Part 2: There and Back Again

Walking through Pleasant Hill Cemetery -- which was neither pleasant nor hilly -- on the way to the hospital, Xander started feeling a little ridiculous for making such a big deal about the whole thing. Okay, so he'd seen some weird stuff. Big deal.

Maybe I was just remembering a dream or something. I mean a nightmare. Actually, yeah, that's probably what it was. It sure seemed real, though.

Xander was just beginning to question whether he should tell Spike not to worry about going to the hospital when the sky abruptly opened up and pelted them with a sudden rainstorm.

"Argh!" cried Spike in frustration. "Can't anything go right today?"

Xander looked around the dark cemetery, hugging his arms tightly around himself, shivering. The night that had seemed so balmy only a few minutes ago seemed a lot colder when he was standing around in sopping wet clothes, water still pouring down his face, plastering his hair to his head.

"My crypt isn't far," Spike yelled over the sound of the rain. "We can go there to wait it out." Xander nodded and they jogged toward Spike's crypt, Xander's high-tops squishing in the mud.

When they got inside the crypt, Xander stood dripping on the cement while Spike went downstairs. He reappeared a few moments later and threw a towel at Xander's head. It hit him smack in the face, and he pulled it down and glared at Spike, who was vigorously towelling his hair so that it stuck up in wet curls. Xander started drying his hair carefully, not wanting to press too hard on the bump he'd gotten earlier.

Tossing his towel onto the nearby chair, Spike took off his duster and draped it over a wall sconce. Then he abruptly stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, beginning to towel off his naked upper body. Xander just stared at him. Spike's pale chest looked just the way he remembered it, and his abs were just as ripped as they'd been when Xander had slid down his body to kneel...

This is only freaking me out because of the dream. Normally, I wouldn't notice Spike at all. This is just some post-dream weirdness.

"Enjoying the show?" Spike's voice sounded amused, and Xander's face was suddenly so hot he thought it might just explode. Even the tips of his ears were burning.

"I told you I've got a concussion!" he snapped defensively. "I was just ... uh ... spacing out. I wasn't looking at you."

"Relax, Harris. I know you're not lusting after my luscious bod. Your loss." Spike's easy grin made it clear that he was just joking. He hadn't actually realized what was going through Xander's head. He had no idea about the dream thing.

Actually, now that I think about it, that should have been my first clue that it was a dream or a concussion or something. Because why would Spike be wanting to have sex with me? Okay, so he seemed really pissed off, so maybe he was doing it just to make fun of me or something. Fuck! What am I even thinking about this for? It was a dream! Or a hallucination! Or something like that ... it didn't actually happen.

A hand waved in front of his face, and then Spike was leaning close to look into Xander's eyes. "You went a bit slack there again. Your pupils look all right, though."

Having Spike right in his face like that made Xander's blush flare even warmer and he jerked his head back. Spike got a wrinkle between his eyebrows that Xander knew meant he was about to start asking more questions, so Xander just stepped further away and began drying his face with the towel, patting hesitantly at his dripping hair. "I'm fine."

Spike shrugged and went back to towelling off his chest and stomach. Xander turned to look at the wall, hoping his face would stop burning.

"I'm gonna go get into some dry clothes. Make yourself at home." Spike gestured to the chair and television. Xander nodded vaguely.

When Spike was gone, Xander relaxed a bit. His clothes were sopping, but he doubted Spike would have anything that fit him, since his legs were longer and his shoulders were wider. Not that I've been noticing Spike's legs or shoulders. Man, this dreamhallucinationconcussion thing was really throwing him for a loop! Just because it had been feeling good there at the end...

No. Nothing more to that thought. It just ends there. I am straight. I like having sex with girls. Even if it's been a while since I did so.

Spike came back up the stairs dressed in his usual uniform of black jeans, black T, and red shirt. But, lucky him, they were all dry. Xander shivered again. The crypt really wasn't much warmer than outside in the rain.

"Storm should pass pretty quick," Spike said, walking over to the crypt door and peering out.

Xander nodded mutely, then decided he should be trying to carry on a conversation. "Yeah, rain never lasts long this time of year." Talking about the weather now? What is this, a date? It's just patrol. We should be talking about ... normal stuff. What were we talking about before? Oh, right.

"So ... uh ... Jonathan Richman ... he used to be a punk rocker, huh? Punk turned sensitive poet. What're the chances of that?"

Spike gave him an odd look. What ... had he said something wrong? He thought that had sounded pretty normal. Then Spike smiled this strange little smile, like he knew something Xander didn't, and said, "You'd be surprised."

"What do you mean?" Xander asked, giving up on his futile attempts to pat his clothing dry with a towel. He pulled his t-shirt a bit away from his torso and began wringing it out onto the concrete floor. Spike didn't seem to mind.

Spike threw himself down into the armchair, dangling one leg over the arm and looking down at his fingernails in an oddly shy gesture. "The punk and the poet aren't that different," he said, still looking at his hands.

Xander snorted, feeling better now that they were back on familiar guy-talk ground. "Right. Because the Sex Pistols wrote such sensitive verse."

Spike looked up and smirked, looking much more like his old self. "Hey, don't knock it, Harris. 'God save the Queen, she ain't a human being' is classic." He pulled out his knife and started tossing it again. It was getting sort of irritating, actually, watching him always do that. Like he was showing off.

Xander didn't say anything for a long moment, and it seemed like the silence was a little less comfortable than it had been earlier that night. Now it was filled with all kinds of stuff Xander really didn't want to think about, let alone discuss. Spike tossed his knife, and Xander returned to trying to wring out his t-shirt. It would be easier if he took it off, but there was no way in hell that was going to happen. He glanced over at Spike again.

"So, I was wondering," Xander began hesitantly. Spike looked up and cocked an eyebrow. "You think you could maybe teach me how to throw a knife like that?"

Spike chuckled and replied, "You? You can't even walk without tripping over your own feet." But just as Xander was nodding and looking away again, embarrassed that he'd even asked, Spike continued, "Could give it a try, though. Pass the time." Xander turned back toward him, grinning. This'll be so cool!

They spent the next half-hour or so in companiable knife-tossing, and everything was good again. They were like buddies, just hanging out, doing guy stuff. Spike first made Xander just watch him, so that he could try to catch the rhythm. Then he gave Xander a stake to toss, instead, to see if he could catch it at the same end each time. When they finally heard the rain let up outside, Xander still hadn't worked up to flipping the knife, but he was feeling great that he'd asked and Spike had said yes and he was starting to learn.

As Spike pulled on his still-damp duster, he commented, "Could probably teach you to throw a knife in a fight, too. Something you could do from a distance, not get knocked around."

Xander almost bounced up and down -- okay, maybe he actually did bounce, just a little, but no real man would admit to such a thing -- and quickly said, "That would be great!"

The cemetery was muddy and depressing, but Xander felt like he was walking on air. He was learning to toss a knife! And was going to learn to throw knives in a fight! He pictured himself like the men in the magic shows, throwing knives to outline a nubile woman's body. He could do that! He could be knife-throwing Xander, the dangerously mysterious man!

They were almost to the entrance when Xander heard a low voice from behind them. "I feel the Jewel." And then there were hands on his neck, pulling him backward. Spike turned quickly and saw whatever was grabbing Xander, and he cursed.

"It's the fucking little one that got away earlier," Spike explained quickly. He punched over Xander's right shoulder, and suddenly Xander was released again, falling to sprawl awkwardly on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

"The little one?" he gasped, looking up at Spike's grim face. "That's not so bad, then, right?"

Spike jerked his chin behind Xander and growled, "He brought friends."

Xander's eyes widened and he turned to look. Three very large demons and one relatively small one were standing together a small distance away, and the small one was rubbing his jaw as if it was sore. They were all a green so dark it was almost black, with their backs and shoulders covered in sharp spines. The big ones all had huge, muscular bodies, like obscenely exaggerated weight-lifters. The small one eyed Xander and said firmly, "I can feel the Jewel."

Xander jumped to his feet and yelled, "Nobody's gonna be feeling any jewels, pal. Especially not my jewels!"

He didn't know if it was because of his yelling or if it was only coincidence, but that was when two of the larger demons lumbered forward and attacked Spike. The small demon began to smile, still watching Xander closely, and said, "You have been touched by the Jewel. And you shall lead me to it."

"I didn't touch anything!" Xander insisted, afraid to look away from the two demons in front of him to see how Spike was doing. He heard fighting still going on, and he trusted that Spike could take care of himself, but it was still nerve-wracking. The two demons facing him hadn't moved toward him again yet, but Xander was pretty sure they were just biding their time.

Then all sound of fighting behind him stopped and the little demon smiled wider. Xander couldn't take his eyes off of them. When one of the large demons that had been fighting Spike walked forward to join them, Xander thought, No! That's not the way it happens! Spike always wins the fights! He must be tricking them. And as the Spike-fighting demon turned and joined its two companions, a knife came flying from behind Xander and pierced the demon's eye. He -- or it or whatever -- fell to the ground, suddenly completely still. Xander felt Spike come to stand behind him again, though he still didn't turn to look, because that would mean looking away from the bad guys who apparently wanted to feel his "jewel." And that just wasn't going to happen.

Spike's whisper in his ear was so quiet he almost didn't hear it. "This is real trouble. So run. Get out of the cemetery ... the entrance isn't far."

Xander was just turning his head to insist that he wouldn't leave Spike alone when the remaining large demon moved forward. This time it wasn't one of the bad guys who knocked him to the ground; it was Spike. "Run!" he yelled as he shoved Xander behind him, but Xander had been in the midst of turning his head, and so he lost his balance. God! Don't I always do stuff like this! I'm completely useless!

And then the smaller demon was walking toward him ... and he was carrying a knife. It looked like Spike's knife. Did he pull it out of the other guy's eye? Ew. But then Xander suddenly realized that the guy who kept talking about feeling his jewels was walking toward him with a knife, and didn't that just conjure up the most frightening possible mental images? Xander started scooting away as fast as possible, but he was afraid to get up and start running because that again would require him to turn his back on Creepy Guy.

The small creepy demon licked his lips and grinned happily at Xander. There were still sounds of vigorously fighting coming from Spike's direction, but Xander had no idea whether Spike was going to get over here in time to save him. He had to figure something out to save himself.

"You have been touched by the Jewel," small demon guy said again, and Xander was getting really really tired of hearing him say that. "And when I hold your heart beating in the palm of my hand, you shall lead me to the power I seek."

Okay, that was scary enough to bring Xander scrambling to his feet, but he didn't have time to run, because the small demon was surprisingly fast, darting forward and lifting Xander by the throat so that his high-tops dangled a small distance above the ground. Then the demon turned him quickly, holding him from behind, one arm across his chest, and the grip was so tight that all Xander's struggles amounted to nothing. He saw the knife rising, shining silver in the moonlight, and he looked around frantically for Spike. He saw him not far away, still fighting the last of the spiny Schwarzenegger demons, though the other two lay on the ground unmoving. Spike looked badly beaten -- one of his arms was hanging at an odd angle and his face was a bloody, swollen mess. Xander realized that Spike must have already been pretty badly hurt earlier, when he'd told him to run.

And then everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The knife was shining as it came closer and closer to Xander's face, just like it had shone earlier when Spike was tossing it. Spike was still getting pummelled by the huge demon, blood running dark and red on his face from some unseen wound as his head flew back from a punch. The knife came closer and then gently touched Xander's throat, like a kiss. It sliced across in a smooth motion, and then there was wetness, just like the rain earlier, soaking his neck and his t-shirt. It didn't hurt. But he saw Spike's eyes widen, heard him scream, "Xander!" ... saw Spike frozen in horror, saw the huge demon grab him from behind and twist, twist in a remarkably graceful motion, like he was removing Spike's head like a bottle cap. And then there was dust where Spike had been and Xander couldn't feel anything except the wetness and a sort of buzzing in his head, kind of like the noise of static on the tv late at night, and his eyes drifted closed.

Xander opened his eyes and immediately noticed that the bump on the back of his head was hurting, that his hand was pressed to it. And he was standing in his bedroom. Naked. And Spike was standing really close to him, and he was naked, too.

Spike looked incredibly pissed off, like he wanted to rip Xander's head off and use it for a bowling ball. But at least Spike's head was right where it should be.

What the fuck? What happened? Did I die? I saw Spike get dusted, but he's right here, and he looks fine! In fact ... this looks like what I saw in my weird concussion nightmare. Maybe this is a series of different nightmares? But, man, that seemed so real! I've never felt like that before. And seeing Spike get dusted! I mean, we've been sort of hanging out this summer, but ... that was like seeing Willow or Dawn get killed. It was horrible. I don't ever want to see that again. Man, if this is all concussion stuff then I'm gonna start wearing a crash helmet everywhere I go, because I can't take much more of this.

Spike was standing over near the bed now. He'd apparently walked away while Xander was lost in thought.

"Got any lube?" Spike asked abruptly, his face tense and angry.

And Xander heard himself answer, "In the cabinet by the bed."

Oh god. Here we go again.

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