," I tell the Tara chick. I have a pang of remorse, but I don't let it show as I capture Xander's chin in one hand. I murmur at him the way I would at Dru. Lovingly, patiently, and just this side of authoritatively. I need to get him to drink this. He tries to yank his face away from my fingers. "Luv, you have to listen. This'll fix you up right nicely."

Angel's confusion is set on his face. I want to take it in and wonder at it, but I don't have time. The whelp's eyes pop open. He snarls, struggling even more. I don't have enough patience for this. Putting the mug of blood down and letting go of his face, I slap him. His eyes are no longer angry, but startled. "Li?" he whispers, as if he isn't sure. He isn't of course, his starved and disoriented and unsure, but he won't get better if he doesn't feed.

"Yeah, Luv. It's me, it's Willi." I whisper back, "Now, I just need you to drink some of this, it'll make you feel better. It's like your medicine." I pick the mug back up and tilt it at his lips. Lapping at it a little, he tastes its tangy, coppery flavor. When he sees its what he wants, Xander slurps it up. He finishes it off quickly and licks his lips, trying to get every last drop.

"More, more." he says, voice strong and steady. That voice, God, that voice. Low and husky, like the first time we had sex and the next time, when we made love, and the next time and the next and all the times after that. I shudder at the memories.

'Calm down,' I tell myself. "Pet, do you know what happened?" I have to know. Know if he understands, feels it in him.

"I'm hungry" is all I get from him. Angel, still bewildered, gives me the look that says he'll get the food if I can handle the boy. "Go." I tell the man. I take my boy's face between my hands. "Whelp, do you know what happened?"

"What part?" he answers straight forward, no coy games for now.

"Any of it." I wish I could have my preternatural senses back. I feel too helpless like this. I don't try to fool myself into believing that I'm my old self, I can't be that with a soul.

"I remember us in bed, me trying to catch my breath, you nearly crushing my ribs. It felt so good though." And he smiles at me, not one of those insecure, pain-riddled things he gives to his so called friends, but a genuine smile, the kind he only gives to me. The kind that always graced his face after our nights together. At least he remembers the good. He doesn't remember the shocking pain that passed through both of us. He doesn't remember me holding him and crying as I heard his heartbeat slow until I heard mine begin again, until I realized what was happening.

"Luv, guess what? Red was at it again." I try to sound decent, but I fail miserably.

"Wha.. What happened?" He asks it so hesitantly, I think he is starting to get it. "Spike," he starts again before I can, "Spike, what is that drum? and why are you so warm?" Oh, my. I never wanted to see this look on his face again. The look of terror he got last time he was attacked by a demon and lost, nearly being killed.

And I don't know what to say to him. Angel stands in the doorway of the kitchen, holding the mug meant for my pet. And I don't know how to explain the horrible deed that has been done to us. I pull him to me, our torsos touching, me nearly crushing him without my vampiric strength and tell him the only thought I can make, the only truth I know, "Xander, I love you."