She left him on the floor like a broken doll. That's where it started. Xander was a lot of things, but heartless wasn't one of them. Sure, it was in the cards genetically speaking, but there was some little bit of something down in his core that shifted him those two degrees toward the light and kept him from turning into just another Harris asshole.

Seeing Spike on the floor, seeing Buffy put him there - well, it was one of those moments where everything stops and what you thought you were is pulled out of you and what you're going to be is snapped into place, all in the space of a heartbeat. It's rather like being drunk, Xander thought - you know, like if you were a glass of water.

He picked Spike up and placed him on the sarcophagus - not comfy, but available. He found a moderately clean tee shirt and started cleaning away the blood that dappled pale skin, and wondered just what in the hell he was doing.