Fic: There and Back Again (Rated R)
Originally posted to summer_of_spike on 07-22-2004.


Title: There and Back Again
Author: Sandy
Characters: Spike, Xander
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: BtVS Chosen
Disclaimer: Not mine, only borrowing, yada, yada, yada.

Author's note: I originally wrote this in the summer following Chosen as the beginning of a longer adventure story. Then I remembered, Doh! I don't write adventure stories and promptly abandoned it. So its been sitting on my hard drive collecting virtual dust for over a year until I was trying to come up with something to post for Summer of Spike. There were parts of this I really liked and decided that perhaps I could clean it up and use it as a much smaller fic. Pulling it up, I dusted off the electronic cobwebs, examined it, and performed major surgery by excising a seeping tumor of horrendously boring exposition. A few nips here, a tuck there, and voila, something I hope you enjoy.




Chapter 1


Stepping out of the bar, he dug in his pants pocket searching for his keys. He was in a pretty good mood, all things considered. The game on the TV had been exciting, his dinner of greasy fried food had been filling, and the beer had been cold. He'd had maybe one or two beers too many, but he wasn't drunk. He could drive okay.

Finally sorting out his keys, he started walking across the parking lot to his truck. It was a brand new Ford F-150, and he was quite proud of it. Bright red, it contained all the extras he could afford. He hit the button on his key fob, and his truck honked and flashed its lights at him in greeting. He loved that. He had just put his hand on the door handle when he was suddenly hit from behind and knocked to the ground.

Looking up, he felt a shock of fear thrill through him. A vampire in full game face stood over him. He couldn't believe it. Seven years fighting vampires and demons, even facing off against the First Evil, and he was going to die in a sports bar parking lot because he'd stupidly let his guard down. He'd forgotten the first rule of nighttime activities; always keep a stake handy.

The vampire growled and leaped on him. He tried to fight, but the vampire was too strong and he was no match for it. Still, he did the best he could, pushing against its shoulders and trying to keep his neck away from its fangs.

Just as he felt the sharp fangs begin to pierce his neck, a rain of dust bombarded him. Inhaling a shocked breath, he started hacking and coughing as vampire dust filled his mouth and lungs. Rolling over he spat out the foul dust, blinking to clear his eye. When he had recovered sufficiently, he turned to get a look at his savior and got the second shock of the night.

A man stood in front of him clad in a long black leather duster. Of medium height, he had white blond hair slicked down flat and a pale face that sported a scarred eyebrow and sharp cheekbones.

He knew those cheekbones.

"Spike?"

A hand reached down offering to help him up. He crab-walked backwards away from the apparition. "No! No, there's no way. We defeated you. You're back in Hell where you belong."

The hand dropped back down to his side and a bitter smile crossed the too-beautiful-for-a-man face. "Yeah, well Hell didn't want me either. Leastways, not yet anyway."

He kept staring wide-eyed, heart pounding. It wasn't possible. The hellmouth was closed. Spike had sacrificed himself to close it. Now this thing was using Spike's image to... to what? Save his life?

Wait a minute, he thought. Save his life? Looking down at his chest, he saw the evidence of the now dusted vampire. Lifting a shaking hand, he brushed the remains from his body and then looked up at the creature that wore Spike's face.

"You killed the vampire."

"Yeah, I did."

"How?"

"You moved away from Sunnydale and forgot how to dust vampires?"

"I know how to dust vampires. I want to know how you dusted that vampire."

Giving him one of the patented Spike head tilts, the one that said quite eloquently, "Xander is being an idiot," he reached into the duster's left-side pocket and pulled out a stake. "Same as always, lackwit," he said sarcastically. "A pointy piece of wood through the heart."

Xander finally got up off the ground and advanced cautiously forward. When he was within arm's length, he reached out fully expecting his hand to pass right through the other's body.

It didn't.

Eyes widening again, he brought up the other hand and grasped a very solid shoulder. "Holy shit," he whispered. "You're real."

"Well, yeah. What did you think? That I was a ghost?"

"No. I though you were the First Evil."

"Oh." A look of understanding crossed the vampire's face. "Oh! That's why you said you thought I was back in Hell where I belonged?"

"Yeah." Xander swallowed, and then realizing that he was still clutching Spike, he dropped his hands and stepped back. "We thought you were dead. Buffy said..."

"Yeah, well I am dead," he smirked, although to be honest the smirk wasn't up to usual Spike standards. "Vampire, remember?"

Xander shuddered and asked, "You have to dig your way out of that hole?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what, exactly?" Xander asked, feeling anger begin to well up in him. "How'd you get out, and why haven't you gotten in contact with Buffy to let her know you're all right? You have any idea how much she's been mourning you?" he spat.

"Look, it's not that simple."

"Yeah, it is that simple, Spike. She's in the book. You know how to use a phone; I know you do. I've seen you do it."

"Xander, look..."

Xander grabbed Spike by the lapels of his coat and drew him up close. "No, you look," he growled into Spike's face. "She thought you were dead! Hasn't she lost enough people without you letting her think you were gone too? And all this time you were what? Living the low life in LA?"

"Xander..."

Spike just stared at him saying nothing more, apparently unable to come up with an excuse. Xander wanted to punch him. A couple men came out of the bar heading towards their vehicles and gave the pair questioning looks. Xander glared at them and then pushing Spike away, stomped over to his truck and found the keys he had dropped when attacked by the vampire. Opening the truck door he snapped, "Get in," climbed into the cab and started the engine. Spike stood there for a minute, then walked over to the driver's side, opened the door and said, "I'm driving."

"The fuck you are."

"You're half pissed, Xander. I'm driving."

"I was half pissed. Getting attacked by a vampire and then seeing you sobered me right up."

Spike just gave him a long stare.

"Fine," Xander sighed, shutting off the engine and climbing out. "But I'm warning you, you wreck my new truck and I'm staking your ass. Then Buffy will have a real reason to mourn."

Spike just snorted and took his seat behind the wheel. "Been driving since motor vehicles were invented, git."

Xander just slammed the truck door and walked around to the passenger side. Getting in, he buckled his seatbelt and then noticed that Spike hadn't buckled his. "Seatbelt," he snapped.

Spike had started the engine again and was getting ready to put the truck in gear. Looking over with a questioning look in his eyes, he said, "Huh?"

Xander sighed again, "Put your seatbelt on, Spike. You may be an immortal vampire, but the law requires you buckle up anyway. I don't think we want to get stopped by the cops, do we?"

Shrugging, Spike reached over and fastened the seatbelt. "Now that we're all nice and legal, where do I point this monster?"

"Hey! This is not a monster. You are a monster. This is my baby."

Rolling his eyes, Spike said, "Fine. It's your baby. Now which way do I point it?"

"Turn right out of the parking lot and then get on I-10 East. I'll tell you where to get off."

"You always do," Spike muttered.


Chapter 2

The drive was fairly short. Xander directed Spike off the freeway and down a pleasantly wide avenue that seemed to contain nothing but apartment complexes. Pointing out one that had a sign naming it "Hacienda del Sol", he directed Spike to his carport space. The two men hadn't spoken much on the drive, both by silent agreement putting off further conversation until they had reached Xander's apartment.

After parking, Spike handed Xander back his keys and followed him around to the back of the building and up the stairs to his front door. Once the door was opened, Xander walked in flicking on lights. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it haphazardly across the back of a chair he passed on his way out of the room. "Make yourself at home, Spike," he called back. "I gotta use the head."

"Is that an invitation?"

Xander stopped and looked at the vampire still standing in the doorway of the apartment. "Shit, Spike, sorry. I forgot. Come in."

Spike entered the apartment and closed the door. The apartment itself was nice in a bland, generic sort of way with white walls, beige carpeting and cheap maple cabinets in the small galley kitchen. The furniture looked as if it had been purchased from thrift stores and yard sales. The living room contained a worn couch and recliner, two battered end tables with mismatched lamps and an old chest that served as a coffee table. A Velvet Elvis hung on the wall behind the couch. An entertainment unit stood against the wall opposite the couch and contained the only things of real value in the room; a TV, DVD player, VCR and CD player. Off the tiny kitchen was a dining area that contained only a standing fan. A sliding glass door led out to a small balcony. Feeling the need for a cigarette, Spike stepped out onto the balcony and lit up.

"Beer?"

Spike looked around to see Xander holding out a bottle of beer. "Yeah. Thanks, mate."

They each took a long pull from the bottles and then Xander said, "So, you gonna tell me how you got out of that hole, where you've been, and why you didn't let anyone know you're still alive?"

Spike took one last drag on his cigarette, crushed it out and said, "Let's go back inside."

Xander followed Spike back into the living room and sat in the recliner. Spike sat on the edge of the couch, eyes down, staring at the beer bottle he rolled between the palms of his hand.

"Come on, Spike, I'm all aflutter. How did you get out of there alive?"

"I didn't."

"Okay, Mr. Technicality. How did you get out of there undead?"

Spike shook his head.

"I didn't, Xander."

"Huh?"

"I died. Turned to dust, kicked the bucket, shuffled off my undead coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible. The light consumed me and I was no more. I was an ex-vampire."

Xander smiled in recognition and then sobered again. "So what are you then? You're awfully solid for a ghost. You a zombie or something?"

"No, I'm me. Vampire. Same as I was before."

"Then how..."

Leaning back, Spike slouched into the cushions of the couch and took another long pull from his beer. Looking over to Xander he asked, "How long has it been?"

Xander looked confused, "How long has what been?"

"How long has it been since...that day?"

"Oh. A little over four months." Sitting up suddenly, he asked surprised, "You don't know how long it's been? Why not?"

"'Cause I just got back."

Xander stared at him. "You just got back?"

Spike nodded. "One minute I was...wherever I was, the next I see a vampire attacking some poor sod in a bar parking lot. I reached into my pocket for a stake, found one, and dusted the vamp. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the poor sod getting attacked was a Scooby. Didn't expect that."

"Wow. Lucky me."

"Yeah, lucky you."

"So, ah, where were you? How did you get back? And why?"

Spike finished off his beer and set the empty bottle down on the chest. Getting up, he walked over to the open sliding glass door again and stood there looking out, not speaking for a moment.

"As to where I was, I was...I don't know...limbo I guess. Not heaven, not hell, not much of anywhere really. I was aware, sort of, but unable to do anything, you know? Just..." A shudder went though Spike's slight frame. "Didn't much like it there. Too much time to think. To remember."

Turning back to look at Xander, he continued, "Then all of a sudden I was elsewhere. Looked like a bleedin' Greek temple or some such place. And there was a couple there, man and woman wearing togas, for God's sake. Looked around to see if John Belushi was hanging about. Anyway, turns out they were Oracles, mouthpieces for The Powers That Be. They gave me a choice."

Running his hand tiredly across the back of his neck, he closed his eyes a minute as if gathering strength. Opening them up again, he stared solemnly at Xander.

"I really fucked things up."

"How? By closing the hellmouth? 'Cause if that's it, I gotta say from where I'm sitting, that was a good thing. Well, except for losing everything I owned, but still..."

Spike smiled briefly, more a slight curl of his lips than a true smile. "No, actually that was the only way to knock the First Evil back to where it belongs.

"No, where I fucked up was getting my soul."

"Getting your soul was a bad thing?"

Spike nodded his head. "Yeah, seems the rules are pretty specific. Don't matter how many human beings sell their souls to evil, 'cause they keep their souls until death. There's no shift in the balance. Don't matter how many demons choose not to actively be evil or even choose to do good, 'cause they still don't have souls, so there's no shift in the balance then either.

"But then I, a demon, chose to get my soul back.

"And that shifted the balance."

"Huh."

Xander looked thoughtful for a minute and then frowned. "But what about Angel? He has a soul. That didn't 'shift the balance'?"

"Angel's soul is a curse. Angelus didn't choose it. In fact he hates it, as I think he's proven every time he's escaped from its control."

"Yeah," Xander said. Spike could guess from the look on Xander's face that he was remembering the horror that Angelus has perpetrated in Sunnydale five years previously.

"So what was the choice you were given anyway?"

"I could leave limbo and get sent to the hell dimension where I belong, which would also mean condemning my soul which was innocent, or..."

"Or?"

"Or, I could come back here and help restore one of the paths that got knocked off kilter when I threw the balance out of whack."

"Doesn't sound like a very hard decision to me."

Spike's smile was one of bitter irony. "Yeah, I know. Problem is I have to help the last person in the world I want to help."

Xander looked at him questioningly for a second and then his eyes grew big, "Angel?" he asked.

"Angel," Spike agreed.

Xander shook his head and took another drink of beer. "Better you than me, pal. I never much liked you, but I really hate that guy." Spike flinched slightly at his words. "So, how and why do you have to help Angel."

"You know Angel's got himself mixed up with that evil law firm, Wolfram and Hart, right?"

"Oh yeah. Both Buffy and Giles were steamed when they learned about it. I think for the first time ever, Buffy's lost her trust in Angel."

Spike raised an eyebrow at this news. "Well, I have to find a way to get him out of his contract with them. Thing is, they wouldn't tell me why he hooked up with them." He stared out into the middle distance for a bit.

"I think I know why he did though."

"And that would be?"

Spike looked back at Xander. "He thinks he can fight them from the inside. I think he'll just get swallowed up whole and shat out the other side completely destroyed."

Xander nodded agreement and the pair were silent for a while until Spike stood up. "Look, I'd better go. It'll be light in a few hours and I need to find a place to sleep. If you don't mind, I'd like to come back tomorrow night. There're still a few things I'd like to talk to you about."

Xander stared at Spike for several long seconds and then making up his mind he said, "You don't need to come back."

Spike looked at him, his face carefully composed and expressionless. Nodding his head once, he turned towards the door. Before he could reach it, Xander spoke again.

"You can stay here."

"What?"

"Stay here. I have an extra bedroom. It only has a crappy futon in it right now, but the curtains are good. You won't have to worry about becoming vampire flambé." Giving him a lopsided grin, he added, "It's small, but at least it's not a walk-in closet."

Spike swallowed and turned away abruptly, looking out through the sliding glass door again.

"Thanks."

"Only one rule," Xander said with mock sternness. "You pick up your wet towels this time. Okay?"

Spike turned back to him and smirked. It was a lovely smirk. A smirk worthy of the Spike brand. "Sure. I'll pick up my wet towels as long as you pick up your dirty undershorts."

"Hey, one time," Xander protested. "One time I forgot to put my shorts in the dirty clothes hamper."

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe it was twice."

"I think you just wanted me to smell your underwear."

"Okay, see, already you're making me sorry I invited you to stay."

Spike stuck out his tongue and wiggled it. Xander rolled his eyes and turned away to lead Spike to his room.

Spike followed with a confident swagger in his step. For the first time since he'd agreed to come back, he felt like his old self.


The End