Nexus Chapter 4
Angelus pulled the door closed behind him and prowled into the room. Broad chest bare, sleek abdomen consciousness, too exhausted to stay alert, hurting too much to sleep. The searing sting of the welts on his body had abated somewhat, but his legs had given out, and the pain in his arms and shoulders from hanging in chains was a constant, nagging misery. Disoriented by the total blackness of the dungeon, he was also desperately thirsty, and colder than he’d ever been in his life.
Descending the stairs, Angelus morphed into gameface to take advantage of his superior night vision in the pitch black of the underground chamber. Crossing the dungeon easily in the darkness, he hesitated for a moment just to admire the sight before him; his boy was beautiful in chains. As he watched, the boy moaned pitifully in his sleep, and Angelus went to him.
The shivering teen woke from his fitful doze and began whimpering softly when he felt hands on him, releasing him from his bonds, catching him as he fell. He felt a stab of sheer panic as he opened his eyes. He was blind! No, wait, it was dark. He was apparently being rescued, but by who? Or was that whom? Shit, who CARED? A sudden interest in grammar! Boy, delirium was a funny thing.
As his arms were lowered, he felt stabbing pains in his shoulders just about the time he realized that his legs were no good either. His rescuer murmured something as he lifted him, cradling him in strong arms, and carried him out of the torture chamber. Giles? He was freezing, but when he pressed against the man carrying him, he found no body heat to share. Angel? No, that couldn’t be, because….Oh, crap. Memories of the night before came flooding back, recalling to him to his predicament, and he began to struggle weakly.
“Angelus?“ His voice was barely audible, a tortured croak.
“Shhh. It’s alright. I’m here.” The vampire kept his voice low, soothing as he started up the stairs with his burden. “I’ll take care of you.” Xander writhed against the knife edge of menace that lay not quite concealed beneath the solicitous tone, but the vampire just cradled him closer, stilling him.
It was full day now, and as they reached the main floor, Xander winced against the slight amount of diffused daylight in the mansion. Too bright, and too cold; too weak to struggle further, he pressed his face against the vampire’s throat with a sound of distress. Burying a secret smile against the boy’s soft hair, Angelus tightened his arms around his boy and kept up his hypnotic murmuring against the sable waves, all but unaware of the drowsy minions standing guard, though they snapped into wakefulness as their master drew near. Nor did he notice Spike sitting quietly nearby, noting with interest the relatively whole state of the boy’s skin and wondering if Angelus’ de-soulment had been less than complete. Whatever else was going on, Drusilla had definitely been right about one thing: Daddy had a new boy.
Angelus entered the master suite and kicked the door shut behind him. There was a good fire on the hearth, so he carried the boy to it, snagging the heavy satin comforter off the bed on the way. He sat in the big armchair by the fire and settled the boy in his lap, wrapping the comforter around the shivering body.
One arm encircled the boy, holding him close to his chest. The other hand rose to stroke Xander’s hair, twining idly in the dark silky waves. Soon, Angelus felt the boy stir, struggle to sit upright. “Shhh, now. Shhh. Be my good boy.” The boy stilled, but held himself stiffly. There was a crystal decanter and goblet at hand; Angelus reached for it, poured cool water into the glass, held it before the boy. “Are you thirsty, sweet boy?” Xander’s eyes locked on the water, and he trembled and reached avidly for it. Angelus drew it back out of reach. “What must you say?”
Instantly, the boy’s dark eyes shot to his, and Angelus saw longing, rage, frustration, inward battle. The vampire tensed as he watched Xander waver on the brink, then… “Please. Please, can I have it?” Angelus smiled as the boy gave in, gently pushing Xander’s hands away to hold the glass himself while the boy drank. “Easy, now. Not too fast, or you’ll be sick. You can have more later, if you want.”
Angelus replaced the empty glass on the table, then leaned back in the chair, settling the boy against him, pleased when the boy came willingly, resting obediently against his chest, even though the pressure against the fresh whiplashes made him flinch. Unable to resist, Angelus traced the marks with light fingertips, here and there pressing down until Xander whimpered softly, then stroking soothingly.
“Sshhh, shhh. I know it hurts. You know, it shouldn’t have to be this way.”
Xander managed an indignant glare, pulling away to meet the vampire’s eyes.
Angelus laughed softly; cupped a broad palm against the boy’s cheek, pulling him back down to his shoulder. “I do like your spirit, boy. Better that you learn to control it than make me beat it out of you.” He tightened his embrace when the boy would have pulled away again, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “But we’ll have time enough to take that up again later. For now, rest.”
Yes, Xander told himself; he would fight later. For now, he just couldn’t anymore. It felt like a year since he’d left the Bronze, and he was as physically and emotionally exhausted as he’d ever been in his life. Not to mention confused. The man who now cradled his battered body was nothing like the cruelly taunting demon he had encountered the night before in the alley. That one, Xander thought muzzily, was definitely easier to deal with; easy to hate, easier to resist; after all, he’d dealt with ridicule his whole life.
This Angelus, though….Xander squeezed his eyes shut, confusion making his head spin. His body hurt everywhere, and it was so good to be warm, to drink from Angelus’ glass, to sit cradled on Angelus’ lap, to surrender to this Angelus who managed to make him feel comforted and cared for.…
Are you NUTS? Xander shrugged off the nagging voice in his head and snuggled closer to the vampire, feeling arms tighten around him. Of course he knew that the vampire despised him, it wasn’t real affection, but if kind of *felt* like it, if you didn’t think too hard, and Xander had learned to settle for ‘close enough’ a long time ago.
Besides, it was only for now. Just until he was stronger. He’d fight later. Tomorrow, maybe.…Strong fingers carded gently through Xander’s hair, and the boy closed his eyes and let himself drift. Just before sleep claimed him, he heard Angelus whisper softly “I’ve got you now.”
The vampire sat for a long time enjoying his boy’s warm weight against his body, looking his fill, cataloging his new pet’s charms. Xander slept deeply, so the vampire touched as well, learning the varying textures and responses of the young body. Because of Angel’s experiences with the Scoobies, Angelus already knew some things about the boy. Now, in the few hours that Xander had been under his roof, Angelus had begun to further understand his prey.
It had been obvious to Angel that the boy was trapped in an abusive home. He had always wondered why none of the others seemed to notice; if the frequent bruises and sprains weren’t clue enough, the teen’s nervous eagerness to please, and manifest lack of self-esteem, should have made it obvious.
It probably shouldn’t be surprising that the boy bore up well under abuse both verbal and physical, Angelus mused. No doubt the boy had had a great deal of experience at bearing abuse without knuckling under (Angelus found himself growling softly, thinking about Xander’s family,) so to break Xander to his will that way, while pleasurable, would entail more damage than Angelus was willing to inflict on his pretty toy.
Fortunately, the vampire was learning, there were other, more effective strategies. The harsh environment that had accustomed the boy to abuse had made him vulnerable to other things. Experimentally, he tightened the arm that lay about the boy’s shoulders, cuddling him close and nuzzling his temple, just at his hairline. Automatically, Xander burrowed his face into the vampire’s neck, murmuring something that might or might not have been “Angelus.” Angelus grinned. The key was affection and attention. The boy was starved for it. Would probably do anything for it.
With his free hand, he pushed the comforter aside so that he could stroke a large hand down the boy’s chest, pausing to rub gently across a sensitive nipple. It sprang to attention under Angelus’ knowing touch, and the vampire pinched lightly at the pouting flesh; the boy’s breath hitched in his sleep. A little violence was both desirable and necessary, true, but Xander had unwittingly given him more better ammunition. So eager for touch; so needy, so responsive. The vampire lightly petted the boy’s penis and felt it move against his hand. Xander stirred again in his sleep, moaned softly. Angelus rocked him a little, and the boy quieted immediately under the comforting touch. Pleased, the vampire sat for another hour, cuddling his new pet and making plans.
When Xander awoke hours later, he found himself on a mattress on the floor at the foot of the vampire’s bed, warmly covered with a goosedown comforter. Looking cautiously around, he spotted the vampire sitting in the armchair reading something with a French title. He seemed glad to put it down when Xander stirred.
Xander peered at him blankly from under tousled hair for a moment before groaning and burrowing back into the bedding, throwing the covers up over his head. Angelus could barely make out his muffled comment. “Swell. Just swell.”
Angelus said nothing, and after a moment, Xander sighed and drew himself slowly into a sitting position, watching the vampire warily. Everything he knew prompted him to loathe and fear the vampire, a vampire who was among the worst of his kind, who was capable of unimaginable depths of cruelty and violence. Everything he knew, including first hand experience; as he moved, the whip cuts on his skin pulled and burned.
Yet the last 24 hours had confused things, and now all the lines were blurred, and a part of him wanted to be close to Angelus. As Xander watched, the vampire gave him a half-smile and indicated a large cushion at his feet. “Come sit with me, Xander.”
Okay, Xan-man. It’s tomorrow. Back to fighting the good fight, remember? You know, live free or die, and all that? Seeing the boy hesitate, Angelus raised one eyebrow. “Are you hungry?” At his words, Xander saw and smelled the plate of food at the vampire’s elbow, and his stomach gurgled. “Come on, be good. You can get warm by the fire.”
Fight him! Fight this…whatever it is. Hungry, frightened, in pain and too bewildered by the vampire’s weirdly unpredictable behavior to know what he was supposed to do, Xander sat trapped in indecision, just glaring warily at Angelus, unaware of his marked resemblance to a wild animal.
The vampire saw it, though, and knew just how to proceed. Keeping his voice soft, he spoke soothingly and held out a morsel of food to the boy. “Come on now, pretty. Just an eggroll from the Chinese place downtown. I know you like Chinese. Come on and have some.” The boy looked tempted. “You’ll be stronger with some food in your belly, and you can always tell me to go to hell after you’ve eaten.” Finally, slowly, Xander rose and moved closer, lowering himself gingerly to the cushion at Angelus’ feet, still huddled in the comforter. The youth reached for the food, only to have his hands pushed away again. Instead, the vampire tore off a bite-sized chunk of eggroll and held it under Xander’s nose.
“What do you say?” There was no mockery in his expression, just an open, patient look, almost fatherly.
Again Angelus watched Xander’s internal struggle. This time, Xander was stronger. “I say you can go fuck yourself. I’m not eating out of your goddamned hand like a dog.”
The vampire went still while he mastered his temper, unaccustomed to restraint. The appropriate response to such effrontery would, in most cases, be to beat the brat bloody then ram the food down his insolent throat until he choked on it. And that was the option of leniency. But this…courtship… required a new and unfamiliar etiquette. A few breathless kisses might do it. Or drag him across your lap and spank him until he’s ready to curl up in your arms and let you soothe away his pretty tears. No, not yet. He wasn’t willing to spend his time with Xander persuading again and again. Nothing but submission would do.
The vampire lifted a hand and Xander flinched in spite of himself, but Angelus merely stroked back Xander’s hair, looking disappointed. “Well, then, you’re not eating at all.” With that, the Angelus rose and threw what was left of the water in the decanter on the fire, then took the food and walked to the door. “If you need the bathroom, tap on the door and the guard will take you.”
When the door closed behind the vampire, Xander sat and watched the flames flicker out, drowned by the water. The warmth would be missed. So would the water. Xander sighed and looked around the bedroom. It contained furniture and not much else. There was a wardrobe (locked), a writing table and chair, the huge bed with flanking bedside tables, his mattress at the foot of it, and the big wing chair by the fire that Angelus had just vacated. Not much else. No TV, needless to say. The only reading material in the room was the book with the French title that Angelus had left behind. Xander examined it and found that the text was, not surprisingly, in French as well. Merde. And that, unfortunately, exhausted Xander’s knowledge of French. Okay. Nothing to read, nothing to eat. I can sleep. Oh, and hey! I can go to the bathroom. In fact, that sounds like a REALLY good idea. Suddenly aware of a certain urgency, Xander wrapped his comforter more snugly around himself, drew a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
Almost immediately, it opened and Xander found himself face to face with two poker-faced minions. “Uh…Hi, guys? Angelus said that you’d show me a bathroom?” Instantly, the two stood aside, flanking the door, and one made a gesture for him to walk. As soon as he stepped out of the room, the apparent leader of the two caught him loosely around the arm, apparently not willing to take any chances on letting his charge escape.
Xander was led down a broad corridor, passing a staircase midway. Voices filtered up from the lower floor, and he found himself unconsciously straining to identify Angelus’ voice. A little wigged by the realization, he shook his head lightly, then stopped as he found himself in the doorway of a small, rather old-fashioned bathroom. He started in, then stopped to turn on his guards as they made to follow him in.
“Excuse me, guys, but I do a solo, okay?” The vampires looked unsure, and Xander sighed. “First, there’s no way out, so I can’t get away. Second, that room is a little small for all three of us, and third, I’m pretty sure that I can’t do what I need to do in there with an audience.” The two minions looked at each other, and finally the leader shrugged.
“Hate to press my luck, but can I take a bath, too?” After a minute of apparently painful thought, the leader agreed to that, too, speaking for the first time. “Ten minutes.”
“Wow. It speaks. Okay, thanks guys. I’ll hurry.” With that, Xander closed the door behind him, noted the absence of a lock, took care of urgent business, then scoped out the room, finding a toothbrush and toothpaste, a small bar of soap, and a skimpy towel. The tub was cleaner than he expected it to be, though the water was brownish when it came out of the tap. It cleared a little as it ran, though, and Xander drank his fill from the cold tap on the sink while the tub was filling. Then he lowered himself carefully into the blessedly warm water, hissing as it met the whiplashes scattered on his skin. He washed quickly, aware of both the time limit and the cold air in the room, finally lathering his hair, dunking to rinse then standing to step out of the tub just as the door opened a crack. “Hold your horses. I’m coming.” Hastily, Xander redonned his makeshift toga and was escorted back to the chamber. Once inside again, he found a part of himself rather wishing he hadn’t been quite so hasty about that eggroll. On the other hand, at least he still had some tiny, almost microscopic, sliver of self-respect left.
With nothing better to do, Xander settled himself onto his thin mattress, wrapped himself tightly in his comforter, and tried to sleep. Only later would he wonder about the fact that it never occurred to him to climb into Angelus’ bed.
Xander wasn’t sure how long he was alone in the room, which boasted neither windows nor clocks. Trips to the bathroom were the highpoints of his new life. Otherwise, Xander laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, did pushups, paced back and forth across the chamber and just generally went out of his mind with boredom. And hunger. And, to his complete disgust, a niggling hurt at being ignored. He wondered where Angelus was sleeping; he knew enough about vampire social practice to be aware that the Master of the house would be welcome in every bed in the mansion. Probably taking turns.
The thought bothered him. The thought that the thought bothered him REALLY bothered him. Starvation and boredom bothered him. He estimated that he was on the third day in the room when he finally cracked. His stomach hurt now, and he was starting to feel dizzy. Defeated, he tapped softly on the door. It swung open and the two minions posted outside started automatically down the hall, expecting him to follow.
“No, I don’t need to go—Chip, Wait!” Xander had taken to calling the two minions Chip and Dale; he had to call them something, and neither was willing to communicate their names, or anything else for that matter. Chip seemed to be the guy in charge, so Xander addressed comments and questions to him, for all the good it did. Now Chip was closing the door, and Xander stuck a shoulder through it to halt him.
“Look, Chip, I’m sorta starving to death here. Do you think you could get me something to eat? Anything’ll do. Pizza, chocolate, whatever you can get.”
The minion didn’t respond (big surprise,) just pushed Xander carefully back inside the room and closed the door. Xander felt tears stinging his eyelids as he heard the click of the lock. Was this it? Was Angelus going to just kill him by slow starvation? He’d probably do a song and dance for a single mouthful of Chinese food now, if he’d come back and give him the opportunity, but Xander hadn’t so much as heard the vampire’s step in the hall since the Eggroll Incident.
Hours passed, and Xander had given up on seeing any results from his request, when he heard the lock upon and the door swung open. Xander, who had settled himself on his mattress to try to sleep, jumped up eagerly at the prospect of a visitor, possibly bearing food.
Angelus. The vampire was a sight for sore eyes, standing there shirtless and shoeless, wearing black jeans with the top button undone, and holding what seemed to be a plate piled high with food. Xander found his breath coming fast at the sight of the vampire, and he could feel a slow flush rising up his neck and burning his cheeks. Valiantly trying to fool himself into believing that his excitement was all for the food, and failing completely, Xander sat wordlessly as the vampire stalked into the room and slammed the door behind him.
