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Hullo, here we go...
:)
Previous parts here.
The bit of book quoted is, once again, Rudyard Kipling, from 'The Jungle Books', specifically 'Tiger! Tiger!'.
Also, unbeta'd. :)
Noise woke Spike - familiar and unwelcome noise and he found himself rolling off the bed and moving before he was completely awake. Felt the wall at his back, rough brick, and the rug under his feet. *Not right, not - where? Hurting the wolf -*
"What the fuck," he mumbled, blinking, coming awake for real this time and realizing he was in his flat. Between the bed and the wall again, safe here, safe in his lair and in Seattle and he took an unnecessary, needed breath and forced himself to stand upright.
Oz was moaning, twisting on the couch and Spike could see Xander crouching next to him, talking softly. Spike ran a hand through his hair and walked over, leaning on the back.
Xander glanced up at him but his attention was all on the thin form that shuddered in his grasp, caught in a nightmare and not waking up. "Oz, shhhh, I've got you, I've got you, man, its okay, shhhh...." Xander was stroking the sweat-limp hair back, was rubbing Oz's chest and shoulder and trying to get his arms around him but the werewolf thrashed, crying out, and a flailing arm send Xander crashing backwards into the edge of the coffee table, lip split again. Xander shook his head - moved back to the couch. "Oz, Oz, you need to wake up now, come on, Oz, wake up, you're safe, I've got you - Oz - shhhh, wake up now -" Xander's hands were soft and deft and quick, this time, and captured the frantically working arms - pulled the werewolf up against his chest. But even ill, Oz's strength was more than any human could cope with and Xander was knocked back again.
*Stubborn little rabbit* Spike thought, grudgingly admiring, and he moved around the couch and got down on his haunches - got his mouth close to the werewolf's ear.
"Come back, wolf - wake up. It's over, you're safe, come back, mate, you hear me? Need you here, wolf - wake up now, wake up -" Oz shivered all over, panting, and then gradually going still. After a moment his breathing evened out and his eyes were open. Still dazed, they tracked uselessly for a moment, not focusing, and then all at once Oz came back to himself and his gaze sharpened on Spike's face.
"Wolf - you here now? You awake?" Slim eyebrows went up in surprise and then came down again and Oz jerked away, coming half up off the couch and hurling himself backwards.
"No, you're not - what -"
"Oz - it's okay! It's okay - you're safe -" Xander's hand on his knee, on his wrist and Oz's lips pulled back in a half-hearted snarl before he blinked and looked again. He relaxed marginally, staring at Xander, then reached out and touched the boy - touched his swollen lip.
"Fuck, man - sorry. I'm sorry."
"Nah - not your fault. It's his fault." Xander glared at Spike, his hand still rubbing lightly at Oz's knee and Oz shifted focus again and looked at Spike as well - took a deep breath.
"Vampire? Is that... Spike? That you?"
"In the flesh, love." Spike said, and his voice was a little choked.
"There was a - doctor..." The spooked look wasn't entirely gone from Oz's eyes and Spike reached hesitantly and touched his chest, feeling the thunderous pound of the werewolf's heart.
"My doctor. Wrxl. He - fixed me, found a cure. He'll do the same for you."
Oz stared at him, bewildered - looked over at the boy. "Xander?"
"Yeah, Oz. He was here - looked like - some kinda weird catfish or something. He - he knows what he's doing."
*Vote of confidence from the rabbit. He's awfully...trusting...*
Oz looked between the two of them and finally he relaxed, running his hand back through his hair and sitting up a little straighter, looking around and blinking. "So not what I was expecting..." Oz said, and smiled.
Fifteen minutes later he managed to get up and, with Xander's help, get into the bathroom. Xander had filled the big tub up with hot water and soap and Oz slipped in with a sigh, going down in the water until just his nose and eyes and forehead were dry. Xander sat on the tub-edge and watched him, licking over his lip every now and again, his eyes blinking in long, heavy blinks. Asleep for maybe four hours and obviously less then that before. Full moons, Spike thought, watching from the doorway, must be hard.
After a minute Spike went over to the cabinet and got out the bottle - had a shot or two of whiskey and then began haphazardly putting away the stuff Tod had dumped on the kitchen counter - mindless labor to smooth away the rough edges that his waking had made in his mind. Locking things up tight again, with little bits of whispered prose. He turned away from stashing juice in the fridge and was utterly startled to find Xander right there. The demon flashed out, snarling, and Xander froze - turned his gaze and then his head to the side a little, just waiting until Spike collected himself and regained his human features.
*Clever rabbit. But that might not be a good reflex to have around me.* Spike moved up close to Xander - reached out and ran a finger down the taut line of his throat and Xander's head snapped back around and his gold-brown eyes glared at the vampire.
"Did Oz teach you that, rabbit? Or did you learn it yourself - trial and error kind of thing?"
"Hyenas, I told you," Xander said, pushing roughly past him and getting out the juice Spike had just put away. He opened three cabinets before he found the glasses and then almost dropped one, getting it down.
Spike came up behind him, leaning into his heat and his smoky-sweet scent, letting his fingers stroke over the bit of skin that showed in the torn neck of the hoodie. The boy shivered under his fingers, and his hands were tight-clenched fists. He suddenly jabbed an elbow back hard, catching Spike in the ribs and Spike snarled - got his hand in Xander's hair and his head yanked back in about three seconds - let his chin dig into Xander's shoulder and his tongue lick out and taste the pale flesh just there, that throbbed with hidden life. His other arm was tight around Xander's ribs.
"Keep still, rabbit - keep still. I might bite," Spike murmured, grinning fiercely, and the boy did keep still, for all of the space of a breath or two. Then he twisted around, getting in another jab with his elbow, almost stepping on Spike's bare toes.
"I'm takin' care of Oz so back the fuck off, Spike!"
Spike felt his eyebrow go up in surprise and he tipped his head a little, looking at the boy. "What's the wolf got to do with you and me, eh?"
"What's he - Jesus Christ!" Xander looked ready to hit something and that darkness was there - hyena-soul, Spike guessed, hovering in the murk at the bottom of the boy's conscious. "It's got everything to do with you and me. I'm - I'm with Oz." Spike felt his eyes widen at that, and the boy's gaze wavered aside for an instant, and Spike smelled the blood that rose under the surface of his skin. "I take care of him, he trusts me. I know - how to make him feel better when he's sick, or having nightmares. He won't trust that Wrxl, no matter what you say, unless I'm there to check up on it. You get it? We're a package deal! So leave me the fuck alone."
The blood - the flush of anger - was delicious and Spike just couldn't help himself - he leaned into the boy, thigh to thigh and belly to belly, his hands on the counter behind Xander. He was half-hard from the thrill of the fight and he knew Xander could feel it - watched the dark eyes widen and the pupils dilate.
*Maybe that's why...* Spike thought, and sucked up another mouthful of the warm, spicy scent that rolled off the boy with his sweat and his fear.
"If you and the wolf were fucking, I'd know. And you're not. Be very surprised if the wolf could do anything like that, the amount of shite in his system." Spike leaned a little harder, grinding, and the boy's eyes went hooded and narrow, his whole body tense under the vampire.
"Is that why you were so quick to get him here, tell us your...safe word? Is that why you're just...taking it?" Spike dipped his head to nuzzle into Xander's hair - let his lips brush wetly over the stubbled jaw and cheek. "You fancy him - you'd do anything for him..." Spike whispered, and Xander's whole body jerked in an excess of nerves and tension. The friction and pressure on his groin was delicious and Spike pressed closer - nibbled on the pulse he could feel thumping wildly in the boy's throat.
Then Xander made a low, growling sort of noise and his arms came up - pushed Spike hard, palms flat to his chest, his whole body springing off the counter and flinging him away. Spike was thrown back a few steps and he growled for real, calling up the demon and pouncing onto the boy, driving him back hard enough to thud him solidly and painfully into the cabinets, crack of his head into a door and Spike's fangs right there, biting down, just breaking the skin. The growl got louder and Spike shook the boy, just a little - twisted the hand that was in his hair, making Xander utter a tiny whimper. His other hand was in the small of Xander's back, keeping him still. Nothing then, for a long moment and Spike drew back a little - licked the two welling drops of blood on the boy's neck with a little shiver of delight. He could taste the otherness in the boy, and it was intoxicating.
"Xander?" Oz called, his voice a little cracked and wavering, and Xander looked towards the bathroom - looked back at Spike, and whatever had fueled the rage and the fight was gone, like that.
"Let me be, Spike. Don't make it harder on Oz." Their gazes locked for a long moment and then Spike stepped back, letting his hand slide slowly out of the thick hair - off his back.
"Best go see to him, rabbit. Don't want him to drown."
Xander stared at him for one more moment - scrubbed shaking hands back through his hair and went, head down. Spike watched him disappear into the bathroom and leaned on the counter, listening.
"Hey man, what'dya need?"
"Just a drink... You all right?" A moment's silence and a sigh.
"I'm fine. Just getting things...settled...with Spike, you know? Don't put your feet on the coffee table, don't leave your towels on the floor, that kind of stuff." Strained humor in his voice and there was a moment's splashing noise from the tub.
"I can smell the blood. What'd he do?"
"Just... Nothing. Pack stuff, I guess. That's what it feels like."
"He's not the right pack."
"Neither are you, if you wanna get picky."
Soft laughter from Oz, and then a sort of groaning sigh. "This feels so fucking good. You think - this doctor, Wrxl - think he knows what he's doin'?" A faint but perceptible tremble in the wolf's voice on the word 'doctor' and Spike closed his eyes momentarily, remembering.
*No, fuckin' no...damnit...*
"He seemed like he knew his job. He asked a lot of questions... I'm sorry, I just - I told him everything I could. I didn't want to...lay out your private stuff but... I think he really could help you, Oz."
"It's okay..." Oz said something else, his voice low, but Spike couldn't hear him anymore. He put his head down in his hands - leaned his elbows on the counter, trying frantically to switch things off, but the clamoring voices were getting louder and the sick smell of his own perpetually burnt flesh and ill body and the rank, poisoned blood he was forced to eat was thick in his nostrils. Old pain flared along his nerves and he pressed his fists into his temples, eyes screwed shut.
"Brothers, that was a dog's death," said Mowgli, feeling for the knife he always carried in a sheath round his neck now that he lived with men. "But he would never have shown fight. His hide will look well on the Council Rock. We must get to work swiftly."
A boy trained among men would never have dreamed of skinning a ten-foot tiger alone, but Mowgli knew better than any one else how an animal's skin is fitted on and how it can be taken off. But it was hard work, and Mowgli slashed and tore and grunted for an hour, while the wolves lolled out their tongues, or came forward and tugged as he ordered them."
A plain of grass, with the moon high in the still, sultry air. The roar of life from a jungle heavy and wet and green as crushed emeralds. Blood-scent, but good, clean blood. And the scent of rain, and cattle - dung and the hot dustiness of their hides. It was so real he could see it - he could smell it and it stilled the voices, stilled the ghost-pain. Washed it away.
"Spike?" Soft voice - not the wolf but some other voice. Gentle voice, not too close. "Spike? Wake up now."
Spike took in a long breath, scenting. That first, always, because that sense had never left him even when the others had failed, or tricked him. He smelled cigarettes and candle wax and soap heavy with cloves. He smelled the wolf, but there was no fear, only illness. He smelled burnt sugar and sweat and blood rich with want and he finally opened his eyes. Stared down at the green granite counter top for a long moment and then raised his head. The boy just there, a few feet away. Looking at him, anxious and a little afraid.
*But no pity. Wolf'll have teased that out of him, thank Christ.* And the wolf, leaning in the doorway to the bathroom, thick towel around his waist, another around his shoulders, the silver poisoning making him look like a ghost, like the walking dead and Spike shivered and stood up.
"What is that?" Xander asked, low, and Oz walked slowly across the floor - touched the boy's shoulder and then leaned there.
"It's headspace. His is Kipling and Keats and Chaucer, mine is -"
"Whatever your stoner brain can remember," Spike said softly, quoting the wolf back to himself, and Oz smiled.
"Yeah. Hey, you think I could borrow some clothes, Spike? I'm kinda cold." Spike noticed, finally, that the werewolf was shivering and Xander looked sharply over at him - touched his forehead.
"Fever's back, damnit," Xander muttered, and Spike turned to the bags still on the counter - dug out a bright blue and white box.
"Here - Tod got aspirin." He tossed the box to the boy and went to find clothes for Oz. He had some soft flannel pants and loose sweaters, things he likes to wear when he was alone and curled into the heat of his lair - when he fired up the antique wood-burner in the corner and basks in the heat. The wolf'll swim in them, but they'll be warm. He heard Xander tearing open the aspirin box and snapping the safety seal - cursing a little when the cap fought him. Spike found the clothes and went back, watching Oz swallow four of the pills and drain the glass of dark-red juice and then stand there, head to one side and hand lightly on his stomach.
"Gonna keep it down?" Xander asked, and Oz nodded marginally.
"So long as I don't - jostle around," Oz pulled the towel away from his neck and accepted the sweater Spike held out to him - pulled it on and grinned down at his hands, which were lost in the floppy sleeve-ends. Xander rolled them up for him and then took the pants himself - held them while Oz carefully climbed in. He was shivering now and he shuffled over to the couch and curled himself into the corner of it, pulling the blanket over himself and shutting his eyes.
"I'm - gonna be out of it," he said softly, and Xander picked up his damp towels.
"It's okay, Oz. Just sleep, if you can."
"Yeah," Oz breathed, and then he was slipping down further on the couch, his breathing ragged with the shivers but deepening, and Spike stood watching him, barely aware of Xander tidying the towels away, pulling the plug on the tub.
"Spike?"
Spike blinked - became aware that Xander had probably said his name more than once. "What, rabbit?" Xander frowned, but his knitted cap was in his hands, and he pulled it on.
"I'm going to go back to our - to our old place. Get our stuff. I need a change of clothes and Oz has some things... I don't want his stuff getting stolen." Spike just stared at him and Xander's eyes narrowed. Anger, in his scent. "You know I'll come back."
"Yeah, I know." Spike considered for a moment, and then he put his thumb to his mouth - bit, and let the blood well up. He reached over and smeared a line of it under the raveling edge of the hoodie and Xander just stood there, still scowling.
*But not stopping me. Brave rabbit, to wear my blood.* "There's beasties out there. This'll keep most away."
"It's not even noon," Xander snapped. Spike shrugged, and found his keys on the counter - handed them over. Xander's eyes were steady on his, and he saw the tiny flicker there when the boy took the keys slowly from his hand. Then Spike went over to the couch and settled in the corner opposite Oz, eyes on the werewolf again.
"You know all the beasties aren't asleep during the day, rabbit. Hurry back, now." Xander stood for a moment longer and then he was gone, sliding the heavy door shut behind him and cursing softly over the elevators sticky gears. Spike just watched, the rise and fall of Oz's chest - slow and hypnotic, lulling. He was asleep five minutes later.
:)
Previous parts here.
The bit of book quoted is, once again, Rudyard Kipling, from 'The Jungle Books', specifically 'Tiger! Tiger!'.
Also, unbeta'd. :)
Noise woke Spike - familiar and unwelcome noise and he found himself rolling off the bed and moving before he was completely awake. Felt the wall at his back, rough brick, and the rug under his feet. *Not right, not - where? Hurting the wolf -*
"What the fuck," he mumbled, blinking, coming awake for real this time and realizing he was in his flat. Between the bed and the wall again, safe here, safe in his lair and in Seattle and he took an unnecessary, needed breath and forced himself to stand upright.
Oz was moaning, twisting on the couch and Spike could see Xander crouching next to him, talking softly. Spike ran a hand through his hair and walked over, leaning on the back.
Xander glanced up at him but his attention was all on the thin form that shuddered in his grasp, caught in a nightmare and not waking up. "Oz, shhhh, I've got you, I've got you, man, its okay, shhhh...." Xander was stroking the sweat-limp hair back, was rubbing Oz's chest and shoulder and trying to get his arms around him but the werewolf thrashed, crying out, and a flailing arm send Xander crashing backwards into the edge of the coffee table, lip split again. Xander shook his head - moved back to the couch. "Oz, Oz, you need to wake up now, come on, Oz, wake up, you're safe, I've got you - Oz - shhhh, wake up now -" Xander's hands were soft and deft and quick, this time, and captured the frantically working arms - pulled the werewolf up against his chest. But even ill, Oz's strength was more than any human could cope with and Xander was knocked back again.
*Stubborn little rabbit* Spike thought, grudgingly admiring, and he moved around the couch and got down on his haunches - got his mouth close to the werewolf's ear.
"Come back, wolf - wake up. It's over, you're safe, come back, mate, you hear me? Need you here, wolf - wake up now, wake up -" Oz shivered all over, panting, and then gradually going still. After a moment his breathing evened out and his eyes were open. Still dazed, they tracked uselessly for a moment, not focusing, and then all at once Oz came back to himself and his gaze sharpened on Spike's face.
"Wolf - you here now? You awake?" Slim eyebrows went up in surprise and then came down again and Oz jerked away, coming half up off the couch and hurling himself backwards.
"No, you're not - what -"
"Oz - it's okay! It's okay - you're safe -" Xander's hand on his knee, on his wrist and Oz's lips pulled back in a half-hearted snarl before he blinked and looked again. He relaxed marginally, staring at Xander, then reached out and touched the boy - touched his swollen lip.
"Fuck, man - sorry. I'm sorry."
"Nah - not your fault. It's his fault." Xander glared at Spike, his hand still rubbing lightly at Oz's knee and Oz shifted focus again and looked at Spike as well - took a deep breath.
"Vampire? Is that... Spike? That you?"
"In the flesh, love." Spike said, and his voice was a little choked.
"There was a - doctor..." The spooked look wasn't entirely gone from Oz's eyes and Spike reached hesitantly and touched his chest, feeling the thunderous pound of the werewolf's heart.
"My doctor. Wrxl. He - fixed me, found a cure. He'll do the same for you."
Oz stared at him, bewildered - looked over at the boy. "Xander?"
"Yeah, Oz. He was here - looked like - some kinda weird catfish or something. He - he knows what he's doing."
*Vote of confidence from the rabbit. He's awfully...trusting...*
Oz looked between the two of them and finally he relaxed, running his hand back through his hair and sitting up a little straighter, looking around and blinking. "So not what I was expecting..." Oz said, and smiled.
Fifteen minutes later he managed to get up and, with Xander's help, get into the bathroom. Xander had filled the big tub up with hot water and soap and Oz slipped in with a sigh, going down in the water until just his nose and eyes and forehead were dry. Xander sat on the tub-edge and watched him, licking over his lip every now and again, his eyes blinking in long, heavy blinks. Asleep for maybe four hours and obviously less then that before. Full moons, Spike thought, watching from the doorway, must be hard.
After a minute Spike went over to the cabinet and got out the bottle - had a shot or two of whiskey and then began haphazardly putting away the stuff Tod had dumped on the kitchen counter - mindless labor to smooth away the rough edges that his waking had made in his mind. Locking things up tight again, with little bits of whispered prose. He turned away from stashing juice in the fridge and was utterly startled to find Xander right there. The demon flashed out, snarling, and Xander froze - turned his gaze and then his head to the side a little, just waiting until Spike collected himself and regained his human features.
*Clever rabbit. But that might not be a good reflex to have around me.* Spike moved up close to Xander - reached out and ran a finger down the taut line of his throat and Xander's head snapped back around and his gold-brown eyes glared at the vampire.
"Did Oz teach you that, rabbit? Or did you learn it yourself - trial and error kind of thing?"
"Hyenas, I told you," Xander said, pushing roughly past him and getting out the juice Spike had just put away. He opened three cabinets before he found the glasses and then almost dropped one, getting it down.
Spike came up behind him, leaning into his heat and his smoky-sweet scent, letting his fingers stroke over the bit of skin that showed in the torn neck of the hoodie. The boy shivered under his fingers, and his hands were tight-clenched fists. He suddenly jabbed an elbow back hard, catching Spike in the ribs and Spike snarled - got his hand in Xander's hair and his head yanked back in about three seconds - let his chin dig into Xander's shoulder and his tongue lick out and taste the pale flesh just there, that throbbed with hidden life. His other arm was tight around Xander's ribs.
"Keep still, rabbit - keep still. I might bite," Spike murmured, grinning fiercely, and the boy did keep still, for all of the space of a breath or two. Then he twisted around, getting in another jab with his elbow, almost stepping on Spike's bare toes.
"I'm takin' care of Oz so back the fuck off, Spike!"
Spike felt his eyebrow go up in surprise and he tipped his head a little, looking at the boy. "What's the wolf got to do with you and me, eh?"
"What's he - Jesus Christ!" Xander looked ready to hit something and that darkness was there - hyena-soul, Spike guessed, hovering in the murk at the bottom of the boy's conscious. "It's got everything to do with you and me. I'm - I'm with Oz." Spike felt his eyes widen at that, and the boy's gaze wavered aside for an instant, and Spike smelled the blood that rose under the surface of his skin. "I take care of him, he trusts me. I know - how to make him feel better when he's sick, or having nightmares. He won't trust that Wrxl, no matter what you say, unless I'm there to check up on it. You get it? We're a package deal! So leave me the fuck alone."
The blood - the flush of anger - was delicious and Spike just couldn't help himself - he leaned into the boy, thigh to thigh and belly to belly, his hands on the counter behind Xander. He was half-hard from the thrill of the fight and he knew Xander could feel it - watched the dark eyes widen and the pupils dilate.
*Maybe that's why...* Spike thought, and sucked up another mouthful of the warm, spicy scent that rolled off the boy with his sweat and his fear.
"If you and the wolf were fucking, I'd know. And you're not. Be very surprised if the wolf could do anything like that, the amount of shite in his system." Spike leaned a little harder, grinding, and the boy's eyes went hooded and narrow, his whole body tense under the vampire.
"Is that why you were so quick to get him here, tell us your...safe word? Is that why you're just...taking it?" Spike dipped his head to nuzzle into Xander's hair - let his lips brush wetly over the stubbled jaw and cheek. "You fancy him - you'd do anything for him..." Spike whispered, and Xander's whole body jerked in an excess of nerves and tension. The friction and pressure on his groin was delicious and Spike pressed closer - nibbled on the pulse he could feel thumping wildly in the boy's throat.
Then Xander made a low, growling sort of noise and his arms came up - pushed Spike hard, palms flat to his chest, his whole body springing off the counter and flinging him away. Spike was thrown back a few steps and he growled for real, calling up the demon and pouncing onto the boy, driving him back hard enough to thud him solidly and painfully into the cabinets, crack of his head into a door and Spike's fangs right there, biting down, just breaking the skin. The growl got louder and Spike shook the boy, just a little - twisted the hand that was in his hair, making Xander utter a tiny whimper. His other hand was in the small of Xander's back, keeping him still. Nothing then, for a long moment and Spike drew back a little - licked the two welling drops of blood on the boy's neck with a little shiver of delight. He could taste the otherness in the boy, and it was intoxicating.
"Xander?" Oz called, his voice a little cracked and wavering, and Xander looked towards the bathroom - looked back at Spike, and whatever had fueled the rage and the fight was gone, like that.
"Let me be, Spike. Don't make it harder on Oz." Their gazes locked for a long moment and then Spike stepped back, letting his hand slide slowly out of the thick hair - off his back.
"Best go see to him, rabbit. Don't want him to drown."
Xander stared at him for one more moment - scrubbed shaking hands back through his hair and went, head down. Spike watched him disappear into the bathroom and leaned on the counter, listening.
"Hey man, what'dya need?"
"Just a drink... You all right?" A moment's silence and a sigh.
"I'm fine. Just getting things...settled...with Spike, you know? Don't put your feet on the coffee table, don't leave your towels on the floor, that kind of stuff." Strained humor in his voice and there was a moment's splashing noise from the tub.
"I can smell the blood. What'd he do?"
"Just... Nothing. Pack stuff, I guess. That's what it feels like."
"He's not the right pack."
"Neither are you, if you wanna get picky."
Soft laughter from Oz, and then a sort of groaning sigh. "This feels so fucking good. You think - this doctor, Wrxl - think he knows what he's doin'?" A faint but perceptible tremble in the wolf's voice on the word 'doctor' and Spike closed his eyes momentarily, remembering.
*No, fuckin' no...damnit...*
"He seemed like he knew his job. He asked a lot of questions... I'm sorry, I just - I told him everything I could. I didn't want to...lay out your private stuff but... I think he really could help you, Oz."
"It's okay..." Oz said something else, his voice low, but Spike couldn't hear him anymore. He put his head down in his hands - leaned his elbows on the counter, trying frantically to switch things off, but the clamoring voices were getting louder and the sick smell of his own perpetually burnt flesh and ill body and the rank, poisoned blood he was forced to eat was thick in his nostrils. Old pain flared along his nerves and he pressed his fists into his temples, eyes screwed shut.
"Brothers, that was a dog's death," said Mowgli, feeling for the knife he always carried in a sheath round his neck now that he lived with men. "But he would never have shown fight. His hide will look well on the Council Rock. We must get to work swiftly."
A boy trained among men would never have dreamed of skinning a ten-foot tiger alone, but Mowgli knew better than any one else how an animal's skin is fitted on and how it can be taken off. But it was hard work, and Mowgli slashed and tore and grunted for an hour, while the wolves lolled out their tongues, or came forward and tugged as he ordered them."
A plain of grass, with the moon high in the still, sultry air. The roar of life from a jungle heavy and wet and green as crushed emeralds. Blood-scent, but good, clean blood. And the scent of rain, and cattle - dung and the hot dustiness of their hides. It was so real he could see it - he could smell it and it stilled the voices, stilled the ghost-pain. Washed it away.
"Spike?" Soft voice - not the wolf but some other voice. Gentle voice, not too close. "Spike? Wake up now."
Spike took in a long breath, scenting. That first, always, because that sense had never left him even when the others had failed, or tricked him. He smelled cigarettes and candle wax and soap heavy with cloves. He smelled the wolf, but there was no fear, only illness. He smelled burnt sugar and sweat and blood rich with want and he finally opened his eyes. Stared down at the green granite counter top for a long moment and then raised his head. The boy just there, a few feet away. Looking at him, anxious and a little afraid.
*But no pity. Wolf'll have teased that out of him, thank Christ.* And the wolf, leaning in the doorway to the bathroom, thick towel around his waist, another around his shoulders, the silver poisoning making him look like a ghost, like the walking dead and Spike shivered and stood up.
"What is that?" Xander asked, low, and Oz walked slowly across the floor - touched the boy's shoulder and then leaned there.
"It's headspace. His is Kipling and Keats and Chaucer, mine is -"
"Whatever your stoner brain can remember," Spike said softly, quoting the wolf back to himself, and Oz smiled.
"Yeah. Hey, you think I could borrow some clothes, Spike? I'm kinda cold." Spike noticed, finally, that the werewolf was shivering and Xander looked sharply over at him - touched his forehead.
"Fever's back, damnit," Xander muttered, and Spike turned to the bags still on the counter - dug out a bright blue and white box.
"Here - Tod got aspirin." He tossed the box to the boy and went to find clothes for Oz. He had some soft flannel pants and loose sweaters, things he likes to wear when he was alone and curled into the heat of his lair - when he fired up the antique wood-burner in the corner and basks in the heat. The wolf'll swim in them, but they'll be warm. He heard Xander tearing open the aspirin box and snapping the safety seal - cursing a little when the cap fought him. Spike found the clothes and went back, watching Oz swallow four of the pills and drain the glass of dark-red juice and then stand there, head to one side and hand lightly on his stomach.
"Gonna keep it down?" Xander asked, and Oz nodded marginally.
"So long as I don't - jostle around," Oz pulled the towel away from his neck and accepted the sweater Spike held out to him - pulled it on and grinned down at his hands, which were lost in the floppy sleeve-ends. Xander rolled them up for him and then took the pants himself - held them while Oz carefully climbed in. He was shivering now and he shuffled over to the couch and curled himself into the corner of it, pulling the blanket over himself and shutting his eyes.
"I'm - gonna be out of it," he said softly, and Xander picked up his damp towels.
"It's okay, Oz. Just sleep, if you can."
"Yeah," Oz breathed, and then he was slipping down further on the couch, his breathing ragged with the shivers but deepening, and Spike stood watching him, barely aware of Xander tidying the towels away, pulling the plug on the tub.
"Spike?"
Spike blinked - became aware that Xander had probably said his name more than once. "What, rabbit?" Xander frowned, but his knitted cap was in his hands, and he pulled it on.
"I'm going to go back to our - to our old place. Get our stuff. I need a change of clothes and Oz has some things... I don't want his stuff getting stolen." Spike just stared at him and Xander's eyes narrowed. Anger, in his scent. "You know I'll come back."
"Yeah, I know." Spike considered for a moment, and then he put his thumb to his mouth - bit, and let the blood well up. He reached over and smeared a line of it under the raveling edge of the hoodie and Xander just stood there, still scowling.
*But not stopping me. Brave rabbit, to wear my blood.* "There's beasties out there. This'll keep most away."
"It's not even noon," Xander snapped. Spike shrugged, and found his keys on the counter - handed them over. Xander's eyes were steady on his, and he saw the tiny flicker there when the boy took the keys slowly from his hand. Then Spike went over to the couch and settled in the corner opposite Oz, eyes on the werewolf again.
"You know all the beasties aren't asleep during the day, rabbit. Hurry back, now." Xander stood for a moment longer and then he was gone, sliding the heavy door shut behind him and cursing softly over the elevators sticky gears. Spike just watched, the rise and fall of Oz's chest - slow and hypnotic, lulling. He was asleep five minutes later.
Thank you!
Re: Thank you!
And yeah, the big bad is HOT.
:)
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Hard to read 'cause i need to seperate the paragraphs, you mean?
Glad you like it, despite.
:)
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Hard to read because the storyline hurts so bad, and the descriptions of their pain, and thier damaged souls... It is all so incredible that I feel like I am there in the room with them. Your writing affects me in such an incredible way that I feel like you wrote it onto my brain instead of posting it on the net.
No bad stuff, no!
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*blushes AND does chair dance*
That's really an amazing thing to read. :)
And thank gods, 'cause i had one person say they would really like it if i would put spaces between everything and i HATE how that looks, so...
:)
Wow. So glad you like it and that it's...that good for you.
Heh.
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1) You're the writer, so you should do what you want.
2) From the comments I've read, no one else is bothered by this, so it's not necessary to change it.
3) I like your work enough that I'm going to read it regardless of formatting!
In case you were wondering, my request is mostly due to the fact that my eyesight sucks. The muscles that hold my left eye in place are weak (even after surgery to correct the problem); I see double when I'm tired. If there isn't space between paragraphs, sometimes my eyes don't track the lines right and I end up jumping back or forward a few lines, which jars me out of the story.
But, thanks to the adjustability of browsers, I can cope by increasing the size of the font and making my browser window narrow like a newspaper column, so my eyes don't have to travel as far from left to right. This is working pretty well.
So, don't sweat the formatting, 'k?
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Not self-conscious, just...
If you've ever stopped off at my website, and read stuff there, there are double spaces between each bit of quoted dialogue - maybe more!
And big spaces between paragraphs. And i don't know WHY it does that, and it drives me nutso.
I'm so used to reading books that are full of tiny, dense print that i have my browser and Word formatted to look like that, and dislike other stuff.
And it's such a HABIT now, i'm not sure i can stop, although i did put spaces in the
And see, with your eyes, it sucks bit time and now i'm all 'oooh!!!'
:)
But yeah, yay for adjustable browsers!!
And really, it's just a little quirk of mine to be annoyed at spaces - no big deal!
:)
Glad you're reading anyway.
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On LJ, the paragraphs are not indented, which can lead to some confusion for the reader. Here's an example: say you have a paragraph ending with a line of dialogue that just happens to end at the right margin (as displayed in that reader's browser window), and then the next paragraph (also dialogue, but with a different character speaking) begins at the left margin. Onscreen, it looks like one big paragraph, and the reader might get confused about which character is saying what. So, the reader pauses to analyze it, and is jarred out of the storytelling spell that you've worked hard to weave.
I do, however, agree that too much space is just as bad as not enough. The answer to that is to learn to whip your HTML code into submission. I could make a few suggestions for you about that (I learned HTML the hard way, by hand-coding; now I use Dreamweaver), but if you want to talk about that, we should probably continue this in e-mail.
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Yes.
Okay, yes, continue in email.
I'm not gonna be around for a couple of days, but if you'll just drop me an email then we'll do this thing when i get back. :)
Yay!
Thank you!
I want to make stuff easy on my readers!
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He smelled burnt sugar and sweat and blood rich with want and he finally opened his eyes.
And I wonder what it is that our rabbit wants...?
I know you asked for constructive criticism (and presumably not just of your
And also? Teh hot! ;o)
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Horizontal Tango. Why does that make me smirky?
Hee! He wants, he wants...he's so needy!
And yeah, criticize away!!
:)
I'm glad to read that what i'm doing is...i dunno, accessible to people. That i'm not writing so much in my own personal headspace that it's offputting or weird or just plain insensible.
And i'm happiest when people like where i'm going with a character, 'cause there are so many writers out there who know this 'verse backwards and forwards and i'm all ways worried i'm screwing the characters up totally.
Thanks!
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Definitely not. I can totally get with your needy Xander and stoner Oz (and now Devon) and your possessive angry/sweet protective Spike. They're all very believable. :o)
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I dunno 'bout the 'Dale. I'm not one for really descriptive torture scenes or anything, so... who knows wehre i'll go with that.
But i'm glad you're liking it!
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I like your spacing, don't change it. If it doesn't screw with my ancient eyes, I can't imagine what bothers anyone else about it.
Also, I'm gonna stop telling you how fabulous you are because it must get tiresome...
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The spacing thing is a major 'thing' of mine, and something i shouldn't worry about so much but...there it is!
oh, yeah, tiresome.
*rolls eyes*
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OMG OMG another chapter...
::takes deep calming breath::
Wow wonderful yet again. Powerful, emotions rolling off the page, intriguing.
Simply marvelous!
I think I'm in love *g*
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ahem
Thank you thank you
Demon!Spike is so damn fun to write...
*hugs him, very carefully*
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First off, I love Spike's headspace moments. I haven't read The Jungle Books since I was little (something I need to do), but they are beautiful moments. The thing that drew me to Spike on the show was his depth and range of emotion. It was those tender moments with Dru that counteracted the strut and swagger with everyone else. The headspace moments do that for me in this story, as well as the way he is with Oz. The way Xander softly brought him out of it the last time, I think he's seeing it too. But he's smart enough not to think that makes Spike soft in any way.
I love how Spike comes out of it with his sense of smell first. There's something about that that feels...I don't know, real. Like he's testing the water or something, making sure he's safe without leaving his headspace completely.
"Just... Nothing. Pack stuff, I guess. That's what it feels like."
"He's not the right pack."
"Neither are you, if you wanna get picky."
Love that! Weather he's aware of it or not, Spikie's already part of Xander's pack. *grin*
that darkness was there - hyena-soul, Spike guessed, hovering in the murk at the bottom of the boy's conscious.
First, I love the way you describe the hyena here. The imagery is perfect, and goes so well with the Jungle Books theme in Spike's thinking. I picture a smoky, dream-like jungle with the hyena's eyes glowing in the bushes. The only thing that hung me up was the Spike guessed. I'm too lazy to go back and find it, but it feels like you said the same thing in earlier parts. It feels stunted and breaks the imagery. Maybe if it were worded differently, but I don't think it's needed at all. I don't know.
The only other thing that bothered me was Spike's use of the word "shite," but that's just a personal thing. I've seen a lot of authors use it and it never sat well with me when coming from Spike. *shrugs*
But yeah, lovely chapter, as always.
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I love it.
At this point, Xander wants Oz fixed so bad he'll go along with just about anything. But yeah, he's not STUPID and he's not suicidal.
The Jungle Books have been sucking me in since i was eight or something. And Kipling's version is SO much darker, bloodier, nastier and more interesting than the fluffy Disney crap. I've had NO problems finding passages that Spike would like.
Yeah - gotta test the waters. I doubt i'll do any blow by blow 'Dr. A did this with this item' kind of description of the Initiative, but i think i'll be going into that a little more at some point.
The 'guessed' thing... Xander has told Spike in, like, one short sentance that he was possessed by hyenas once and that was that. So when Spike sees something 'else' in him, he's thinking that's what it is, but he doesn't really KNOW. Not at this point. And yeah, i probably did say that before, but it's something he's been speculating on 'cause Xander is so different than the other humans he's usually around.
Which is like me trying to justify what i wrote, but hey! We all defend our little worlds. :)
Is it the...action behind the words or the words themselves you found so jarring?
And 'shit' and 'shite' are both nasty words, but appropriate in their context. I don't much care for them myself and try to use them sparringly, if at all. But sometimes, it just IS 'shite'.
:)
*bounce*
Thanks for taking the time! I really appreciate it.
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It's much more the words than the action. It's just the way it breaks up the imagery. Maybe if it was something like "that darkness was there - hyena-soul, maybe, hovering in the murk at the bottom of the boy's conscious." Or if the questioning came after that line. I don't know. There's just something about those words that jerks me out of the imagery, breaks the flow of it.
But sometimes, it just IS 'shite'.
Yeah, like I said, just a personal thing.
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Yup. Personal. And i try not to use it too much. :)
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:)
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Rabbity elbows.
Thanks!
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In short? It's all good!
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:)
I get what you're saying, and that's cool. I like staying within canon and within the 'boundaries' Whedon and crew set, but when the story goes far, far astray of canon, and certain things don't happen, or don't happen to a character, you get to change them a bit, which is fun!
Thanks!
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You are an incredible writer and your stories have this depth that keeps me coming back for more.
I can hardly wait to see where you take us next!
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Thanks, i really appreciate you taking the time to fb me!
Re: Chapter 8
Marie
Re: Chapter 8
I'm glad you're liking it.
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*big goofy grin*
Getting the 'voice' right is always a big part of writing, for me, and i love it when someone says i got it right!
Hehe. I know what you mean. And hey! No self-deprecating remarks!
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*Clever rabbit. But that might not be a good reflex to have around me.* Spike moved up close to Xander - reached out and ran a finger down the taut line of his throat and Xander's head snapped back around and his gold-brown eyes glared at the vampire.
"Did Oz teach you that, rabbit? Or did you learn it yourself - trial and error kind of thing?"
"Hyenas, I told you," Xander said, pushing roughly past him and getting out the juice Spike had just put away. He opened three cabinets before he found the glasses and then almost dropped one, getting it down. Spike came up behind him, leaning into his heat and his smoky-sweet scent, letting his fingers stroke over the bit of skin that showed in the torn neck of the hoodie. The boy shivered under his fingers, and his hands were tight-clenched fists. He suddenly jabbed an elbow back hard, catching Spike in the ribs and Spike snarled - got his hand in Xander's hair and his head yanked back in about three seconds - let his chin dig into Xander's shoulder and his tongue lick out and taste the pale flesh just there, that throbbed with hidden life. His other arm was tight around Xander's ribs.
"Keep still, rabbit - keep still. I might bite," Spike murmured, grinning fiercely, and the boy did keep still, for all of the space of a breath or two. Then he twisted around, getting in another jab with his elbow, almost stepping on Spike's bare toes.
"I'm takin' care of Oz so back the fuck off, Spike!" Spike felt his eyebrow go up in surprise and he tipped his head a little, looking at the boy.
"What's the wolf got to do with you and me, eh?"
"What's he - Jesus Christ!" Xander looked ready to hit something and that darkness was there - hyena-soul, Spike guessed, hovering in the murk at the bottom of the boy's conscious. "It's got everything to do with you and me. I'm - I'm with Oz." Spike felt his eyes widen at that, and the boy's gaze wavered aside for an instant, and Spike smelled the blood that rose under the surface of his skin. "I take care of him, he trusts me. I know - how to make him feel better when he's sick, or having nightmares. He won't trust that Wrxl, no matter what you say, unless I'm there to check up on it. You get it? We're a package deal! So leave me the fuck alone." The blood - the flush of anger - was delicious and Spike just couldn't help himself - he leaned into the boy, thigh to thigh and belly to belly, his hands on the counter behind Xander. He was half-hard from the thrill of the fight and he knew Xander could feel it - watched the dark eyes widen and the pupils dilate.
*Maybe that's why...* Spike thought, and sucked up another mouthful of the warm, spicy scent that rolled off the boy with his sweat and his fear.
"If you and the wolf were fucking, I'd know. And you're not. Be very surprised if the wolf could do anything like that, the amount of shite in his system." Spike leaned a little harder, grinding, and the boy's eyes went hooded and narrow, his whole body tense under the vampire.
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Then Xander made a low, growling sort of noise and his arms came up - pushed Spike hard, palms flat to his chest, his whole body springing off the counter and flinging him away. Spike was thrown back a few steps and he growled for real, calling up the demon and pouncing onto the boy, driving him back hard enough to thud him solidly and painfully into the cabinets, crack of his head into a door and Spike's fangs right there, biting down, just breaking the skin. The growl got louder and Spike shook the boy, just a little - twisted the hand that was in his hair, making Xander utter a tiny whimper. His other hand was in the small of Xander's back, keeping him still. Nothing then, for a long moment and Spike drew back a little - licked the two welling drops of blood on the boy's neck with a little shiver of delight. He could taste the otherness in the boy, and it was intoxicating.
Damn.
"Just a drink... You all right?" A moment's silence and a sigh.
"I'm fine. Just getting things...settled...with Spike, you know? Don't put your feet on the coffee table, don't leave your towels on the floor, that kind of stuff." Strained humor in his voice and there was a moment's splashing noise from the tub.
So, I was doing that thing where I copy/paste my favorite bits and got a teensy bit carried away. Stop writing so good.
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Ummmmm....No?
*snerk*