SERIES: The Price
AUTHOR: Kate (immortal_katharina99@yahoo.com)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, but Joss does. Please don't sue me!
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: Season 7 BTVS
PAIRING: Spike/Xander for now
SUMMARY: Angelus has returned and managed to defeat the Slayer. In the wake of her death, Spike agrees to keep one of the Scoobies as a Pet in order to save their lives.
WARNINGS: Rape, Slavery, M/M.
various kink (anal sex)
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask me. I'll say yes.
FEEDBACK: Constructive criticisms and gooshy stuff makes me happy.

The Price

by
Katharina

Prologue

It’s kind a weird. In the end I suppose that it was inevitable, one girl against the forces of darkness, not the greatest of odds. She had to keep beating them thousands of times; they only had to take her once. Buffy lost just one battle and it was all over, for all of us.

It’s strange the fragmented things that your memory fixates on: the last few drops of blood dribbling down her neck and soaking into her blonde hair, the sound of Dawnie calling out her sister’s name over and over.

I just remember feeling numb. Oddly though the time between the bastard killing Buff and the ritual, I really don’t remember very well. It’s all kind a fuzzy. Bits and pieces come back to me, here and there, but there are major things that I just don’t recall. I don’t even remember where they had us locked up like animals. I have vague memories, flashes really, of what it was like but nothing concrete. I can remember the floor being cold. I remember that it was dark and that there was a bare light bulb hanging on the wall across from the only door to the room. It would blind me every time one of the blood suckers would come for one of us.

I also remember wondering how much force it would take to smash my skull in against the stone wall. It seemed like a better way to go at the time.

I don’t remember how many days went by or even the names or faces of those that were locked up with me.

Some things are achingly clear though. I remember being dragged before that blood sucking, murderous, back stabbing… backstabber. He was sitting there holding court. It was a good thing a couple of minions had a hold of me or I would have done something really stupid.

I know, not a shocker. It’s not like even then I didn’t know I couldn’t possibly take him. But hey, blind rage does funny things to people. He had this smirk on his face. He was just so damned pleased with himself. I think he kept me alive that long just so he’d have someone to gloat to.

There were vamps everywhere. I don’t know how he managed to get so many minions in such a short time. Of course I suppose lots of lower level demons flocked to him after he killed Buffy Summers. And it’s not like Angelus didn’t have his own rep. Now that he’d gotten rid of that pesky soul of his, lots of evil flunkies were lining up to ride on his coattails.

The evil undead looked me up and down really slowly. It made me uncomfortable in a kind of scared to death, “come sit on Santa’s lap, Jimmy” kind a way. He chuckled and shook his head at me before turning to his left to a crowd of his lackeys.

“Doesn’t really seem worth it. Are you sure you want to do this? There’s still time to change your mind, my boy,” Angelus chuckled.

The next voice I heard turned my blood to ice water. “Let’s bloody well get on with this.”

The sad thing is that a tiny part of me was comforted by the bleached one’s presence, even though it was obvious he was with them. They parted the way for him like he was some sort of chosen one.

His face was totally blank as he came for me. His left hand rapped around the back of my neck. It was like being held in a vice. I’d let myself forget just how strong he really is. The two flunkies that had been holding me let go and stepped back merging into the crowd. Not that it made any difference. I was on the ground before I even knew what was happening.

“I knew we couldn’t trust you. I knew you’d turn on us,” I spat, fully expecting those to be my last words. I wasn’t really surprised when he ripped off what was left of my shirt, but I froze when his free hand went after the buttons of my jeans. The shock only lasted a second, and then I started to struggle. I tried to fight him as hard as I could, but it was like trying to loosen a statues’ grip.

Just like that I was naked in front of tall dark and evil’s fan club. I could hear them cheering in the background clapping and urging Spike on.

I just started shaking my head from side to side and whispering no over and over again, as if somehow that would stop him. I think I started adding please when I heard the zipper from his jeans being pulled down. Or maybe I imagined it, with all the noise the crowd was making I don’t see how I could have picked up that sound. It doesn’t really matter, I guess, whether I heard it or not. It doesn’t change what happened next.

It hurt so much, I can’t really think of words to describe it. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. I wished I would have. I can still remember Angelus laughing in the background. I’m not sure when exactly I started crying, but I know that I did. I seemed to go on forever and ever. After a while I just stopped fighting him. I just sort of lay there and prayed it would be over soon.

He didn’t say a word to me the entire time. He barely even looked at me. I was actually surprised that he didn’t smack me when I started fighting him. In a way it was worse that he didn’t. It made me feel even more insignificant and weak, like I wasn’t the slightest bit of a threat to him. He just kept me pinned down without any effort at all.

When he switched to his real face I wasn’t scared, I was grateful. He spoke to me for the first time then. He looked me right in the eyes.

I couldn’t understand what was being said. I’m not an expert, but it sounded like something out of one of Giles’ dusty old books. I did pick up my name though somewhere in the middle of Blondies’ speech. He switched his grip on me and all of a sudden my upper body was being lifted towards him. He was still inside me, mercilessly pumping in and out, ripping me up inside. I could feel something warm and wet running down my backside and between my thighs. I knew it was my own blood.

I didn’t resist when he brought my neck the rest of the way up to his lips. I shuddered when I felt his tongue lapping at my throat, but I barely felt his fangs pierce my skin. I wish I could say that it was rapture and that I suddenly understood why Riley Finn had done what he did. I think I was in too much pain at the time though. Not so much though that I didn’t feel the warm wave of magic washing over us, binding me to William the Bloody for the rest of my life.

Part One

He looked unnaturally small and fragile laying beneath me. The smell of his blood and my semen mixing together just flooded my senses, which was probably a good thing since the boy hadn’t bathed in days. Not that the whelp had been given the option mind you.

I hadn’t quite expected him to bleed as much as he did though. Putting us both through this wouldn’t have done much good if he died right after the bloody claiming. The boy was sobbing. He’d completely given up on trying to push me away. I shook my head, I could sit and brood like some great magnificent tosser later or better yet I could just act like a bloke and deal with it. Point being I had other priorities.

I scented the boy, trying to concentrate despite the racket the Poof’s followers were making. Good, he was bleeding, but it didn’t smell like he was in serious danger. He wasn’t resisting me at all though which was unlike him enough to worry me. Well there was nothing I could do about it in the middle of Angelus’ Great Hall. And he wonders why I call him a ponce.

I straightened myself up, and then picked the boy up leaving his clothing behind. They were rags at this point anyway. Harris weighed surprisingly little. Don’t suppose the wanker had been feeding the captives all that much. I turned to look at Angelus; if the bastard wasn’t satisfied I didn’t know what I was going to do. I wanted so badly to wipe the damn smirk off his bloody face, but there was no way I could fight my way out of here with all these minions. Well maybe if I had been alone… At any rate for the moment I… we were at his mercy. After what seemed like an eternity he nodded, giving me leave.

If I hadn’t been carrying the whelp, I probably would have gone after the king of hair gel, when I heard the wanker start to applaud. In a way it’s a good thing the boy started trembling, it forced me to focus on the problem at hand.

I shoved my way out of the hall snarling at anyone who came near us. How my grandsire managed to find another of these mausoleums in Sunnyhell I’ll never know. The great psychotic one’s a bloodhound for the sodding things.

I made my way up a couple of floors and down the corridor towards the west wing to the quarters I’d been assigned. There were a couple of minions standing guard outside the door of course. For my protection Angelus had insisted. After all there were still plenty of demons out there angry that I’d been the Slayer’s lapdog. I didn’t bother mentioning that the same could be said of him. As long as they stayed the Hell away from me and the boy, I’d live with it.

I was a little surprised when one of the minions opened the door for us. I could have managed, but it would have been awkward with the boy cradled in my arms. I walked in and kicked the door shut behind us. I made my way to the bathroom and found that my instructions had actually been followed, there was a hot bath waiting for the boy. I hadn’t been all that sure the minions would honor my request or even listen in the first place.

I set the boy down next to the old claw foot tub and dipped my hand in to make sure the water wasn’t scalding. It was a little on the warm side, but still nothing unbearable. At least I wasn’t going to be bathing the boy in a tub full of acid, which frankly I wouldn’t put past that arse Angelus.

I picked the boy back up and lowered him carefully into the steaming water. He still hadn’t said a word this entire time, which would have worried me with any of the Scoobies, but with this one it was particularly out of character.  I took one of the washcloths off the ridiculously ornate towel rack and soaked it, before gently trying to scrub away some of the week’s grime covering the slayerette.

He’d been silent for so long, that when he spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m just trying to clean you up a bit.” I told him. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. Hallmark doesn’t exactly make greetings for this sort of occasion.

“Washing away the evidence you mean,” the youth sneered. I was actually relieved. His voice had a hysterical edge to it, but at least he was talking. At any rate he seemed to be a lot closer to his usual belligerent self.

“You watch too much CSI, pet,” I replied trying to keep my voice light. I was all too aware I’d what I’d just done. I also knew that things were going to get worse before they got better.

“I’m not your fucking pet.” There, right on schedule, the words that could get us all killed.

In retrospect there must have been a better way to handle the next few moments, but damned if I’ve come up with it. The soul for all its supposed glory hasn’t added mush to my existence, but a big heaping pile of guilt.

He shrieked as I reached over and grabbed his throat by one hand. My other arm shot under water and caressed the one place I knew he never wanted me to touch him again. His breath was coming in panicked gasps.

“Actually, Alexander that’s precisely what you now are. Marked by me in every way. You’re mine now.” How I kept by voice from cracking during that little speech I still don’t know. The boy’s heart was beating furiously. I could literally smell his fear. He’d unconsciously started shaking again.

I had his undivided attention now. I just hoped he would listen to me. I loosened my grip on his neck and started lightly caressing the flesh there, careful not to upset the fresh bite mark. I quickly removed my other hand from between his legs. My shirt sleeve was sopping, but I ignored it, I just started cleaning him again.

“I claimed you as mine. You’re marked now. Every Vampire or demon that you come across now will know that you are mine. You’re marked as my property,” I explained in what I hoped was a shooting tone of voice.

“Why?” he whispered. I wasn’t even sure what he was asking. Why I was saying this? Why would I want to make him mine? Why had I raped him?

“It wasn’t my idea, pet. I’m sorry,” It wasn’t adequate and it never would be. The only thing I could do now was look after him the best I could.

“Sorry? You’re fucking sorry?” He spat. He had every right to be angry and I knew it. That however didn’t make his resentful gaze any easier to bare.

“I had to Xander. Certain concessions had to be made to keep you and the Bit alive. You, what just happened to you, was the price we had to pay for your lives,” I told him shedding my wet shirt. I think I pulled it off just so I could avoid looking at him for a moment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He demanded, grabbing my wrist and stopping the compulsive washing I’d resumed.

“Angelus,” I answered uneasily.

“You’re saying that Angelus made you…” the boy faltered turning his gaze away.

“Rape you. Yes in a way,” there I’d managed to say it. I’d raped the boy, violated him in the worst way possible.

“What the Hell does that mean? In a way?” He demanded angrily.

“Angelus agreed to allow Dawn and you to live, if and only if, I claimed you as a pet. Taking you sexually, as well as biting you was part of the claiming ritual.” I explained.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have let you if… if it meant he would let Dawnie go,” He whispered in an unsteady voice. At least he seemed to listening to me. He was still afraid, but was at least cautiously considering that what I was telling him was the truth.

“Tilt your head back,” I ordered, pushing him back so I could wash some of the grime out of his hair. “You couldn’t know beforehand. It was part of the agreement that I made with my Grandsire. I asked to be allowed to speak to you, but he refused, said if I warned you ahead of time the deal was off.” I explained. The next part of the explanation I wasn’t looking forward to. The boy was going to explode. “Xander, I said he’d agreed to let her live. I never said anything about letting her go,” I told him as I rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

“What, where is she?” He demanded, trying to bat me away as I attempted to towel his hair dry.  

I hesitated a moment before answering. “In his bed,” I replied, letting the water out of the tub without meeting his eyes.

“What? You left Dawnie with that maniac!” He shouted, as I did my best to dry him off with a fluffy white towel. The boy so exhausted that he was barely able to stand, let alone fight me off.

“She’s alive. He needed some practical reason to keep her alive. Something that wouldn’t make him lose face in the demon community. Besides he’s always liked them young and innocent. What do you think Darla’s little school girl routine was all about,” I asked scooping him back into my arms.

“How do you know about that? You weren’t even in Sunnydale back then?” He asked, he seemed more curious then anything else.

“The slayer told me about it once,” I answered, laying him carefully in the center of the large four poster bed that dominated the bedroom. He eyed me warily as I reached into the nightstand for the supplies I’d left there. I took out a bottle of antiseptic and quickly cleaned the bite mark on his neck. It had pretty much already stopped bleeding, but I taped a piece of gauze there just for good measure. The boy thankfully didn’t fight me as I did this.

His other injuries I was afraid he wouldn't be so cooperative about. I pulled out the jar of ointment that I’d sent the minions out to the healer to get and set it down on the bed beside him.

“I’m going to turn you onto your stomach now,” I warned him as I reached to do just that. It was obvious he would have fought me if he’d still had the energy.

“Calm down pet,” I tried to soothe; careful not to touch him more than was necessary. ”This ointment is going to help you heal. It’s a bit of a potion really, got it from a demon healer. I need you to spread your legs for me,” I warned, moving his legs apart.

“S…Spike. Please don’t. I can’t,” he begged me, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.

“Pet this is going to help you. It will make you feel better, I promise. All you need to do is lay still and try to relax. It’ll be over soon.” I tired to reassure, carefully rubbing his back.

“Why did you have to be so rough in the first place,” Xander reproached.

“I’m sorry, but you needed to bleed. Our fluids needed to mix for the chant’s magic to work,” I really wasn’t the demon to explain it to him. I really didn’t know that much about the demon traditions. The watcher probably knows more about it to be honest.

“That’s just… gross.” He replied, scrunching up his face.

“Most demon rituals tend to be, whelp. Look I’d prefer to use this on you, but I won’t force the issue. I was told it would help numb the pain a little. You could try to apply it yourself, but it would be easier if it was done for you,” I offered.

“Okay,” he agreed. I shouldn’t be surprised. This one has never been short on bravery.

I nodded to him picking up the jar off the bed. “It’s going to be a little cool,” I warned. He whimpered as soon as my finger came into contact with his red and torn anus.

“Keep talking to me pet,” I suggested, hoping to distract the boy long enough to finish my ministration.

“Why? Why did Angelus make you do this?”

“It amuses him. He knows bloody well that we’ve never gotten on. The idea of us shackled to each other for the rest of your life, well it’s just the kind a joke he’d love.”

“Yeah, I guess he would get some twisted trill out of this. Oh God, please no. I don’t think I can do this,” my brunet companion moaned as I spread some of the medicinal cream inside of him.

“Shush, you’re doing so well, Pet. I’m almost done. Keep asking me questions. Occupy your mind with other things.” I suggested.

“Angelus is kind of psycho. How do you know he won’t just kill us all? He can’t be fond of you right now.” Xan asked, sounding more than a little concerned at the prospect, which surprised me. I was actually quite touched that the boy was still concerned for me despite what I’d just done to him.

“It’s always a risk, but I think he’s enjoying these head games too much,” I answered, hoping that I was right on this count. “Besides I’ve managed to speak to Dawn. She understands what she has to do. She knows that she has to keep him and his new childer happy. Hopefully he’ll grow attached to her, before he tires of playing with her. The fact that I’ve officially put claim to you actually helps her chances. It would give me too much status in our clan to be the only Master with a blood pet,” I explained, quickly covering the walls of his torn passage with a tick coating of the healing cream.

“Jesus Christ Spike, she’s 17. Your answer is to tell her to whore herself out to that creep,” he shouted at me from over his shoulder. He seemed to at the very least forgotten about what I’d been doing. Didn’t even notice when I finally pulled my fingers out of him.

“All done,” I announced needlessly reaching down and pulling the covers over his nude body.

“Spike, she’s just a kid,” he mumbled sleepily into his pillow. The boy was completely worn out.

“Buffy was even younger than that when she took up with Angel. Bugger, I never thought I’d miss the great big poofter. Try and sleep for a bit, I’ll see about getting you something to eat when you wake up,” I suggested, running a hand through his still damp hair. Xander just nodded sleepily. Curling up into an almost fetal position he drifted into a troubled sleep.

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