Runaways

Authors: angelspike69 and anamcara420

Rating: Adult. This story contains M/M sex. If that isn’t your cup of tea then go away now and don’t read any farther.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Angel and Spike don’t belong to us. If they did, they’d be following up all their fighting and snarking with each other with lots of manly shagging.

Spoilers: No spoilers at all as this is a story that takes place in an alternate universe where our boys are totally human and have never been vampires. We’re not even sure if they believe in them.

Feedback: AngelSpike69 and Anamcara420

Notes: Would like to extend our sincere thanks to makd (aka Mary) for her beta of our story (we remembered the “pickles”). You are the best sweetie and make our stories that much better!!!!!

Summary: Two damaged young men meet by chance in the woods in Vermont. Through conflict and kindness and the special magic of Christmas, they stop running from their pasts and help each other to heal.

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~Part: 1~

Liam de Angelus dragged his sled as he tromped through the lightly falling snowflakes, his boots crunching on the leaves trapped in the snow beneath his feet. His chocolate Labrador bounded near him, tossing up branches and catching them in his mouth. Liam ginned at the dog’s antics. Mac could always make him smile.

Liam shivered despite his heavy clothing. The biting wind from Lake Champlain was picking up strength. It blew fiercely from the beach despite the windbreak the woods provided. The snow seemed wetter and forced the cold deep into his bones. He was annoyed with himself. He should have gone into town earlier in the week for extra supplies. However, he was intent on finishing the rocking chair for old Mrs. Jenkins, and days got away from him. Now he had to journey through the increasingly heavy flakes.

He made his way to the small general store on the on the island’s main street. He hoped the weather would keep most people in doors. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. He stamped his snowy feet on the small porch and pushed inside the brightly-lit building, with Mac following him. John McDermott turned around from stocking the shelves and gave him a nod.

“Mornin’, Liam. Haven’t seen ya in a few days,” he said and reached into a bin for a dog biscuit. “Hey Mac.”

The dog wagged his tale and gave a small bark in greeting. He took the offered biscuit and lay down in front of the wood stove.

“Yeah, working.” Liam responded.

Liam strolled around the store picking up the items he needed and several extra in case the snow got heavier. “Haven’t listened to the radio for a few days. This weather gonna get worse?” He asked.

“Not that I heard, though it seems colder than usual for October. Didn’t hear your truck. Did ya walk in?” John asked.

“Yeah.” Liam finished placing his purchases on the counter and the storekeeper wrapped them up. Liam paid the bill and nodded. “See ya in a few days John.”

“Yep.” The man replied. He watched as the younger man secured his supplies on his sled and thought, not for the first time, about the stranger who had arrived a year ago. His wife thought Liam was quite handsome and almost beautiful when he offered one of his rare smiles. He was tall and broad-shouldered with slightly curly dark hair that fell almost to his shoulders and brown eyes. John thought Liam was in his late twenties. He knew the furniture-maker came from New York City. Old Charley McBride was his great uncle. Apparently Liam had come to visit North Hero Island in the summers when he was a boy. When the old man died, he left his nephew his cabin. It stayed empty for a couple of years and then one day, Liam appeared in his store. He moved into the cabin in the woods, lived alone and made furniture.

Liam had come into the store with a small table and asked if he could put it in the store on consignment. His wife made him buy it as soon as she saw it. John had to admit it was truly beautiful. Several people in town had bought chairs and tables from the man and he had repaired furniture for several others. Liam always gave him a small portion of the sales for allowing him to display the pieces in the store. When Mrs. Martin’s son saw the desk Liam had made for his mother, he commissioned several pieces for his shop in Boston. Liam was polite, but he never stayed to talk to anyone. He didn’t go to church or any of the socials. Although Vermont is famous for its taciturn citizens, Liam was more reticent than the norm. No one in town knew much about him, and Liam never offered up any information about himself. In fact, he pretty much kept to himself and his cabin, unless he had to come into town for supplies or to sell some of the furniture he made.

The flakes were falling more heavily and the temperature was dropping. “Come on, Mac.” Liam shouted for the dog and trudged out of town, nodding to the few people out on the street. He and the dog walked deeper into the woods on their way back to the small cabin. Suddenly the dog stopped and growled low in his throat. Liam stopped. “What is it, boy?” The dog raced off into the woods. “Mac, Mac, come back here!” He called, but the dog did not return. Sighing, Liam continued on his way back to the cabin.

He heard the dog barking and whimpering and he hurried in the direction of the sound. As he came closer, he saw Mac in front of a large tree staring at something.

“Mac. Mac.” He called worriedly. He hoped it was not some rabid animal. Liam drew closer and saw a booted foot. His heart lurched. “Oh God. Please don’t let someone be dead,” he begged.

His mind hurtled back to the death of his lover, David. He thought he had put distance from the tragedy. He had fled the city and worked for two years with furniture craftsmen on North Carolina’s Outer Banks to hone his skills. He worked long hours with the older men and put all of his emotions into the wood and his creations. Then he decided to move into his uncle’s cabin.

Liam shuddered out of his painful memories and drew closer. A slender, pale young man was huddled in the hollow of a tree. Mac was licking his face but he was not responsive. Liam stiffened. “Mac. Mac. Come here.” The dog looked at him and whined but did not leave the unconscious young man. Liam walked closer and relaxed a bit when he saw the man’s chest heave. He was alive!

Liam knelt down and looked at pale young man. He looked to be about eighteen years of age. His bleached blond hair hung in soft curls around his face. He was not dressed for autumn in Vermont. He wore black heavy boots, torn jeans, a t-shirt and a denim jacket. He stared at the young man, noticing the pierced eyebrow. Liam gently shook the boy’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey.” There was no response. They were about two miles out of town and only a short way from his cabin. He’d take the stranger there and call the sheriff. Liam lifted up the young man. He weighed less than Mac! He hefted him over his shoulder and grasped the rope on the sled that was carrying his supplies and walked the short distance to his cabin as the dog pranced and yipped next to him.

He carried the young man inside and laid him in front of the fireplace, covering him with a quilt. He quickly added kindling to the logs in the fireplace, hurried outside, unloaded the sled and brought his packages into the cabin. The young man had not moved and Mac was curled tightly next to him. He seemed to understand that his body would warm the young man. His big grey cat – Bella - was standing over them. She looked up at Liam and gave a long meow. Liam laughed quietly. “On your turf, huh girl?” She meowed again and walked to the edge of the quilt, closest to the fire. She curled herself next to one of the boy’s legs and closed her eyes.

Liam threw more logs in the fireplace and stoked the flames until they blazed. He walked into the tiny kitchen and put water to boil on the stove. He glanced over at his silent guest and went into his bedroom to get wool socks from his dresser. He hesitated and retrieved a pair of old sweatpants and a college sweatshirt from another drawer. He took his uncle’s old flannel bathrobe from a hook in the closet, walked back into the living room, laid the clothing on the back of the sofa and went back to the kitchen. He grabbed the teapot just as it began to whistle, poured the water into a large mug and added the tea that had been steeping on the counter. He added honey and a measure of whiskey that he kept in the closet and returned to the fireplace. He knelt next to the figure under the quilt and spoke to the dog and cat.

“Sorry guys.” Much to Bella’s annoyance, he lowered the quilt and gently prodded his guest - who moaned - but didn’t open his eyes.

“Hey there. Are you hurt?” Liam asked. He moaned again. Liam removed the heavy wet boots and socks and put the wool socks on the younger man’s cold feet. He hesitated, but realized he needed to find out if he had any serious injuries. Liam roamed his hands gently over the quivering body but found no broken bones. His flimsy clothes were sopping wet and unless Liam got him into dry clothing he would not get warm. Pneumonia was a distinct possibility. David. He pushed his memories aside quickly and began to speak softly to him as he removed the sodden pants. Liam froze: he wasn't wearing any underwear!

He averted his eyes and hurriedly pulled on the sweatpants. He lifted him from the floor and took off the jacket and the t-shirt. He gasped. His thin chest was covered with bruises. As he continued looking him over for injuries, he noticed the pierced nipples and the belly ring. What was it with these young kids, intent on sticking pieces of metal into their bodies? He put the sweatshirt over the younger man’s head and then gently pulled his arms through the sleeves. The stranger struggled feebly and moaned pitifully.

“No…no…please…no.”

Unnerved by the young man’s whimpers, Liam held him to his chest and spoke quietly. “It’s alright. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

He quickly wrapped the bathrobe around him and leaned him against the sofa. He sat next to him and spoke softly and he hoped, reassuringly.

“Hey. You’re safe. You’re in my cabin. You’ll be warm soon.” Liam reached for the cup and turned back. He was startled when he saw blue eyes open and staring at him. He began to tremble and Liam spoke again.

“Hey. I’m Liam. My dog found you in the woods. Are you hurt?” He smiled at the thin young man who blinked, but didn't say anything. “Here - drink this, it'll warm you up.” Liam pressed the cup to his mouth and he took a small sip, never taking his eyes from Liam’s face.

“Hot.”

Liam smiled at him. “Yeah. You need to get warm inside.”

“Booze?”

Liam smiled again. “Yeah. Whiskey. That’s what St. Bernard’s carry when they search for stranded skiers.”

The young man swallowed a bit more and closed his eyes.

“Are you hurt?” Liam asked.

He opened his eyes again and Liam marveled at their bright blueness. He didn’t answer, but shook his head slightly and then groaned. “Head hurts.” He whispered.

Liam moved to his knees. “Let me touch your head, see if there’s a bump.” He probed gently in the blonde curls and found a large swelling midway on his skull. Dried blood matted his hair. Liam drew in a breath. His visitor could have a concussion; he had to call the sheriff; get him to the hospital.

Liam spoke. “You have a large bump on the back of your head. Is your vision blurred?”

The young man went to shake his head and then moaned. “No. Just a headache.”

“Look. We need to get you to the doctor’s. Make sure it’s not serious. The hospital is about forty-five minutes away.”

He stiffened and looked increasingly frightened as Liam spoke. “No. No hospital…I’m alright.” He struggled, trying to get up. He made it to his knees and then swayed. Liam caught him and drew him up.

“Okay. Okay. Here. Lie down on the sofa.” Liam helped him to lie back on the pillows and covered him with the quilt. Mac put his paw on the young man’s arm. He stared for a moment at the dog and then smiled tentatively.

“He doesn’t bite?” He asked uncertainly.

Liam chuckled. “Mac? Bite? Humph. Labs are supposed to be hunting dogs. Mac doesn’t hunt. He just licks every animal and every person he sees.”

The young man smiled more confidently and lifted his hand to pet the dog. “Never had a dog. Never had a pet.” He closed his eyes only to open them when Bella jumped onto the back of the sofa. “You a vet?”

Liam laughed lightly. “No. Mac is my dog. I found Bella as a starving kitten in the woods. She rules the house.”

“Not starvin’ now.” He said, a tiny smirk touching his lips as he put his other hand on the cat’s soft fur. Bella began to purr. Startled by the noise, he looked at Liam.

Liam raised his eyebrows. “She’s purring. Never heard a cat purr?”

He shook his head again and moaned at the movement. He whispered. “Why?”

“Why? Oh…why does she purr? All cats do. That means they're contented.” Liam wondered to himself about the stranger’s lack of connection with animals.

“Rest. I’ll be back.” Liam walked into the bathroom and ran some water. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the sheriff. “Tom. Liam. Found a kid in the woods. No, about eighteen. He’s got a lump on his head.” He listened. “No. Not from around here. Has an accent. English. Not dressed for Vermont.” He stopped speaking. “Okay. See you in a bit.”

Liam walked back to the living room and started. The young man wasn’t on the sofa. Liam looked over to the fireplace. He was on the floor, his body curled around Mac, the quilt over both of them. Liam smiled to himself. That dog could charm the devil. Bella was again pressed against his legs on top of the quilt. He made himself tea with honey and added a shot of Jameson’s for himself. He heard tires crunch and walked out to the porch to greet Tom.

“Hey, Liam. Thought you only took in four-footed strays.”

“Hey. He was tucked into the hollow of a tree. He was unconscious. Mac found him and I carried him back here.” Liam paused and swallowed. “Put warm clothes on him. He’s really skittish, Tom.”

The sheriff nodded and the two men walked back inside and over to the fireplace where he lay in the protective custody of Mac and Bella.

“He’s young. What the hell was he doin’ out here by himself?” Tom demanded.

Liam shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe he knows someone around here. We can ask when he’s more awake. He…” Liam stopped speaking at the sound of another car crunching to a stop outside and gave Tom a quizzical glance.

The sheriff looked a bit embarrassed. “I called Doc Clayton, Liam. I was worried about the head injury.”

“He was terrified when I said I wanted to take him to the hospital.” Liam said annoyed at the man but he understood his concern.

He walked over to the door and opened it just as the older man was coming up the steps. “Hey Doc.”

The man smiled and nodded. “Liam. Got a new critter to care for, huh? Runaway?”

“Must be. He’s not local.” The sheriff responded.

“Ah, let me see. Where is he?”

“On the floor in front of the fireplace.” Liam answered. “Doc, he was frightened when I wanted to take him to the hospital so…”

The doctor smiled at the kind stranger who had recently come to their small island community. “I understand. But concussions can be tricky.”

The older man strode across the room. He looked down at the comatose young man surrounded by the dog and the cat and smiled. “Animals are great healers.” He sighed and turned to the other two men. “Could you put him on the couch? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Liam and Tom smiled at the doctor who had to be in his late seventies and Liam walked over. He patted Mac’s head. “Get up, boy.” The dog struggled to his feet, yawning widely. Liam picked up the cat and put her on a nearby chair. Tom helped him pick up the slender young man and place him on the sofa. He groaned and opened his eyes. He stiffened when he saw the two strange men and looked balefully at Liam.

“This is Dr. Clayton and the sheriff, Tom Hanson.” Liam told him. As soon as Liam said the word, "sheriff", his eyes widened with fear and he struggled to get up. Liam hurried toward him, smiling apologetically. “Easy. Easy. I was worried about the lump on your head.”

The stranger did not return the smile. He trembled and Liam saw tears in his eyes.

“Are you lost, son? Were you on your way somewhere?” Tom asked softly.

The doctor approached him. “I’ll not hurt you, boy. Just need to see your head. Bumps on the head can be dangerous.”

He glanced at Liam, an angry pout on his pale face. He looked at the doctor in resignation and closed his eyes again. The men noticed that his body was shaking and his hands gripped the sofa cushion tightly.

When Dr. Clayton felt his head, the young man hissed and gritted his teeth. “Open your eyes, son.” The doctor said quietly. He did and the older man flicked a flashlight on and gazed into the bright blue eyes. “No concussion. Just a bump. How did you hurt yourself?” The man asked gently as he felt over his slim body to make sure there were no other injuries.

He looked up at Liam and then mumbled. “Fell. Rolled down a hill. Hit a rock I think.”

“Where are you from?” Tom asked.

He was silent for a moment and then sighed and spoke into the floor. “California.”

“California!” All three of the adults said in unison.

“Good God! “ The doctor exclaimed.

“How did you get here? How old are you?” The sheriff asked almost at the same time.

“I got rides. I’m twenty-one.” He said a bit defiantly, still refusing to look up at them. When the men remained quiet, he glanced up.

They looked at him skeptically. He noticed that the one who had found him – Liam - was standing there with a raised eyebrow. Retreating from the stare of the brown eyes, he lowered his head and mumbled. “I’m…I’m eighteen.”

Dr. Clayton retrieved his bag from the floor and walked around the back of the sofa. “I need to clean your wound, son. It may sting a bit.”

Liam sat down next to his guest, who tensed. He reached out his hand to touch the young man on the shoulder. “You’re safe, now. Would you tell me your name?”

He was quiet for several moments and then answered in a harsh whisper refusing to look any of the men in the eye. “Spike…my name is Spike. He gave a strangled cry when the doctor began to swab the wound and unconsciously grabbed Liam’s hand.

The doctor finished quickly and spoke to Liam. “Bring him to my office in a few days. I’ll check the dressing and the wound. Do you have Ibuprofen?”

“Yes.”

“Give him one for the headache when it bothers him.”

Liam nodded.

The sheriff spoke up. “Spike? Were you going somewhere? Is someone waiting for you? Can I call someone to come get you?”

He looked at the men who stared back at him. His eyes filled with fear.

“Have you run away, son?”

Spike almost snarled. “Don’t have anyone…no one will miss me.”

Liam stood up. “Thanks Doc. We’ll come to your office.” He nodded at Tom and walked them out onto the porch. The old man got into his ancient Jeep and drove off in the now heavy snowfall.

“He’s eighteen, Liam. An adult. Not much else I can do, unless you want me to check and see if I anyone has filed a missing person report with his description. Try to get his last name and I can find out if there are any outstanding warrants or reports that he’s a runaway.” Tom said.

“Let’s wait a bit. Let me see if I can get anything out of him first. He’s scared and he must be running from something.”

Tom nodded. “Be careful, Liam. He has a lot of anger buried inside of him."

Liam nodded and the sheriff got into his car and drove down the long dirt track to the road. He turned and went back inside. Spike hadn’t moved, but the animals had gotten closer. Mac had laid his head on the young man’s chest and Bella had jumped onto the arm of the sofa behind his head. Spike burst into tears.

Liam was startled. The stranger had revealed anger and fear, but not sadness. He walked over and sat down on the end of the sofa a little distance away. He said nothing. After a few moments he stopped crying, wiping his eyes fiercely with the back of his hand. The set of his shoulders revealed his anger at his weakness. He did not look at Liam. He petted the dog’s head and finally leaned back and then grimaced at the pain when his head touched the sofa.

“Are you hungry, Spike?”

“Yes.” He said quietly.

“Okay. What do you want, breakfast, lunch or dinner?”

Spike looked at Liam in confusion. “What time is it?”

Liam glanced at the grandfather’s clock in the corner. “It’s 4:30. But you can have what you want. Pancakes. Hamburger?”

Spike licked his lips. “Do you have French fries?”

“No. But I can make fried potatoes.”

He looked puzzled but answered. “Hamburger and fried potatoes. Do you have cheese?”

Liam smiled. “This is Vermont. Every house must have Vermont cheddar cheese.”

Spike smiled slightly and wrinkled his nose. “Could I get a shower? I’m really dirty.”

“Of course. Listen. Get a shower to get clean and then soak in the tub for a while. It has jets.”

The young man raised his eyebrows. “Jets?”

Liam grinned. “It’s a spa tub. The water spurts out of jets and circulates. It’s one of the things I added when I moved here. Come on.”

Spike got up carefully and followed Liam into the bathroom at the back of the house. He gasped when Liam opened the door. The room was huge with a large tub and a separate shower stall. A small wood stove stood in the corner. There were small windows close to the roof around three walls and the ceiling had an enormous skylight.

“Yeah. A bit decadent. I work with wood and sometimes my body needs rejuvenation and the whirlpool helps.” Liam grinned and pointed to a large closet. Towels are in there and a terrycloth robe. The washer and dryer are in the back of the closet. We can wash your clothes later.”

Spike stood still marveling at the expansive beauty of the room, his angry toughness vanished. “This is bloody beautiful!” He said in awe.

Liam smiled. “I’ll leave you to it. Give me a shout when you’re almost finished and I’ll put the burgers on the grill.”

“Grill? Outside? It’s snowing.” His guest looked at him amazed.

“Yeah. Part of the deck has a little roof. It’ll be fine as long as it’s not blowing too hard. Take your time. I know I can stay in here for hours.” Liam nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Spike turned on the shower and washed quickly, lathering his body and shampooing his hair vigorously with Liam’s sweet-smelling soap. It felt so good. He had been dirty for a long time. He got out of the shower and filled the huge tub, adding some bubble bath he found on the side. Ponce. He realized he didn’t know how to turn on the jets. He opened the bathroom door. “Liam. How do I turn on the…the spa thing?”

Liam entered the bathroom and stopped, his mouth open in shock. The boy stood naked in the middle of the room. “Um…um…” He turned quickly and walked to the closet, taking out one of his huge towels. He handed it to William without looking at him and pointed out the button on the wall. “Just turn on this switch and the jets will come on.” Liam flicked the button and turned and hurried out of the room.

Spike was surprised at the man’s discomfort. Most men couldn’t tear their eyes from him. He climbed into the warm water and sank down until his entire body was submerged. Leaning his head carefully against the back of the tub, he closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

“Hey. Spike. Wake up. Don’t want you to drown.”

“Oh. Sorry. It was just really warm.”

“No problem. I’ve fallen asleep lots of times. Mac usually licks me awake.” Liam smiled. “I’ll start the burgers.” He exited the room, closing the door behind him.

The water had turned cold and he shivered as he stood up and grabbed the towel that was hanging on the wall. After he removed the excess water from his hair, he stepped from the tub and continued to dry off his body. Once he was dressed in the clean clothes that Liam had placed on the small chair next to the tub, he hung up the towel. He looked at himself in the mirror, and ran his fingers through his damp hair as he tried to get control the natural curl that he hated so much. He winced when his fingers ran over the bump on the back of his head. Not having much luck without the gel he normally used, he shrugged his shoulders. Sticking his tongue out at his reflection, he turned around, and with his shoulders squared he left the small, steam-warmed room.

~Part: 2~

The aromas assaulted his senses first. He was so hungry, he actually salivated. Spike walked across the room bare-footed to where Liam had just laid a plate of burgers on the large wooden table. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before he continued over to the table. Pulling out the chair in what he assumed was his place, he sat down and stared at the food before him. Besides the burgers, there were those potato things that Liam mentioned. There was also a big green salad and all the "sides" that go with burgers – onions, tomatoes, pickles, cheese, mayo, mustard and ketchup.

Spike’s stomach let out a loud grumble. He waited until Liam turned back from the kitchen counter with a big pitcher of milk and a beer. He grimaced at the pitcher of milk and his mouth watered at the bottle in Liam’s other hand. He wrinkled his nose as Liam filled his glass.

Liam noticed the grimace. “You don’t like milk?”

“It’s okay I guess. Rather have the frosty though.”

“I don’t think so, but if you want something else, I have some iced tea in the refrigerator and I may even have some soda.”

Spike shook his head, “No, this is fine. Don’t want to be any trouble.” Maybe he’d be able to sneak one or two when Liam was out or something.

“Okay then, dig in.” Liam sat down and offered the plate of burgers to his younger guest.

Taking his fork, Spike silently stabbed one of the huge patties from the offered plate. He reached for a bun from the basket in front of him, opened it and put the meat inside. Liam watched in amazement as Spike piled cheese, onions and tomatoes on top of the meat. He added lettuce and topped it off with both ketchup and mustard. He took a big bite of the burger as he scooped a huge pile of potatoes onto his plate and added a large squirt of ketchup. Spike felt eyes watching him and he looked up to see Liam’s grinning face.

“I love cooking for someone who likes to eat.” Spike blushed slightly, but kept chewing his food. Liam nodded and picked up his burger. He sure was a skinny thing. He probably hasn’t eaten a good meal in a long time.

“How about some salad?” Liam asked as he slid the glass bowl toward the young boy.

“Nah. Don’t eat stuff like that.”

“Well you seem to like them enough to have them on your hamburger.” Liam responded teasingly.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Don’t know, just is, that’s all.” Spike returned his attention to his food, hoping that he could finish his meal in silence.

Spike finished two burgers and half the fried potatoes. Finally Liam spoke. “Spike, why are you in Vermont? It’s a long way from California.”

The young stranger swallowed his mouthful and stared at Liam. “I’m eighteen. Can go where I want, can’t I?”

Liam sighed at the antagonism he heard in the young man’s voice. “Yes, you can. I just wondered why you chose Vermont, especially at this time of year. You weren’t exactly dressed for the cold.”

Spike shrugged as he chewed the potatoes he had stuffed in his mouth. “Got lost…someone took my backpack when I was asleep. Is this gonna be an interrogation? I thought that was the cop’s thing.” He asked in a harsh voice as he glared at Liam.

Liam startled at Spike’s tone and spoke quietly. “No. I just…how can I help you?”

“I’m not one of your stray animals. Why d’ya want to help me? And who says I need help?”

Liam was quiet for a few moments as he and the younger man watched each other warily.

“Spike, you were unconscious in the woods with wet clothes that were inappropriate for cold weather. You had no identification or bags. Don’t you think you need help?”

Spike stiffened and then his entire body sagged. “Not used to anyone helpin’ me.” He looked up at the older man. Liam’s breath hitched at the sadness he saw there. But those beautiful blue eyes hardened quickly. “Not unless they wanted something.” He snarled as he stood up from the table.

Liam was horrified at the implication of the young man’s words but he hid it as he glanced at the angry, flushed face across from him. Liam made a grab for his wrist as his guest got up. “Spike, sit down, please. I…I don’t want anything from you. People should help each other out, shouldn’t they? I hope someone would help me if I needed it.”

Spike stared down at the hand keeping him from getting away. “Don’t need anyone’s help!” He pulled back, trying to get free of the older man’s grasp. “Let me go!” He continued to pull back forcefully. “I said let me go!” He was shouting now.

When the hand suddenly released him, he went flying backwards and landed in a heap on the floor. As he stood up, the slightly built young man’s voice lost its anger and he stammered, his eyes downcast. “Didn’t…didn’t count on losin’ my stuff and…couldn’t find…Didn’t plan on gettin’ lost either.”

“I’m sorry Spike. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Angel said softly.

Spike sank down in the chair, all his fury evaporating. “Yea, well…you shouldn’t be grabbing at people like that. And I wasn’t scared. Just don’t like being manhandled. Look…I’m really tired. I’ll help you clean up and then…could I…could I sleep on your sofa just for tonight? I’ll leave in the morning.”

Liam stood. “You can stay as long as you like Spike. You can sleep in my bed tonight…get a good night’s sleep. I’ll sleep on the sofa.” He grinned. “It’s just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll set up a cot for you. Come on.”

“But…the dishes?”

“Never mind the dishes.”

Spike looked askance at Liam, as if trying to suss out his motives. “Fine,” Liam sighed slightly frustrated. “I get it. Apparently you can’t believe that I’m offering you something without an ulterior motive.” Liam looked at Spike’s pale face and noticed his lip trembling. The annoyance of the previous moment slipped away from Liam’s voice and he smiled. “Spike, you’re almost asleep standing up. If it’ll make you feel better, you can clean up the breakfast dishes tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Spike said softly.

“Come on.” Liam turned and walked through the cabin into his bedroom. Spike followed him and gasped when he entered the room. It was a large room with a huge skylight in the ceiling.

“You like lookin’ at the sky, huh?” He asked.

Liam smiled. “Yeah. I like to see the moon and the snow. I like to hear the rain and I like to feel the sun on my face in the morning.” He stopped, embarrassed by his lengthy response.

Spike looked at him and smirked. “Sleep on the street. You’ll see all the weather.” He lowered his head. Like Liam, he was embarrassed at what he revealed.

“Here’s some pajamas you can sleep in.”

Spike looked at him, his face incredulous. “Pajamas?! You got to be kidding. Don’t wear no poncey pajamas. Sleep in the buff…when I’m indoors.”

Liam tossed him a sweatshirt. “Here. Don’t sleep in the sweater. You…you can wear it tomorrow. My clothes are too big for you.”

“Yeah, wondered about that. Girlfriend’s?”

“What?” Liam looked surprised. “Uh…no…a…a friend left it here.” He stammered and quickly composed himself. “The sheets are clean and there is an extra blanket in the closet if you get cold. There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom.” He turned to leave. “I’ll go clean up. Goodnight Spike.” Bella jumped up on the bed and looked at the two men. “Meow.”

“Ah…she usually sleeps with me. I’ll take her out.” Liam said.

“Um…no…it’s ok.”

“You’ll have to leave the door ajar. She may need to leave the room during the night. Oh…she’ll lie on your legs and she’s heavy.”

Spike snorted. “I noticed. She’s almost as heavy as the dog.”

“Mac…not quite, but she is hefty.” Liam smiled. “Goodnight Spike.” He turned to leave.

Spike mumbled to Liam as he left the room. “Night Liam…and…thanks.” He listened to Liam’s footsteps as he crossed to the kitchen. Spike climbed into the king-sized bed with its soft flannel sheets, fluffy pillows and warm blankets and turned onto his side. Bella immediately curled herself up in the crook of his legs. The cat’s purring was soothing. Liam confused him. He had never known anyone like him. Doesn’t he ever get really pissed off? Spike was used to pissing people off and suffering the consequences. Being here with Liam was so different from his real life. Suddenly everything overwhelmed him and he sobbed himself to sleep.

Liam shivered a bit as he sat reading on the couch. He had thrown a blanket over his bare shoulders. He only wore pajama bottoms to bed, but out in the living room it was colder despite the fire. Liam looked up from the book when he heard whimpering. At first, he thought it was Mac needing to go out. He set his book down on the nearby table, got up and turned to walk to the front door, only to see that Mac wasn’t there. He glanced around the cabin and spotted the dog sitting in front of the partially opened door of his bedroom. He realized that the whimpering wasn’t coming from Mac, but from the young stranger sleeping in his bed.

Worried, Liam poked his head through the doorway. He caught a glimpse of Spike’s slender form on the bed, slightly illuminated by the pale winter moonlight streaming through the glass in the ceiling. Spike was hugging one of the pillows to his bare chest. Liam thought to sneak in to cover him but didn’t want to frighten him. The older man stood quietly gazing at the bed. Spike’s pale skin and light hair glowed in the ambient light. He was beautiful. Liam thought of David; he had been slender, blonde and beautiful. Suddenly he realized that the sleeping figure had stopped whimpering. He chided himself for staring at the sleeping younger man and allowing himself to fall into memories. He sighed, relieved that his guest was calming. Liam decided the room was warm enough and Bella was nestled against his back, adding her body heat. With a final glance at Spike, he left. He was halfway back to the sofa when he heard a sharp cry and saw Bella streak out of the room.

He turned and hurried back to his bedroom, pushing the door open all the way. He squinted into the moonlit room and stared at the small naked body writhing in the big bed, the covers thrown to the floor with his thrashing about. Whimpers and moans pierced the quiet night. It broke Liam’s heart. What had happened to him that caused nightmares to invade his dreams so cruelly? Liam walked softly toward the bed. He stopped suddenly when the young man cried out.

“No…please…no…I don’t want to…please…don’t make me…”

Liam raced to the bed and put his hand out to rouse Spike from his nightmare. Unfortunately, as soon as Liam’s hand made contact with him, he skittered across the bed. Thinking he was awake, Liam called to him. “Spike…” He got no answer. The troubled young man had tucked himself into a tight ball, his face crushed into the pillow, his body shaking violently. It was almost like he was trying to hide himself.

Worried, Liam gently got onto the bed and inched closer to the small, trembling body still in the throes of frightening dreams. He touched a narrow shoulder and was shocked by the feverish heat.

“Spike.” He whispered. “Spike. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Liam’s quiet words seemed to calm him slightly and his shaking lessened. Liam began to gently rub a hand in circles on the slender back, remembering the nights he had comforted David. “Hush…hush…no one will hurt you.”

Suddenly Spike’s eyes flew open and he recoiled from Liam’s touch. He lurched out of the bed and stood glaring at Liam. “What…why…why are you in my bed?”

Liam was startled by the angry tone. “You…you were having a nightmare and…”

“And you thought you’d comfort me? You’re just like all the rest.” He jeered. “Oh you’re so beautiful. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. I won’t hurt you.” He hurled the words at Liam and his body began to shake again.

Stunned by Spike’s implied accusations, Liam didn’t respond.

“So nice. So kind.” His pale face was twisted in fury. “Bollocks! You want what everyone else wants. Get out! Get out!” Spike screamed. “I’ll leave now. Where are my clothes? Like me naked do you?” Tears streaming down his face, Spike sagged to the floor, his angry shouts were replaced by soft, incoherent mumbling. Mac came toward him hesitantly and sat next to him. He looked at the dog and leaned against him, exhausted by his tirade.

Liam didn’t know what to do. Should he try to comfort him or leave him alone? Finally he got up from the bed and walked slowly out of the room without another word. He sank onto the floor in front of the fire, staring into the flames, his own painful memories blazing in his heart. He sat for long moments lost in the hurt from his past and thoughts about the horror that must have been Spike’s life. He must have been sexually abused. Like all the rest. Several people had to have…used him, hurt him, for him to be so…so damaged. I don’t know what to do for him…if there is anything I could do for him. I…I couldn’t help David either.

Liam sat in front of the fire until dawn when Mac nudged him to be let out. He shuddered, got up and threw a blanket around himself. He opened the door and heard the freezing rain. The dog barked and bounded out into the feeble daylight. Great. Ice on top of the snow. Mac raced out of the woods and back into the house. He lay down in front of the fire shivering from his few minutes outdoors. I can’t let Spike go out in this weather. He grabbed an old towel from a shelf and sat next to Mac, rubbing the cold water from his coat. The dog fell asleep quickly but the man stared into the flames until he heard footsteps.

Liam turned around to look at his guest. Spike was dressed in the sweats that he had put on after his bath. He looked briefly at Liam and lowered his eyes to the floor. He clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. ”Sorry…I…sorry…I’ll leave…I…sorry about…” Spike left the words hanging.

Liam stared at the wounded young man. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to make things worse. He couldn’t let him go out into the brutal cold outside. “Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa?” He asked.

Spike looked at him startled. “Um…um cocoa…if…if it’s not too much trouble.” He said quietly.

“Okay.” He turned toward the stove and spoke over his shoulder. “Spike, could you throw a few more logs into the fire? It’s sleeting outside. Really brutal. Mac went out and ran back quickly and he usually romps in the snow.” Liam continued matter of factly. “Are you hungry?”

Spike picked up a small log. “Just toss this in?”

“Yeah. On top of the others.” Liam answered, surprised at the question until he remembered Spike lived in California where it was much warmer. “What do you want to eat? I have oatmeal, cold cereal, eggs?”

“Eggs. You have bacon?”

“No. Sorry. I try to eat healthy, and bacon isn’t exactly nutritious. I can get some the next time we go into town. When this weather gets a bit better.”

Spike heard the implied invitation. He said bloody awful things to this man. Why wasn’t he throwing him out?

“Spike, can you put the bread in the toaster? Jam’s in the fridge.”

Spike glanced over at the kitchen counter. A gleaming toaster stood near the end, a loaf of bread lying nearby. He walked to the counter. The bread wasn’t wrapped and it wasn’t sliced. “Um…the bread isn’t cut.”

“Yeah. It’s homemade not store-bought. An old woman up the road makes it for me. I do repairs for her. It’s really good. That loaf is honey wheat.”

Spike muttered under his breath. “Bloody healthy I’m sure. Git.” He found a long knife hanging with others on the wall. God. Never saw anyone so…so friggin’ neat. He cut slices of the bread and put them into the four-slot toaster. When the toast popped up, he placed it in the napkin-lined basket waiting on the counter. He shook his head. Everything’s…perfect. He put the basket on the table and opened the refrigerator in search of the jam. There were three jars labeled jam in the door of the fridge. These weren’t store-bought either. “Um…what kind do you want? Raspberry, blueberry or peach?”

“Whatever you want.” Liam answered.

Spike had never had anything but grape jelly – processed not homemade. He chose the peach. Liam walked over with two plates, and placed one in front of Spike. His guest’s eyes widened. The warm plate held three large eggs and a mound of fried potatoes. He looked at Liam’s plate. Two eggs and no potatoes. Liam noticed his glance.

“I have to watch what I eat. I put on pounds easily.” He smiled across the table at Spike. “You obviously don’t have that problem.”

“Nah…can eat whatever I want.” He replied reaching for a large slice of toast.

The two men ate quietly for a few moments until Liam broke the silence. “Spike. I have to go out to my workshop. Have to finish a cradle for Mrs. Jenkins’ great-granddaughter. She’s traveling down to Boston soon to go to the young woman’s baby shower.”

Spike looked at him. “People pay you for the stuff, right?”

“Of course; but not always in money.”

“What d’ya mean not always in money? How else do they pay?” Spike asked, a confused look on his face.

“This is a small island, Spike. Only a little over eight hundred folks live here. The barter system has worked for hundreds of years.”

“What’s a barter system?”

“It means we trade for things. For example, I make the cradle for Mrs. Jenkins. She provides me with bread, jam and vegetables from her garden throughout the year. Her husband was a professor at the University of Vermont. He has a huge library in the house and she lets me borrow books.” Liam smiled, slightly uncomfortable at his chattiness. It wasn’t like him to talk so much. I guess I’m trying to draw him out; make him comfortable.

Spike looked shocked. “How many hours did it take you to make the cradle?”

“Several hundred I think. Never really kept count.” Liam replied.

“Bread, jam, vegetables and books don’t cover that!”

“It’s not always about money, Spike. It’s good will and being part of the community. The people on North Hero respect each other’s privacy, but are right there if anyone needs help. I lived in New York most of my life in the same apartment building I grew up in. I knew maybe three people’s names. Some of us nodded when we saw each other. Other tenants looked through you and kept walking.” Why am I telling him all this?

Spike sniffed. “Community. I lived in a community. Had to hide my stuff or someone would steal it. Bloody sods. If I went away for a few days and didn’t take my stuff, everything would be gone. The only thing people shared in that place was a needle.” Spike stopped speaking and lowered his eyes to his empty plate. Why am I telling the ponce all this?

Liam stood up and smiled at Spike. “Well, you said you’d do the breakfast dishes this morning. I’m gonna shower and get dressed.” He turned and walked toward the bathroom.

Spike sat for a few moments thinking. Maybe he wasn’t trying to…bloke hadn’t made any other moves. He snorted. Fool’s such a sap, lettin’ people take advantage of him, not payin’ him what the stuff’s worth. No wonder he has to live in a cabin in the woods. Although that bathroom is amazing. Wonder if he bartered for that. He finally got up from the table and began cleaning up.

Liam came out of the bathroom, a large towel wrapped around his waist. He looked embarrassed. “Forgot to take my clothes in with me. Used to living alone.” He hurried into the bedroom and closed the door.

Spike was less and less sure that the man was comin’ on to him last night.

Liam trudged out to his workshop in the barn. He was a little uneasy about leaving Spike inside alone, but he wanted him to trust someone. Liam had asked if he wanted to come out to the barn but Spike wanted to stay in the house for a while.

Spike watched Liam walk carefully over the icy snow. As soon as he closed the door to the barn, Spike started to look around. He went into the bedroom and opened all of the drawers in the dresser. In the bottom drawer he found paper rolled up. He brought it out and laid it on the bed unrolling it carefully. They were blueprints. Spike wasn’t certain, but they seemed to show the design of a house. Liam wasn’t an architect. Who drew the plans? Maybe that friend who owned the blue sweater. He rolled them back up and stuffed them back into the drawer.

He showered and put on the blue sweater and the sweatpants. He put heavy socks on his feet and walked out of the bedroom. He was bored and needed to draw. Spike searched the huge cabinet on a wall behind the couch. He found several drawing pads. Most were filled with furniture designs, but one was empty. He took it and a handful of pencils and sat at the kitchen table working on his comic strip. He was so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t hear Liam come in from the barn. Suddenly he felt someone and he looked up. Liam was watching him. Spike quickly closed the drawing pad.

“Um…was bored. Searched in that cabinet and found this stuff. I like to draw.” He said biting his lip, afraid of what Liam would say about him rifling through his stuff.

“Oh…you draw huh?” He answered as he came into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. “What do you draw?”

Spike hesitated and then replied. “Draw a comic strip. Lost all my notebooks. Haven’t drawn in a while.”

“Glad you found the pad and pencils then. There should be colored pencils in one of the small side drawers.” Liam answered as he shivered. “It’s really cold. Not usually like this so early in November. Even with the wood stove in the barn my hands were cold. Had to take a break. Want some tea first and then we’ll have lunch.”

Spike looked over at the grandfather’s clock in surprise. It was one o’clock. He always lost track of time when he was drawing. It had gotten him a beating more than once.

Liam took a container out of the fridge and poured the contents into a large pot. “Mrs. Jenkins’ is known for her soups. This one is Chicken Escarole. My grandmother used to make it. It’s Italian.”

“Yeah, your last name is Italian. Never heard the name Liam before. Is that Italian?

Liam laughed. “No. It’s the Irish form of William. My mother was Irish.” He saw Spike’s face blanch when he said the name William and wondered why.

“You’re American then. Everyone in America came from somewhere else originally. Not me. I’m English. From Liverpool. I…” Spike stopped suddenly. He didn’t want to reveal anything about himself. Stupid. Now he’ll ask questions.

“I had a friend who came from England, from London.” Liam said and then turned back to stir the soup.

“He go back then?” Spike asked surprised that Liam had not asked him questions.

“No…he…he died a few years ago.” He stopped stirring and took large bowls from the cabinet in the kitchen. He poured the soup into the bowls and put them on the table.

Spike had seen the way Liam stiffened when he spoke about the English bloke. Maybe it was Liam’s fault that he died. Although he didn’t want to answer Liam’s questions, Spike was curious about the man sitting across from him. He had never met anyone so kind, so soft-spoken. Why’d he live alone in this god-awful place? Why wasn’t he married? Bad break-up?

“What’d he do?”

Liam looked up and frowned. “Do?”

“Yeah, like you make furniture?” Spike continued, hiding his surprise about the frown on the other man’s face. Hadn’t seen that before.

“He was an architect.” Liam said softly

Now Spike knew who made the blue prints. “How’d he die?”

Liam lowered his eyes and grasped his spoon tightly. “He got sick.”

“Sick? From…”

“Spike, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Liam’s voice was tense, almost harsh. He took a few breaths. “Sorry. It was very sad. He was a good friend.”

Spike nodded and ate his soup. Liam had a past that haunted him. He missed his friend. Spike knew no one would miss him if he died. His dad had thrown him out when he married that young chippie and his mom…

~Part: 3~

Liam finished his soup and stood up. “I’m going back to the workshop Spike. Do you want to come out for a bit?”

Spike hesitated. It was freezing outside, but he knew he had been difficult and Liam had been kind and understanding. “Yeah. For a bit. Don’t know how long I can stand the cold though.”

Liam offered Spike an insulated shirt and pants. “Bloody hell! You wear these? Looks like the long underwear with the ass flap that the old folks wear in those black and white movies.”

Liam laughed. “They’re not that bad and besides, they’ll keep you warm. You like old movies?”

“Yeah. Some. The Grapes of Wrath was a good movie.”

Liam was surprised. Spike had some depth hidden underneath that snarky bravado. He handed Spike a pair of socks. “Here…these are heated. They’ll keep your feet warm.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “Heated?”

“Yeah, skiers, soldiers and anyone who works outside use them to avoid frostbite.”

He shook his head and walked into the bedroom to dress.

Liam cleaned up the kitchen while he waited for Spike. He had a lot of movies – old and new. Maybe the two of them could watch one later.

Spike came out of the room scowling. “I feel like that Michelin Man.”

Liam hid a grin as he put on his coat and handed one to Spike. “It’s gonna be a bit big on you, but it will help to keep you warm.”

Spike scowled again and put on the coat, regretting his decision to join Liam. “Mush on, Liam.” He shook his head. Ponce thinks he’s Nanook of the North.

Liam laughed again. Spike could be really funny when he wasn’t being a tough street kid. Liam opened the back door and Mac bounded out. They stumbled over the icy ground hurriedly and entered the relatively warm barn. The dog raced in and collapsed on the rug in front of the wood stove. Spike stood staring at the wood, the projects in progress and the tools and machines.

“It smells good in here.” Spike said to Liam’s back as he inhaled the fresh scent of the wood stacked neatly in piles. The other man was putting small logs into the wood stove. He stood and turned around.

“Yeah. It’s all the different kinds of wood and the oils that I use to preserve them.”

Spike watched Liam work for the next few hours, peppering him with questions and marveling at the way the wood became something beautiful under his hands. Liam was an artist. Spike had never thought about furniture at all and certainly not about handmade pieces. Liam explained how he used the different tools. Spike was especially fascinated by the scroll saw that cut fancy circles in the wood and the lathe that enabled Liam to make round legs for tables. The woodsmith showed the younger man how to sand the wood preparing it for staining. Spike was hesitant at first, worried that he might damage something.

“Spike, you’re an artist. Your hands will be gentle.” Liam said with a smile.

Spike blushed at the man’s kind words. He was not used to getting compliments. He took the sandpaper and tried his strokes on scrap wood.

“See. You have an artist’s touch.” Liam said.

The young man said nothing but the words warmed him far more than the stove’s heat. Liam gave him a piece of rosewood that would become part of a drawer of a small desk. The man smiled again and went to work on another piece of wood. Spike was again surprised at the other man’s trust in him. His brief time with Liam was totally different than anything he had ever experienced. No harsh words. Patience. Respect.

Despite the stove and the insulated clothing, both men felt cold by five o’clock. Liam turned everything off, stoked the fire down and he and Spike returned to the cabin.

“Could I take a bath in that tub? I can’t feel my toes.” Spike asked.

Liam smiled and Spike noticed how his eyes twinkled when he was happy. “Sure. You go first. I’ll make dinner and then it’s my turn in the spa. Don’t use all the bubble bath.” He winked at Spike and the younger man laughed and turned to go into the bathroom.

Liam stood still. Spike had laughed for the first time. It was an unexpectedly deep laugh considering his rather frail body. Liam removed his outer clothing and hung it in the back hall and then put water on to boil for spaghetti.

After their baths, the two men spent a quiet evening together watching a Star Wars movie. Spike had seen it before but he enjoyed C2PO and R2D2. He once had little plastic figures of the ‘droids. Of course nothing of his ever lasted. Some new kid always found his hiding place and took his treasures. Spike shivered and Liam tossed him a blanket. Liam had brought out a huge air mattress and Spike curled up on it with Mac. He was asleep before the movie ended.

The next morning the sun was shining and it seemed warmer. Although he was reluctant, Liam insisted that Spike go to the doctor’s to get his head checked. Dr. Clayton assured Liam that the younger man was fine and the two went to the general store. Liam introduced Spike to John and his wife Amy.

“Heard about you son. Glad you’re okay.” John said. Spike looked a bit surprised and Liam smiled.

“This is a small place Spike. People know and care about each other.” Liam said.

Spike nodded but couldn’t hide the skeptical look that crept across his face. He couldn’t believe Liam. He trusted everyone. People didn’t just care about each other without wanting something in return.

Liam bought some supplies including several drawing pads and soft pencils for Spike.

“You draw Spike?” Amy asked when he placed the materials on the counter.

“Yeah. A comic strip.”

Liam could tell that the younger man was uncomfortable with such scrutiny. “John, Amy, we’ll see you again. We’re going to have lunch at the North Hero House.”

The storeowners’ eyes widened. In the year that Liam had lived on their small island, he had not gone anywhere except their store, the lumberyard and the vet’s. He always begged off dinner invitations, and he went to houses only when he had to deliver either repaired or new furniture, and then he rarely stayed for coffee.

Liam and Spike said their good-byes and drove a mile to the bed and breakfast that was located on the edge of Lake Champlain. Spike was amazed at the size of the lake. It looked more like a calm ocean. He could not see any land as he looked across the water. The food was excellent, and the men relaxed in the historic ambience of the dining room. They talked quietly about movies, books and their art.

When they returned to the cabin, Liam had to go into the barn to finish work on the cradle. Spike decided to stay in the house. Although his conscience twinged, he began to snoop again as soon as Liam left. He searched the large closet in Liam’s bedroom and in the back discovered a rope hanging from the ceiling. He pulled on it and a set of wooden steps unfolded. He climbed up into the cold and dusty attic. He found a lantern and flicked it on. There were boxes, neatly labeled of course. One caught Spike’s eye. It had one word on the side – David. Spike took the lantern and knelt in front of the box. He opened it and began to remove the contents.

He took out the protective tissue paper and stared at the model of a house resting on a board covered in fake grass. Maybe this is the house in the blueprints. Spike took it out and laid it gently on the floor. He pulled out an empty briefcase and some clothing. In the bottom of the box were several photo albums and some award that had this David’s name on it. David Madison. He began to look at the pictures. Almost all of them were of Liam and a slender, handsome blonde man – at the beach, on the ski slopes, sailing, in a park. Liam was grinning in every picture, and Spike could almost see his eyes twinkling with happiness. Liam’s eyes were mostly sad now.

Thoughts tumbled in Spike’s mind. This must be the friend who died. This is why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s gay!

“What are you doing?”

Spike spun around, startled. Liam stood on the top step of the ladder. His face white and taut with fury and his eyes sparked with anger.

“Um…um…just looking around.” Spike stammered.

Liam climbed into the attic and glared at the young man kneeling in front of him. He spoke in a dangerously low voice. “Go downstairs…NOW!”

Spike swallowed nervously. He had never seen Liam angry and this quiet rage was disconcerting. The only anger he had experienced came with loud shouts and curses and slapping hands. He stood up and began to descend the stairs. He glanced up at the man in the attic. Liam stood still, his hands clenched at his sides as he stared down at the albums in silence.

Spike went into the living area. Retrieving his drawing pad from the counter, he sat down at the kitchen table. Drawing usually calmed him, but not this time. He felt guilty and he was not used to that emotion. He didn’t mean anything by snooping. He just wanted to know more about Liam. He’s gonna toss me out, I know it. I’ve really fucked everything up. Bollocks. I’m a sodding idiot. Spike was shocked by the intensity of his feelings and the tears glittering in his eyes. He was furious. No one had penetrated his internal armor in a long time. I gotta fix this! But how? What do I do? He jumped up and began pacing back and forth, desperately trying to decide how to repair the rift his snooping had caused between them.

Liam didn’t know how long he stood there looking down at the box. He had not felt such anger since David died three years ago. He probably wanted to steal something to sell. He’s planning to leave…sneak away. What a shit! His shoulders sagged and hurt overtook the rage. He…how could he…I…helped him…I took care of him. He’d be dead if I didn’t find him and take him in. That ungrateful little… He sighed. Disappointment and pity warred with his anger. He’s just a kid. He obviously had a rough life. Liam knelt down to carefully put everything back into the box, sealing in another piece of his heart as he remembered his life with David.

Sailing in Long Island Sound. Theatre in the city. A trip to Costa Rica. The lush jungle more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. A dude ranch in Colorado where they rode horses. David wasn’t used to western saddles. Sleeping out in the desert seeing stars that city lights diffused. Sunday mornings. Sleeping in. Croissants, the New York Times and an afternoon stroll in Central Park. David’s test results. Months of illness. Constant care. IVs, bedpans. Watching his lover waste away. Anger at David’s acceptance of his death. Anger that he could not save him. Anger at a year of his life wasted. Guilt when he wished David would just die, and then he did.

Liam’s emotions were in turmoil, vacillating between hurt and fury, guilt and anguish. Anger flared again at the thought of Spike’s intrusion into his private life. Enraged, Liam stomped down the stairs and stalked into the living room. Spike stopped pacing and stared at the infuriated man. Liam’s face was pale and his eyes were almost feral.

“How dare you! I took you into my home. You would have died in that cold. Do you even realize that? I took you in…took care of you. Have you no decency? What – looking for something to steal so you could slip away in the dead of night?” Liam paused in his tirade; his face twisted as he laughed mockingly. “You think you’re the Big Bad?! You sobbed like a baby the other night.”

Spike had listened silently to Liam shouting. He let the man rant. He never expected such venomous accusations from the older man but he knew he deserved it. But then Liam had to go and make fun of him…taunt him, and Spike erupted in rage.

“I wasn’t stealin’ your precious stuff.” He yelled furiously. He looked at Liam’s handsome face flushed in anger, but his brown eyes were brimming with sad tears. Spike softened his voice. “I…I was curious is all. When did he die? How long have you lived alone in these woods?” Spike didn’t like to feel guilty and he felt his emotions careening out of control. “You need to get over it. Move on mate.”

Liam stalked closer to Spike glaring into face. “Move on? You little shit. You didn’t run away; they threw you out, I bet. No wonder. You have no heart.” Liam paused and closed his eyes. The rage suddenly dissipated and emotionally exhausted, he sank into a kitchen chair. He held his head in his hands and whispered. “I loved him…for eight years I loved him and we were happy. He was my life. But then he had to go and get sick. He died. He didn’t fight hard enough. He wanted to die; to leave me.”

Spike watched the change in Liam. He heard the broken heart in the man’s voice. Part of him was sad and he ached at Liam’s despair, uncertain what to do or say. The part of him that had been hardened by his harsh life experiences thought only of self-preservation. He walked behind Liam and leaned over, draping his arms around the larger man’s trembling shoulders. H lowered his head and whispered into Liam’s ear. “Liam. I’m…I’m sorry…I’m grateful that you found me…what can I do?”

Liam didn’t answer and Spike stood up and walked around the chair. He knelt down in front of the larger man and caressed his thighs. Terrified at what he could lose, he moved forward on his knees and parted Liam’s long legs, crawling between them. He didn’t know how to comfort this man. The men he was used to wanted hard sex not gentle touches.

Spike rested his head on Liam’s broad chest and wrapped his arms around the older man’s waist. Although he was trying to comfort Liam, Spike felt safe as he leaned against the man’s large warm body. He heard the rapid beating of Liam’s heart, and his quick shallow breaths. “Shhhh, Liam. He whispered, trying to offer him whatever solace he could. This was new to him – offering comfort. He didn’t remember anyone comforting him.

Ever the pragmatist, Spike relied on what he knew. He looked at Liam’s sad face and reached up and brushed his fingers in soft touches along the other man’s jaw. “It’s okay, Liam,” he said lowering his hand as he scooted closer to him, pressing his body tightly against the grieving man. “I’m sorry Liam…shhhh.” He repeated this mantra over and over while he ran his slender hands up and down Liam’s powerful arms, now weak and trembling with emotion.

Spike drew back and watched the tears as they trickled from Liam’s closed eyes onto his cheeks. He reached up and drew the taller man’s face down, closer to his own. He leaned in and began to lick the warm, salty tears as they reached the corner of the other man’s mouth. Spike tenderly placed a soft kiss on the man’s full lips.

Lost in his memories, Liam lowered his head closer to Spike’s and whispered. “David…” as he returned the kiss with one of his own.

Not sure what to make of this development, Spike kissed him again as he brought his hand up to the back of Liam’s head. The kiss began softly and then he slowly increased the pressure, teasing Liam’s lips open, tasting him. He could feel Liam getting hard in response. He knew about men and their hard cocks. He knew what they wanted and he was good at giving them relief. Thinking that maybe this was the way to save his own ass, he brought a hand down and palmed the hardening cock.

Liam stiffened immediately at the intimate touch, crashing back to reality. He jumped up from the chair, shoving Spike away from him. Liam’s kind face was now a mask of confusion and horror as he stared at the younger man sprawled onto the floor beneath him.

“What…what are you doing?” He demanded.

“Comforting you. Saw at the pictures of you and that bloke, David. I figured it out. You like to be touched by a man…” Spike replied licking his lips seductively. “I’m a man. Men like me; like how I make them feel. So…” He knew men found him attractive. He used it to get what he wanted. Sometimes it worked; other times…Spike got up from the floor and stepped closer to Liam, working it for all that it was worth.

“Stop!” Liam ordered as he stepped back. Enraged at Spike’s attempt to manipulate him with sex he hissed. “I…you slut…think you can use sex to get what you want? Afraid I’ll throw you out so you try to make me want your body?” Liam laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “I’m not like the other men you’ve obviously been with. I’m not looking for a quick fuck. After what I had with…Dav…David, how could you think I’d want to be with a hustler like you.” Liam stared at Spike and then his shoulders slumped and he lowered his eyes and whispered. “I’m…I’m not looking for anything. Nothing. I’m…It doesn’t pay to love anyone. They leave. They break your heart.”

Reverting to the only thing he knew, his arrogant street persona, Spike slowly licked his lips and curled his mouth into a suggestive pout. “Who said any about love? You’re upset and missing your lover…Come on baby, I can make you forget...” Spike replied as he sashayed toward the shocked man.

Liam glared at the street whore who stood before him in the guise of a fragile young man. What was I thinking…taking this scum into my home? Everything he does is selfish, manipulative.

Spike recoiled at the intensity of the anger he saw burning in the usually gentle, warm brown eyes and stepped back. Neither man spoke for several moments. Liam glowered at Spike and the young man shuddered slightly and took another step back, away from the seething rage marring the older man’s handsome face.

With one last look of disgust, Liam turned away and walked toward the back door, took his coat off the peg and went out into the cold. He had been a fool. Spike had no heart. He had no soul.

~Part: 4~

Hunched into his parka, Liam muttered to himself and stomped over the icy snow. Spike. Huh. Appropriate. Like one of those old railroad spikes. Sharp and deadly. Pounds into your life…your heart…No! Never again. He’s trash…a street whore. He probably has…Oh shit no…no…no. Liam yanked open the barn door and walked into his workshop; his haven. It was no safe place tonight. His anger boiled over into terror and he sank into the old rocking chair next to the stove. What if Spike had AIDS? He’s so young. I can’t do that again. I can’t. I won’t. Liam held his head in his hands and cried.

Bella and Mac watched as Spike stalked around the cabin, cursing furiously in a low voice. The two animals had bolted into the safety of the bedroom when the two men began to yell at each other. They weren’t used to such noise. When the shouting ceased, Mac crept quietly back into the living room and sat contemplating Spike. The blond young man stopped suddenly and pressed both hands to his head.

“Shit. Fuck. My head…feels like a hot poker is stabbing into it. Where’d Liam put those pills?” Spike walked into the bathroom and found the ibuprofen in the cabinet. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed bright red. He did feel hot. Stupid. Had to snoop, you stupid sod. You hated it when one of those dregs in your mom’s house touched your stuff. I didn’t take anything. Stupid ponce. Carrying a damn torch for a dead man. Ranting was not helping his head. He grabbed the pills and headed to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, grabbed a beer and washed down the pills. Fuck. I’m hot. Why the hell am I hot? Its bloody freezing. He glanced toward the fireplace and noticed that there were only embers beneath the logs. He really wasn’t certain how to light the fire. I’d probably set the damn house on fire! Bugger! William. You. Are. A. Stupid sodding… He stopped his thoughts. William? Where the hell did that come from? He stomped back to the fridge and grabbed another beer. He pressed the bottle to his face to cool it.

Damn headache. I’ll just lie on that mattress. Watch a movie. Ponce’ll feel guilty. They always do after they… Spike grabbed a movie, put it in the player and lay down carefully on the mattress. He flicked on the TV and pressed play. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom appeared on the screen. Mac flopped down next to him. Spike watched the movie for a while and despite the brutal headache fell asleep, exhausted from the verbal battle with Liam and from his own raging emotions.

A while later, Spike jerked awake. He was having trouble breathing. His chest hurt now as well as his head. He sat still for a few minutes and then began to cough violently, gasping for breath between the spasms. He was terrified. “Mac, go get Liam.” He gasped and fell back onto the mattress.

Mac licked the young man’s face. Spike panted and coughed, but didn’t open his eyes. The dog prowled, whining. He stopped near Spike and licked him. He nudged Spike with his head but the young man didn’t move. He barked, but Spike didn’t wake. Finally, the dog raced to the back door, pawed on the wood and barked loudly.

Liam was still sitting in the rocking chair when he heard Mac's barks. He listened intently. The dog whimpered and barked again and again. Usually, Mac only barked in greeting or if something was wrong. Liam sprung out of the chair and threw on his jacket as he ran to the barn door. Mac’s barking was insistent. Something had to be terribly wrong. Shit, Spike! What did he do now? He sprinted toward the cabin, slipping on the icy patches of snow. By the time he pulled the door open, Mac was in a frenzy: barking, growling. He grabbed Liam’s hand in his mouth and pulled. When he knew Liam would follow, he sped into the living area, skirted the sofa and stood. He looked down at something, back up to Liam and whined pitifully.

Liam’s heart pounded as he walked toward his whimpering dog. He looked around but could not see Spike. The young man lay on the mattress panting, his face pasty white and sweaty. Liam knelt down. When Spike felt Liam’s weight, he opened his eyes. They were glazed with fever. Liam placed a hand onto his forehead; it was extremely hot. The boy struggled up onto one arm and his body spasmed with coughs. “I can’t…breathe…chest hurts.” He gasped and fell back onto the mattress; his beautiful blue eyes were bright with tears. “It hurts…Liam…it hurts.”

Liam heard the rasping chest and his heart stopped. David…Pneumonia… Hold on Spike… The boy had closed his eyes and didn’t respond. Liam took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Doc Clayton. “Doc, Liam. Spike…Spike’s really sick. He can’t breathe.” The worried man listened. “Okay…okay.” He hung up. He grabbed pillows from the sofa, lifted Spike’s head and propped it up. The younger man groaned and his body trembled again as he coughed. “I’ll be right back, Spike. Stay quiet. The doctor’s coming.” There was no response.

Liam hurried into the kitchen. He wet a cloth with cold water and came back to kneel at Spike’s side. Mac had moved closer, his large head at rest on Spike’s legs. The dog looked up at Liam and whimpered. Liam smiled at his dog and patted his head. “He’ll be okay, boy.” The frail young man gasped; unable to get enough air into his lungs. Liam gently swiped the cool cloth over the sick young man’s feverish face. “It’ll be all right. Doc’s coming. You’ll be okay. Hang on, Spike.”

He heard the siren of the ambulance and a few minutes later, the doctor had examined Spike and confirmed what Liam had suspected. Pneumonia. The sheriff arrived as the EMTs were giving him oxygen. They quickly wrapped him up and carried him to the ambulance.

The doctor looked at his young friend’s face creased with worry and placed a hand on his arm. “Liam, he’s young. He’s a fighter. He’ll be okay. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Go in the ambulance.”

The sheriff nodded. “Go, Liam. I’ll make sure Bella and Mac have food. Make sure the fire’s tamped down. Call me when you get there. Let me know…I’ll go to Mrs. Jenkins.

Liam nodded in thanks and hurried outside and climbed into the waiting vehicle.

His body tense with concern for both men, the sheriff stared as the ambulance pulled away from the cabin. He then hurried to his car and drove to tell Mrs. Jenkins what had happened. Everyone knew that she cared deeply about both Liam and Spike. Her only son had died when he was a teenager.

Liam watched as the paramedic kept a constant check on Spike. Spike’s mouth and nose were covered with an oxygen mask to help him breathe. He watched the slow rise and fall of Spike’s chest. It’s taking too long…damn. He looked worriedly as the young paramedic checked Spike’s vitals, and relayed them to the hospital in St. Alban’s, about forty minutes away. This was the only negative thing about living on a small island – no hospital. The ambulance raced up the highway and across the bridge to the mainland, where it had to navigate the crowded city streets cluttered with pedestrians.

Liam looked down at Spike and grabbed his small hand as the younger man erupted into another coughing fit. He could hear the fluid in the sick man’s lungs. He thought about David…David gasping for breath…his skin white and glowing with sweat between the lesions that marred his beautiful skin. He closed his eyes and said a prayer for the troubled young man that had come into his life. He hoped that some deity would hear him and answer his prayer this time.

The trip to the hospital seemed to take forever. As he stared down at Spike’s sharp cheekbones and his scarred eyebrow, Liam rubbed his thumb back and forth over the younger man’s hand. He lowered his head and whispered. Spike…I’m here…fight this…you have to fight! Suddenly, he felt the ambulance stop. He looked up and saw that they had arrived at the hospital. Soon the back doors of the vehicle flew open and the Emergency Room personnel hurried out. They removed Spike, placed him on a stretcher and rolled it quickly inside. Liam followed in close pursuit.

At their arrival in the emergency room, Liam stood by helplessly as the paramedics rattled off all the information they had been tracking en route. He watched as Spike’s limp body was moved off the gurney onto a bed.

Soon a nurse was at Liam’s side. She peppered him with questions, for which he had no answer. He told them Spike’s name, his age, how he found him and that he was a runaway. He had no other information, not even his last name.

The nurse grimaced and turned away. Liam walked slowly toward Spike and watched the doctor work on him. The nurse took his arm and told him he had to go into the waiting room, and that a doctor would be out soon to give him a report. With no other choice, he let the nurse lead him into the room set aside for family members.

Liam sat for a few minutes, then stood and started pacing. He stared at the clock on the wall.

“Mr. de Angelus?”

Liam turned around and saw the doctor. He walked quickly toward him.

“Yes, I’m Liam de Angelus. How’s Spike?”

“Not well I’m afraid. He’s got pneumonia. We’ve started him on an IV drip and have given him some antibiotics. As soon as I’m sure he’s stable, we’ll move him into a room.”

“Will he be okay?” Liam asked worriedly.

“He should be, in time. I understand you found him out in the woods? Is there anything thing else you can tell me?”

“Not really. He’s from California. Lived on the streets for a while. Why?”

“Well, he’s underweight for his age and height and he’s anemic. Do you know if he’s a drug user?”

“No, I don’t think so. He hasn’t been very forthcoming and closes up when I try and ask questions. From what he’s told me recently, he was sexually abused.” Liam swallowed

“We have to know as much as we can in order to help him. Do you know anything else?” The doctor asked staring intently into Liam’s face.

“He…he hustled to survive, I think.”

“Well, we are going to run some more tests and lab work on him so we know exactly what we are dealing with. We’ll test for STDs and we are also going to run an HIV test on him just to make sure, given the information you have just told me.”

“Can I see him doctor? He doesn’t like hospitals and I want to let him know that I’m here. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Then you can accompany him up to his room if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” Liam followed the doctor back into the emergency room. “How long do you think he’ll be here?”

“A few days to a week. Could be longer if we find anything else, once the results are back. I understand you are from North Hero?”

“Yes. The doctor that has been looking after Spike is on his way also. When I found him he'd had a concussion.”

Liam stopped talking and came up short when he saw Spike lying on the bed with tubes running out of his small body. Just like David. He shook his head to get the thought out of his mind and continued towards Spike’s bed. He saw that he was conscious.

“Hey Spike. You’re going to be okay.”

Spike tried to respond, but the oxygen mask wouldn’t let him. He lifted a quivering hand to remove it. Liam reached out and stilled his hand.

“No Spike. You need to keep that on. It’s helping you to breathe easier. You’ve got pneumonia, and you are going to have to stay here for a few days until you’re better.” Spike clutched Liam’s hand and stared up at him, his eyes glistening with tears. Liam felt the small hand tremble as it took his.

“The doctors need to run a few more tests and then they will be taking you up to your room.”

Spike shook his head. He quickly withdrew his hand from Liam’s and lifted the mask from his face, “Home…please…don’t want to be alone.”

Liam’s heart wrenched when Spike said he wanted to go home – home to his cabin. He put the mask back in place. “In a few days, Spike. Nothing to be frightened about. You won’t be alone. I won’t leave. I’m going to stay right here with you. Okay?”

Spike nodded and grasped Liam’s hand again. The younger man’s skin was moist and warm and he could feel every bone. Liam stayed there holding his hand as the nurses drew blood from Spike. When they were finished, he followed them as they wheeled him up to his room, walking quickly to keep up, never taking his eyes away from Spike’s fevered face.

Liam stood helplessly by the window as the nurse got Spike situated in his room and settled in the bed. When she was done with her charge, she looked at her watch and then at Liam. “Visiting hours are over in 30 minutes.”

Liam nodded his understanding. He tried to convince the staff to let him stay on a cot in Spike’s room. He explained that the young man didn’t like hospitals and didn’t want to be alone. He was informed that since he wasn’t related to Spike, he couldn’t stay. Doctor Clayton tried to intercede, but rules were rules. The nurses did tell him about a motel about a block from the hospital. He got the number and called for a reservation. Now he had to explain it to Spike, and he was afraid that the sick and frightened young man wasn’t going to be happy.

When the nurse left, Liam pulled a chair over next to the bed and sat down. “Spike, I’m going to have to go in about an hour.”

Spike looked at him, his eyes wide with fear.

“It’s okay.” Liam said as he took Spike’s hand. “This is a good hospital and they’ll take good care of you. I will only be a block away. I tried to get them to let me stay here, but since I’m not related or even a guardian, there was nothing I could do to get them to change their minds. But I promise I’ll be here first thing…as soon as visiting hours start and I’ll be close by until you are released. Doc Clayton will be in to see you before he goes back to the island tomorrow morning.”

Spike wasn’t happy with this, but he nodded his understanding. He still couldn't speak because of the oxygen mask that helped him breathe. Liam didn’t miss the tears that glittered in the corner of the younger man’s beautiful blue eyes.

“So, would you like me to bring you anything tomorrow? I figure after a while, even the TV will be boring for you. I don’t think you’ll be able to use your sketch pad for another day or so.”

Spike shook his head no, as Liam looked at his watch.

He stood and stared sadly at the frail form that lay on the bed. “Well Spike, it’s time. I need to leave now, but I promise I’ll be back first thing in the morning. As soon as they let me in. Okay?”

Spike nodded as he released Liam’s hand. Liam walked toward the door, and turned around for one last look. “Sleep well, Spike. Before you know it, you’ll be right as rain and out of here. Good night.”

Spike raised his arm weakly and gave a Liam a wave before he walked out of the room. He closed his eyes, but the tears slipped onto his cheeks. Bleeding Ponce. Always a cock-up. Pneumonia! Bollocks! Never got sick in California. You’d think the sodding cold would kill the germs. Disgusted with himself, he wiped the tears with his free hand. Bloody hell, what a nancy boy! Never needed anyone before. Liam walks out of the room and you bleeding fall to pieces. Spike opened his eyes and gazed around the darkened room, silent and lonely. He began to sob, his slender body shuddered, and despite the oxygen, he gasped for breath.

A nurse flew into the room. “Spike, Spike. Calm down. She adjusted the oxygen and added something into the IV. You set off alarms, kiddo.” She smiled at him, although her motherly face was creased with concern. “Made me spill my coffee.” She teased. She wiped his face and marveled at the young man’s sharp cheekbones. “You know, women pay thousands for cheek bones like yours. Ever thought about being a model?”

Spike shook his head. Is there anyone here who’s…who’s mean? I must be in Never Never Land. There’s gotta be a Captain Hook somewhere. Thought that sheriff was an enemy but…It’s Liam. Everyone…Liam makes everyone care.

“Spike, I gave you something to help you sleep. Gotta go back to reading about Tom and Katie. Think they’ll stay together?” She laughed and placed the call button into his hand. “You need anything darlin’, press that button, I’m right outside, okay?”

Spike nodded. He blinked his eyes sleepily.

“Go to sleep, love. Rest will help you get out of here quicker. Your friend will be here in the morning.” She patted his hand and left the room.

My friend…Liam…never had a friend before. He’ll be back. Liam keeps his word.

Liam got to the hospital the next morning a bit early, so he stopped in the cafeteria and ate some breakfast. He sat there eating and thinking. Last night was the first night since Spike made an appearance in his life that he was alone. He forgot how quiet it was by himself. He wondered what it was about this young man that caused him to want to help him so much…to fix him. He thought he was perfectly fine and had things all under control these last few years. But as he lay in bed at the motel, he realized he was much like Spike; running away from his problems…life…instead of facing it. He remembered how devastated he was when David died. He not only had to deal with his death, but also with the all guilt he heaped upon himself. He did his best to help David. He did nothing else 24/7 during his illness. He gave up his friends, his work…his life. Because of that, he wished at times that David would just die and be done with it. Liam grew tired and resentful, and that caused his guilt to expand. So that when David finally did die, he had to get away….get away from New York and all the memories of their life there.

Then, Spike entered his life. The troubled young man made him care again; punched some holes in the wall around his life, his heart. He tensed. He’s gonna run off again. I know it. The island is too quiet for him. He gets well, he’ll run to the city. And…And I’ll be alone…again.

Liam was startled out of his thoughts when he heard that visiting hours had begun. Gathering up the remains of his breakfast, he stood and walked out of the cafeteria. Before going up to Spike’s room, he stopped at the hospital gift store, hoping to find something that Spike would like. He browsed around the shop until he saw the magazine rack. Liam scratched his head absently as he perused the offerings. He had no clue of what Spike would like to read. He knew the younger man had been reading poetry with Mrs. Jenkins, but he didn’t seem to read on his own. He tried to think back to when he was 18. What did I like? He saw a recent issue of Rolling Stone. Well, all young adults liked music, so he grabbed it. He then noticed an Entertainment Weekly. Picking it up, he glanced through it. Spike seemed to like movies, so he kept that one. When he didn’t anything else that he thought Spike would like, he went over to check out the books. The selection was mostly romance novels and spy novels. Taking a chance, he picked up a Tom Clancy novel and one by Stephen King. He figured that if Spike didn’t like them, he could always just donate them to the library on the island.

Once he paid for his purchases, he headed to the elevators that would take him up to Spike. He checked in at the nurses’ station, and then walked into Spike’s room. Liam saw that Spike was free of the oxygen mask and figured that was a good sign.

“Hey Spike.” Liam called out.

Spike turned toward his voice and smiled. “Hi, Liam. You came.”

”I told you I would. Did you actually think I’d just leave you here?”

Spike just shrugged.

Sighing and a bit disappointed that Spike doubted him, he walked over toward the bed, and handed the bag to Spike. The young man glanced up at Liam, then down at the bag Liam held out to him. He took the bag and looked inside.

“Wasn’t sure what you liked to read, so I thought I’d take a chance. If you don’t like any of them, let me know and I’ll bring something else tomorrow.”

Pulling the items out, he replied, “No, this is great. Thanks, Liam.” He glanced up at the dark-haired man who had been so kind to him, and smiled.

Liam smiled back. “You’re welcome.” He responded as he sat in the chair next to the bed. “You just let me know what else you’d like and I’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t need to, Liam. Really it’s fine.”

“Look Spike, you are going to be in here for a few days. Before you know it, the TV will be boring. I’m going to see if there’s a store around here that sells art supplies and pick you up a sketch pad and some pencils so you can while away the hours with your comics. How does that sound?”

Spike lowered his eyes and Liam watched as a deep red flush bloomed Spike's pale neck and face. “Um…Great…” He raised his head and Liam saw the tears wavering at the corners of those captivating blue eyes. “Liam…don’t get why you’re being so nice to me. I mean…I took money from you and ran away…How can you…how can you care about someone like me?” His body stiffened and he lowered his eyes again. “You just feel sorry for me…don’t need pity.”

Liam’s heart clenched. His life on the streets has made him mistrust everyone – at 18! “Spike…listen to me…I don’t pity you and I don’t feel sorry for you. I know I don’t know everything about you, but from what I can guess, you didn’t have a great life either in England or California…had it very tough if I’m not far off the mark. No one deserves that. I know I can’t change what happened, but I do want to help you and for no other reason that you need it and because you make me laugh and I don’t laugh that much.” Liam grinned.

Spike had lifted his head at Liam’s last few words. He snorted. “Too right…damn gloomy Gus you are.” He softened his words with a sweet smile and then looked at Liam skeptically. “I’m right. I’m bloody well not in Kansas anymore. You sure Mac ain’t a small, wired-haired mutt named Toto?”

Liam laughed and Spike joined him, but soon he was coughing and gasping for breath. They both suddenly remembered that Spike was very sick. Liam helped the young man put the oxygen mask on again.

A nurse bustled in. “Spike, you’ve got to stay calm.” She glared slightly at Liam, who blushed under her scrutiny. The nurse checked Spike’s temperature and fiddled with the lines of antibiotics. After she smoothed the covers, she nodded and left.

Spike reached for his hand and Liam could see the smirk on his face despite the mask. When the younger man waggled his eyebrows, Liam burst out laughing. Despite the cough, Spike was feeling better emotionally. He had a nice laugh and there was actually a twinkle in his eyes that Liam had never seen before. He was a bit more relaxed and he looked more like a young man of 18. Maybe he’d finally gotten through to Spike, at least just a little bit.

Before either man knew it, the morning had worn on, and the nurse was coming in to bring Spike lunch. Liam left to get himself some lunch. He quickly returned with a sandwich hidden in his pocket. Food was not supposed to be taken out of the cafeteria. Spike grinned at his deception. “Better not let that nurse catch you eatin’ in here. She’ll throw you out.” He sobered quickly. “How’re Bella and Mac?”

“They’re fine. John and the sheriff go everyday. John said Bella sleeps on your bed and runs when she hears him open the door. She looks at him, meows and then lifts her tail and stalks back into the bedroom. John takes Mac to the store during the day and Bella is waiting at the door when they return. John says it is quite obvious that she’s pissed at being left.”

“Poor Bella. She’s lonely. I’ve got to get out of here soon.”

Liam’s heart was touched by the younger man’s concern for the animals, especially Bella, who had become Spike’s cat. Although she liked Liam, it was obvious from the beginning that she preferred Spike. She brought out the tenderness that the young man kept hidden from everyone.

The two men spent the afternoon together quietly talking and reading together, although Spike fell asleep for a few hours. Liam watched the younger man sleep fitfully and he grasped his hand, rubbing his thumb over the back which seemed to calm him. He dozed himself and was startled awake when the dinner tray was delivered. Doc Clayton arrived while Spike was pushing the food around his plate.

The old man noticed and spoke sharply. “Spike, you have to eat. You’re underweight. They’ll keep you longer if they don’t think you’re strong enough to go home.”

Liam and the doctor grinned when the younger man shoved a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. They chatted a while and then Spike insisted that Liam go out to dinner with the doctor. Liam promised to sneak something back for him from the restaurant.

As they ate, the doctor told Liam more about Spike’s health. “All the tests came back negative, Liam. No STDs. No HIV. He’s anemic and they’re trying to build him up. His lungs are still working only partly. They won’t release him until the lungs are clear.”

When Liam and Doc Clayton returned to the hospital they found John and Amy in Spike’s room. Amy had brought a bouquet of tulips and a small box of chocolates, which Spike had already opened. Liam brought out a slice of chocolate cake that he had the waiter had wrap up for him. Spike’s eyes lit up and he readily devoured the treat. All too soon, everyone had to leave. The doctor, John and Amy said goodnight. Liam remained and Spike could tell something was up.

“What’s wrong, Liam?”

“Mrs. Jenkins is in the hospital in Burlington. She had shortness of breath and Doc Clayton sent her over there for tests. There are heart specialists at the medical center. She wanted you to know so that you’d understand why she didn’t come to see you.”

Spike’s face had paled visibly. “She gonna be okay?”

“She should be. She’ll have to take different medicines and go into Burlington for checkups.” He paused and smiled. “She made the doc promise not to tell her daughter. If she found out she’d insist that her mother come live with her in Boston. Mrs. Jenkins is like you – feisty and independent. She wouldn’t be happy living with her daughter.”

“Burlington, huh?” Spike said with a sly grin.

“Oh, I knew you’d pick up on that. We can probably take her into one of her hospital appointments.” Liam smiled. Spike can be so…so cute. He pushed that thought away quickly. Spike’s concern for Mrs. Jenkins proved to him that his harsh street bravado was a protective shield that covered a gentle, caring heart. If he stays here, perhaps he’ll lose all of the hurt and anger and allow himself to… Liam shoved those thoughts away too, almost relieved when the nurse came in and announced visiting hours were over. “See you tomorrow, Spike. Do you need anything before I go?”

All the light had gone out of Spike’s eyes. “No. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ll be here as soon as they let me in. I’ll try to find out more about Mrs. Jenkins.” Liam said as he placed his hand on the younger man’s thin shoulder.

“That’d be good. Good night.” Spike answered quietly as he looked up into the older man’s concerned face. He tried to smile to reassure Liam, but it did not reach his eyes.

When Liam arrived at the hospital the next day, Spike was not in his room. He panicked and hurried out to the nurses’ station. “Where’s Spike?” He demanded.

“Oh, Liam, he’s having chest x-rays. He’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t worry. Nothing’s wrong.”

Liam stood at the window in Spike’s room, the package of pencils and art paper clutched in his hand. Please…please let him be better. He needs to be home. Liam startled when he realized what he thought. It is his home…for as long as he wants it. I…I hope he wants to stay.

The nurse wheeled Spike into the room and Liam had to laugh at the younger man’s embarrassed and annoyed face.

Spike glared at him. “Pushed around like some bleeding old codger.” He stood up and got into bed and the nurse reattached the lines.

“How’d it go? They say anything? Lungs better?” Liam asked anxiously.

“Don’t tell ya nothin’ do they? Just stick needles in. Take x-rays. Bloody respiration therapy every morning. Sod it all.” He answered disgustedly.

Liam handed Spike the bag with the art supplies and the younger man’s brow unfurrowed. For the rest of the afternoon, each man worked in his sketchpad as they talked quietly.

Liam and Spike spent the next few days in the same way. Liam would come as soon as visiting hours began in late morning and spend the entire day. They read and talked together, shared their meals and phoned Mrs. Jenkins each day. They watched TV and worked in their sketchbooks. When Spike could get up, they walked to the solarium. The younger man basked in the sunlight that poured in through the glass walls. Liam hid his worries that Spike would leave Vermont, preferring a warmer climate. He wanted the younger man to stay. He hadn’t realized that he missed having company. Spike needed help; his life had been horrible. Liam wanted to help him.

When Liam came on the morning of the fifth day, he saw that the doctor was there. He examined Spike and listened to his lungs. Liam stood outside for a few minutes and then knocked on the door. The doctor looked up and waved him into the room.

“How’s he doing, doctor?” Liam asked. He hoped that Spike would be able to leave soon.

“He’s doing much better than I expected, sick as he was when you brought him in. I figure he can go home in the next day or so.”

Liam smiled at Spike’s grinning face.

“He’s going home with you?” The doctor inquired.

“Yes. He lives with me in North Hero.”

“Well, you have to feed him. His weight is far below what it should be for his height. You’re name’s de Angelus right?”

Liam nodded, puzzled.

“You’re Italian – make him lots of pasta.” The doctor winked and left the room.

“Did’ja hear that? Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll go home tomorrow.” Spike said, his face flushed with happy anticipation.

When Liam heard the younger man say home he could almost feel his heart doing summersaults.

~Part: 5~

Although he still tired quickly, Spike grew stronger everyday. His skin had less pallor and his eyes were a clear, brilliant blue again. Liam and he drove into town to get Spike some clothes. Liam had picked up two pair of sweatpants, sweatshirts and heavy socks, but he wanted the younger man to choose some things himself.

Spike got out of the truck and stared up at the small building. “Dry goods? What the heck are dry goods?”

Liam laughed. “That’s an old term for a store that sells fabrics, clothes and stuff.” The older man hesitated. “There won’t be a big selection, Spike. We’ll go over to Burlington when you’re stronger.”

Spike smiled. “Been wantin’ to go to Burlington. Big city and all.”

“We’ll go before Christmas.” Liam promised.

The two men entered the dry goods store; a bell tinkled as they went in. Spike shook his head. Sodding 'Little House on the Prairie'. The young woman behind the counter smiled. “Hey, Liam. Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Hey, Jess. This is Spike.” Liam answered.

“Oh. Hi. Heard about you. Feeling better? You look good.” She said with a wink.

Spike smiled slightly and nodded. He turned to look at Liam and rolled his eyes.

Liam laughed. Spike was not used to the ways of a tiny place like North Hero Island, where everyone pretty much knew what was going on. He knew the townspeople had speculated about him but he had kept mostly to himself. Spike’s mysterious arrival, his punkish looks and his recent stay in the hospital made both of them a dinner table topic, he was certain.

“Ah…, Jess. We’re gonna look around,” Liam said with a grin.

“Sure. Let me know if I can help. I’ll be in the back for a few minutes – checking on my mom.”

Jess’ mom had multiple sclerosis. Her dad had fled when his wife was diagnosed and the girl came home from college to care for her mother. Liam admired the girl for her devotion and was angry with her father for abandoning his family. His heart clenched as he remembered his parents…

Liam watched in amusement as Spike searched the clothing area. He could tell that he was not terribly impressed by the selection. The bleach has grown out of his hair. I like the blonde tips on his light brown hair. It’s softer. Touchable. Liam jerked away from his risky thoughts, just as Spike looked up, his face twisted in annoyance.

“I don’t see any black jeans.” He shook his head and picked up a pair of blue jeans. “Where are the T-shirts?”

Liam handed him a package of white Hanes T-shirts and couldn’t hide his smirk.

Spike’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell!”

He went into the small, curtained dressing room to try on the jeans. He came out looking chagrined. The jeans were too big. “Huh. That’s the size I wore before.”

“You’ve lost weight, Spike.” Liam said.

While Spike tried on a smaller pair of jeans, Liam walked around picking up a few other things. Spike came out of the tiny dressing room. “They fit. Gotta wash’em a bunch of times though; they’re too stiff.” He grumbled.

Liam handed him a flannel shirt. “It’s too cold just for T-shirts, Spike.” Again Liam had to hide his smile at the incredulous look on Spike's face.

“We’ll go to Burlington, Liam, yeah? These…they aren’t my kind of clothes.” Spike sad quietly.

Liam smiled and nodded. “Promise.”

The only shoes the store had were work boots and a few pairs of soft suede desert boots. Liam convinced Spike to get both. “Your boots are destroyed from the wet, Spike.”

The slender man looked broken-hearted. “Yeah, I know. They’ll have Doc Martins in Burlington. It’s a college town. They can’t all be…” He left the sentence hang as he noticed what Liam was holding up.

Liam lowered his voice. “I know you don’t usually wear underwear, but maybe a few pair?”

Spike rolled his eyes again.

“Boxers or briefs?” Liam asked as he held up a package of each.

Spike closed his eyes and sighed dramatically. Sodding underwear. Bugger. “Boxers.”

“Plaid, solid or Fleur de Lis?” Liam couldn’t help himself and he burst out laughing at the pained look on Spike's face. “Sorry. The look on your face is…” He struggled to swallow his merriment.

“Liam.” Spike said the name deadly seriously as he grabbed the package of dark solid boxers.

“You need a coat, Spike.” Liam said as they strolled around the store. “Here, how about this?” He asked holding up a black Pea coat. “It’s black.”

“Yeah, OK. Least it doesn’t have a poncey fur hood.” Spike groused.

Spike and Liam lived in friendly camaraderie. Spike drew, read and worked with Liam in the barn. They watched films from Liam’s huge collection. Liam never asked any more questions about Spike’s life or spoke about David.

He heard a car crunch on the snow. It was probably their neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins. She had been coming over frequently since he had come home from the hospital. According to Liam, her husband of fifty years had died in early autumn and she was alone. Her daughter and her family lived in Boston and they did not visit often. Mrs. Jenkins was seventy-five years old; travel was not as easy as it once was for her.

Spike had never known either of his grandmothers but he didn’t think they would have been like Mrs. Jenkins. He often thought about the generosity and sincerity of the people he had met since Liam found him in the woods several weeks ago. He experienced more kindness here than he had in his whole life. Liam, Mrs. Jenkins – neither of them had any reason to care about him. He couldn’t figure it out.

“Spike!”

Spike stood up and grinned. Bella usually sat with him when he drew and she was stretched across several of the scraps of paper he had rejected. He scratched her head and heard the deep rumbling throughout her body although she didn’t open her eyes. Her presence and soft fur were soothing and he never felt lonely when he heard her purring.

“I’m comin’, Mrs. Jenkins.”

He opened the door for the old woman. She stood on the porch with a crock-pot in her hands. He reached for it quickly and followed her into the cabin.

“What’s this then? Minestrone?” Spike asked.

“No. It’s a special treat – shrimp bisque.” The old woman answered with a smile.

“Shrimp bisque – what’s that?”

“It’s a creamy soup with shrimp. It’s a cold-weather soup. I don’t usually make it until Thanksgiving, but you need to get some meat on those bones.”

Mrs. Jenkins was unpacking things from her basket and Spike’s nose twitched and his mouth watered as the soup’s aroma wafted throughout the kitchen. He smelled the warm bread.

“I’ll call Liam.”

The old woman bustled around the kitchen and Spike went to the back door. He pulled it open to find Liam standing on the back porch, his beautiful face flushed pink with the cold. Mac bounded in, almost knocking Spike down.

“Mrs. Jenkins brought soup – shrimp something.” Spike said with a smile.

“HMMMMM – that is so good. Perfect for a cold day. Mac knows she always has a soup bone for him,” Liam answered. They watched the dog scamper up to the woman and sit at her feet.

Spike went back into the kitchen area to help Mrs. Jenkins. Liam hung up his outerwear and took off his boots and joined them. The soup’s aroma and the fragrance of warm bread filled the small cabin. Spike felt tears prick his eyes but he quickly blinked them away. This is like a sodding fairy tale! Never believed anyone lived like this.

After lunch Liam went back out to the barn. Christmas wasn’t that far away and he had quite a few orders to complete. Mrs. Jenkins sat in the chair by the fire and Spike sprawled at her feet, reading one of the books from her husband’s library.

“How do you like William Blake, Spike?” The old woman asked.

“He’s different. I don’t always know exactly what he means in his poems. Like his paintings, though. It’s weird. They look too modern for his time.”

“Yes, he was quite a visionary and he was pretty weird.” She said with a grin. “He said he had visions and he painted what he saw in them.” She continued to knit the tiny pink sweater for her soon to be born great-granddaughter. “Have you been drawing?”

Spike sat up and closed the book. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

Mrs. Jenkins was one of a very few people who had ever seen all of his art. He trusted her and he wasn’t used to trusting anyone; now he trusted Liam and Mrs. Jenkins. He brought his drawing pad over to her chair. She put down her knitting and he handed her his sketchbook and sat down beside her. She paged through the latest drawings without speaking. Finally she looked up at him. “Spike, you have great talent. The faces are so distinct. I can’t see how these are considered comics.”

“They are a different kind of comic – modern, fantasy.” He replied.

“Spike.” Her blue eyes were blurred with tears. “My eyes are old but these are…horrible things are happening in these frames.”

Spike lowered his head and spoke into the floor. “I saw this stuff happen. Saw the…the brutality.”

Mrs. Jenkins put her hand on his shoulder. “Spike. Did anything like this ever happen to you?”

Spike didn’t answer for several minutes. Finally he looked up at the old woman. “Yeah, some.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“’S OK. It’s in the past. Never goin’ back.” He looked up at the woman and gave her a slight smile. “Gave me lots of ideas to draw. Maybe I’ll be able to sell these someday.”

Spike took the sketchpad back and put it away. He sat down again and went back to his book and Mrs. Jenkins picked up her knitting. They sat in companionable silence for an hour until Liam stomped into the cabin.

“Hey. It’s getting colder, Mrs. Jenkins. Heavy cloud cover, so it’s really dark. Did John drive you over?”

Liam knew that the old woman was no longer able to drive because of her heart problems. She was not happy about having to depend on anyone, even though everyone on the island was willing to help her.

“Yes. I’ll call him.”

“I’ll take you home, although my truck isn’t as comfy as his SUV.” He said with a smile.

The old woman stood up and put her knitting things away. “I filled some containers with the rest of the soup. You’ll have it for a few days or you can freeze it.”

Liam grinned. “There will be no freezing. Spike and I will devour it.”
“It’s pretty windy Spike, but do you want to come? I thought I’d stop at the store.”

“Yeah. Need another sketchpad and some colored pencils.”

“I’m gonna have to build another room just to store his drawing pads.” Liam teased good-naturedly. He saw Spike tense a bit. “You know I’m kidding, right? I love your stuff. When are you going to put me in one of your strips?”

Spike smiled shyly. He had not shown Liam any of his real comic strips, only some of his practice frames where he drew faces and clothing but no action. He knew that this gentle man would be horrified by the harsh subjects of his drawings and he didn’t want to worry him. Bugger. I’m gettin’ squidgy with all this worryin’ about his feelings. But he knew he’d given Liam a lot to worry about since he arrived in Vermont. It was new for him - having someone worry about him. It was…confusing and strangely comforting.

The two men lived peacefully for the weeks drawing up to Thanksgiving. Spike was getting stronger – eating well and his sleep was not always haunted by nightmares. He told Liam he was fine and could sleep on the air mattress, but Liam refused. “There’s a draft on the floor Spike. I don’t want to chance it until you’re totally well.”

Often Spike found himself crying in bed. Not really out of sadness, but from Liam’s concern and friendship. He felt like he was in a wonderful fantasy world, but he worried that the dream would end for some reason. He had lived his life in a constant state of flux. He was not used to depending on anything to last. He worked with Liam in the barn in the afternoons; he couldn’t stand the cold first thing in the morning despite the blazing wood stove. He got better at sanding and staining the furniture pieces. With Liam’s help, he began to make a small footstool. He wanted to give it to Mrs. Jenkins for Christmas. This would be the first present he ever gave anyone. He was working on a little book filled with his drawings for Liam.

One morning when they were getting supplies at the general store, John approached them. “Hey. We’re having Thanksgiving dinner. Mrs. Jenkins, the doc and the sheriff are coming. We’d like you both to come.”

Liam was startled. He had been asked to dinner by John and Amy before but he had always refused. “Umm…” He looked over at Spike lifting his eyebrow inquiringly.

“Sheriff’ll be off duty, yeah?” Spike asked. “Don’t want to spend dinner answerin’ questions.”

John nodded and grinned and Amy spoke from her perch on a ladder on the other side of the store. “I’ll tell Tom questions are verboten on Thanksgiving.”

“Verboten?” Spike asked.

“That means, " forbidden". Amy’s parents came from Germany.” John answered.

“OK, Spike?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, okay.”

The two men left the store and went to the lumberyard and the pharmacy. Spike had to get his antibiotics refilled and Doc Clayton insisted that he start taking vitamins, much to the young man’s annoyance. On the way home, Spike was a bit more fidgety than normal.

“Something wrong, Spike?” Liam asked.

He didn’t answer for several minutes. “I’m English. Heard about Thanksgiving but I’m not really sure what you have to do.”

“Didn’t you celebrate Thanksgiving with your mother in California?”

“Nah, she’s from England, too. Never got into Thanksgiving…holidays. Um…we moved a lot.” Spike answered quietly.

Liam recovered from his surprise. “Well, you’ll love it. There’s tons of food. Of course the turkey, stuffing, and several desserts. Do you like pie?”

“Yeah. I like sweet stuff. You don’t. No cookies or candy in your cupboards.” Spike snarked.

Liam laughed. “Why didn’t you say something when we were at John’s? You could have picked out some stuff.”

“Thought you might not like it. You bein’ a health nut and all.”

“Spike, you live in this house, too. You are entitled to have things that you like. Next time we go into town you can get whatever sweets you want.”

“You sure about that? Might tempt you. Don’t want you gettin’ fat.” Spike said with a grin.

Liam grinned back and playfully hit him on the shoulder. “You can hide it. I won’t snoop.” Liam stopped and realized what he said. “Spike…I didn’t mean…”

“’S okay,” he interrupted, a slight flush flooding his pale cheeks. “I did snoop.”

The two of them were quiet for the rest of the ride back to the cabin.

Several days later, Spike awoke to find Liam humming and bustling around the kitchen area. He heard Spike’s footsteps and looked up. “Morning, Sleepy Head – it’s ten o’clock.”

“Listen, Mate. I’m used to stayin’ out all night and gettin’ up in the afternoon. Only been gettin’ up early since I’ve been here.” Spike responded a bit sharply.

Liam drew back at the young man’s tone.

“Sorry…didn’t sleep that well…grumpy.” Spike apologized.

Liam looked worried. “Trouble breathing?

“No...um…bad dreams….what are you doin?”

“I’m making an appetizer for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. It’s called bruchetta.” Liam answered with a smile.

“What?” Spike looked totally confused.

"Bruchetta - slices of bread oven-toasted and topped with tomatoes, cheese and spices.” Liam answered.

“Italian? Like pizza?” The younger man asked.

“Not exactly. It’s my grandmother’s recipe; she came from Florence. You can help me with it.”

“I’m not good in the kitchen.”

“It’s easy, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine.” Liam said.

“I’m good at eatin” – especially sweet stuff.” Spike smirked.

Liam grinned. “You’ll love Amy’s chocolate mousse pie; it’s topped with whipped cream.” Liam grinned.

“If it’s chocolate, I’ll like it.” Spike returned Liam’s grin.

Liam put his hand on his hip and shook the spoon at Spike, pretending to look stern but failing miserably. “Yeah, but you have to eat dinner first, young man.”

Spike tried to tease back. “Yes, daddy.” Both men stiffened slightly but for very different reasons. “Um…didn’t”

Liam interrupted as he turned quickly back to the kitchen counter. He had been adored by his parents until…until he broke their hearts. “Want some breakfast? Then you can help me mince the tomatoes.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of hungry. Um…does "mince" mean cut?” Spike asked.

Liam was often amazed at the younger man’s lack of knowledge about some things. He wondered, not for the first time, about Spike’s home life in California. “Yes, but cut very small. I’ll show you after you eat. Eggs? Bacon?”

Spike’s face grew brighter. “Yeah. I forgot we got bacon.”

After breakfast Liam showed Spike how to mince the tomatoes for the bruchetta. He watched Liam intently as he mixed in the other ingredients. “Before you, I never saw a man cook…except on those cooking shows.”

“I like to cook. I’ll have to teach you, then you can make me breakfast.” Liam smiled.

“Yeah. I’d like that. I only know how to put stuff in the microwave.” Spike replied.

Liam shivered. “Processed food, yuk.”

Spike laughed out loud at the disgusted look on Liam's face. “You are a right ponce, Mr. Health Nut.”

Liam gave him a mock glare and handed him a bowl and a whisk. “Here, whisk these eggs. I’m making a meringue for the pie.”

Spike looked lost at first but then his face turned hard and he spoke angrily. “You know I don’t know how to do all this stuff.” He sighed and lowered his head. “I’m not stupid…just don’t…never learned how to do much.”

Liam came over and put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Spike. I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid.”

Spike had stiffened when Liam touched him and the taller man quickly removed his hand and stepped back. Spike looked up at him, a sad smile of apology on his face.

I wish I knew what happened to him. Sometimes he’s an angry and provocative adult and other times he’s a frightened child. Liam continued, a reassuring smile on his face. “And you’re not stupid by the way. Mrs. Jenkins thinks you’re brilliant and she was a college professor. I know you draw beautifully – at least what you have let me see.”

The younger man blushed. How does he know I don’t show him everything? Did Mrs. Jenkins…

Liam showed Spike how to whisk and then how to whip the egg whites in the mixer. They both laughed when some of the meringue flew out of the bowl and hit Spike’s face. Liam had already wiped some of the tomato mixture from his own chin. The tension was gone and they enjoyed the rest of the day.

Spike woke to a wonderful aroma on Thursday morning. The nightmares were especially violent last night and he felt groggy. He walked out into the kitchen area. Liam was bending over the stove, oven mitts on his hands.

Spike couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “God Liam, you are such a ponce…look like…like…who’s that woman who decorates all those bloody houses?”

Liam glared playfully at him and said in an imperious tone. “I think you mean Martha Stewart. And I am a better cook than she is.”

The men laughed together. Spike ate his breakfast and took out his drawing pad and Liam went out to the workshop for an hour or so. Spike was getting a bit nervous about the dinner. They were all strangers really. Wonder what they really think. Probably think I’m poncin’ about, gonna nab off his stuff and split.

By three o’clock the two men had showered, dressed and put Liam’s contributions into the truck. Mac jumped into the front seat.

“Guess we can’t take Bella.” Spike said.

“No, she doesn’t like the truck and she’s happier sleeping the day away in her house.” Liam answered.

Spike’s stomach was knotting with tension. Hope that sheriff leaves off with the questions.

They arrived at John and Amy’s and walked to the door. Spike carried a bouquet of flowers and the lemon meringue pie; Liam had two bottles of wine in his hands.

John opened the door and they walked inside. “Happy Thanksgiving. Are these for me?” He asked grinning and pointing to the flowers.

“No. They’re for Amy.” Liam replied returning the smile and handing the man the wine.

“You’re gonna make me look bad, Liam. I never buy her flowers.”

“Huh. That means I’ll get the biggest servings of everything.” Liam’s smile broadened and John marveled at the change in the man since Spike came. He was more talkative and outgoing than he had been before the younger man arrived.

Liam noticed John trying to get his attention. “Spike, would you take the pie and the flowers into Amy. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ve got to talk to John about something and go out to the truck for the bruchetta.”

For a second Spike looked apprehensive, but he nodded and left the room. A second later they heard Amy squeal with delight. Liam grinned at John and went outside to his truck. After a few minutes, Amy bustled into the living room. She gave Liam a kiss on the cheek as he came in the door with the tray of appetizers. “They are beautiful! You are so thoughtful.” She said glaring a bit at John.

John turned to Liam. “Told you.”

Mrs. Jenkins and Doc Clayton came in together. Mrs. Jenkins had several loaves of her bread, still warm from the oven; the doctor carried the crock pot of her soup and a large box of chocolates. He winked at Spike. “I’m sure Amy will share with you, Spike.”

Spike flushed and everyone laughed. His chocolate obsession was apparently common knowledge. Bugger. Can’t keep nothin’ secret around here. On the other hand, no one had ever paid any attention to what he liked before, so it felt sort of nice.

John turned the television on and the men all sat down to watch the football game and nosh on Liam’s bruchetta. Spike didn’t really understand American football but he sat next to Mrs. Jenkins and watched. The sheriff came in a little while later; Spike stood up and walked over to the back window and stared out at the falling snow. His back was stiff with tension.

“Liam, this …this bruchetta is delicious. I’ve never had it before. You’ll have to give me your recipe.” Mrs. Jenkins said. “My daughter would love to make it for her parties.”

Liam blushed. “I’ll write it down for you. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

“Turkey’s ready.” Amy called from the kitchen.

They all went into the room and carried the dishes to the table. Spike was amazed at all of the food - turkey, sweet and white potatoes, vegetable platters and warm bread.

“Let’s just take a moment to count our blessings.” Mrs. Jenkins requested.

They all bowed their heads silently for a moment. “Let’s have a toast.” Amy said and they all lifted their glasses. “To Thanksgiving - for bringing us all together. Friendship is something to be treasured.”

There was brief silence and then they all responded. “To Thanksgiving!”

Okay. Let’s eat.” John declared.

For the next hour they ate and talked and laughed. Liam participated in the conversation in his own quiet way. Spike watched his face flush soft pink when Dr. Clayton praised the new rocking chair Liam had made. He is a beautiful man.

Spike listened mostly to Mrs. Jenkins and Amy while the other men analyzed football.

Everyone helped to clear the table and Spike stayed in the kitchen with the women. The contrast between Mrs. Jenkins and Amy and his mother made his heart ache. He knew Amy and John didn't have any children. Kids would’ve been happy in this house…I would have been happy in this house. The sheriff made him nervous, although he had been friendly over dinner. He helped load the dishwasher and put things away until Amy told him he had helped enough; go in with the men.

Spike walked into the living room and stopped. The sheriff and Liam were standing together in a side hallway. They were not talking about woodworking. The sheriff’s shoulders were stiff and he was speaking seriously and animatedly. Liam’s hands were clenched tightly at his sides. He turned his head and saw Spike watching them. He didn’t smile and his face was pale. His brow was furrowed and his eyes had lost the twinkle they had at dinner. Spike stood frozen for a moment and then spun on his heel and walked back into the kitchen. He picked up the trash bags and hurried outside. Mac followed him and ran circles in the snow barking and catching the flakes on his tongue, but Spike didn’t laugh at his antics.

Hot tears slid unbidden down Spike’s cheeks as he stood shivering in the cold. Anger and despair stomped through his mind.

Bloody hell. That sodding sheriff found out, told Liam. He won’t want me around. I have to go. Fuck. Fuck. I thought…I thought maybe…maybe I finally had a home.

Spike brushed the tears away when he heard the back door open.

“Spike, what are you doing out here?” Liam asked, his voice sharp, annoyed.

“Got too hot in there.” The younger man mumbled.

“Everyone’s leaving.” He shouted for Mac. The dog and Spike followed Liam into the living room and they said their good-byes. They were silent on the way home and Mac sensed the tension. He rested his head first on Liam’s shoulder and then on Spike’s.

They entered the cabin in silence.

“I’m really tired Liam. I’ll go to bed, okay?” Even to him, his voice sound pathetic.

Liam spoke softly. “Spike.”

“Bloody hell, Liam. I’m sodding exhausted.” He snarled although the tears brimming in his eyes revealed his sadness.

Liam nodded and Spike turned and walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

Liam sat for a long time with Mac and Bella staring into the fire. The cat had walked over to the door once and scratched and meowed, but Spike didn’t open it. Liam was furious and hurt. He let Spike get into his heart. He was a criminal and a runaway! The sheriff had found him in AFIS. He had been arrested for shoplifting and simple assault. Then there was the street hustling. Liam wasn’t surprised about that, based on Spike’s behavior a few times. He remembered Spike’s provocative behavior a few weeks ago. On his knees… Liam flushed and pushed those dangerous thoughts away quickly. He disappeared before his court appearance. I can’t believe the assault charge. It had to be self-defense. I suspected he’d been abused. That’s probably why. He’s been gentle with Mac and Bella. He’s not…it had to be self-defense. Oh God. I don’t know what to say to him. How can I reach him? Let him know he’s safe here? I want him to stay. God help me. He’s made my life better since he’s been here. But…

Spike stayed awake waiting for Liam to go to bed. He heard Bella scratch at the door, and his heart wrenched. He quietly gathered the clothes that Liam bought him and his sketchpads and put them in a pillowcase. He had seen Liam take money out of a bottom drawer when they were going shopping. He slowly opened the drawer and found the envelope. I’ll pay you back someday Liam, somehow. His hand shook as he emptied out the cash. $300 - Enough to get him to a big city on a bus. Maybe New York. Then…

He forced thoughts from his mind. He’d figure it out. He just had to get away. He couldn’t bear to see Liam’s disappointed face. He didn’t want to know what Liam thought of him. Finally he heard Liam's quiet snores. He opened the door and walked softly toward the door. Mac rushed over to him. He gave the dog the biscuit he had put in his pocket.

“Be quiet boy. Sorry. Gotta go. Take care of Liam, yeah?”

He blinked away his tears and scratched the Labrador’s huge head. He’d miss the big brown dog and especially the huge gray cat, Bella. Bella always sat with him; her purring softened his troubled heart. The cat sauntered over and he almost laughed. She looked pissed. She didn’t wrap herself around his legs. He knelt down and petted her. He buried his face in her soft fur. “Sorry girl. You’re my Bella. I’ll miss you.”

This time he couldn’t stop the tears. He stood up and tiptoed over to the mattress where Liam slept and swallowed the sob in his throat. He couldn’t stop shaking. Liam. I’m sorry. Just rotten I guess. One stray even you couldn’t save. I…I was happy here…I…I…

He brushed the tears from his face and walked quietly to the door. He turned and looked at the simple cabin where he had been happier than he knew was possible. He memorized the room filled with Liam’s beautiful furniture. I’ll never forget you Liam, never. He opened the door and stumbled out into the cold early dawn.

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