prodigal



	TITLE: Prodigal AUTHOR: Memnoch E-MAIL: clarkk3nt@aol.com CONTENT: m/m interaction, language, mild violence RATING: PG-13; language, violence SPOILERS: "School Hard"; "Surprise"; "Faith, Hope, and Trick" SUMMARY: Xander's preemptive curiosity leads him to discovering a secret. DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere and everywhere, but please email me before posting. FEEDBACK: This is my first fic in a while, so I'd appreciate any feedback you'd be willing to give! DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Giles, Xander, Cordelia, and Angel aren't mine, 'cause if they were I'd be rich. But I'm not rich. So don't sue me, Joss. This kind of thing wouldn't even have to happen if you'd just put our boys together! * * * "We miss more in one moment than we see in an entire lifetime." - Anonymous * * * The Garden Mansion was at the end of Crawford Street, where the road went from paved blacktop to dirt, continued out into the country, and went for three miles into the neighboring town's mainstreet. On that particular night, Crawford Street was deserted, and the mansion sat, quiet and black, in it's lot. The moon was unusually bright and nearly full, unblemished by a single cloud. Buffy stepped into the main foyer of the courtyard and closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the scent. The familiar scent. Foliage -- vines, trees, and ivy -- climbed up the ancient stone walls all around. Furniture was sparsely placed throughout, and there was dry, blackened embers in the fireplace from a fire long extinguished. She stood and took it all in, possibly for the last time. The duel with Angel. The sudden flash of gold in his eyes and the reemergence of his soul. Acathala opening. She refused to let tears stream down her face again. She'd spent all summer making the wrong choices and suffering for something that she'd finally realized had not been her fault. But still, Angel's tortured, confused face still haunted her mind; that look of total innocence when she plunged the blade through his chest and sent him to eternal damnation. And it had taken her this long -- this long to realize that it was over. Angel wasn't coming back, and it was time to move on with her life and make the most of it. That would have been what he wanted for her. Before she realized it, Buffy was standing in the main room; the wide, open gray area in the center of the mansion that would have served as a ballroom, or perhaps a large living room. An old, rusted chandelier hung lifelessly from the ceiling. To the left were a set of French doors, their glass panes dirty and cracked over the years, that led to the outside conservatory. And here, in the center of the room, was the blank, dead space where Acathala had sat. It was no longer here, taken away by the Council less than a week after she'd left Sunnydale for parts unknown. But she could still feel it's heavy, stone scent. She could still feel the gravitational pull of the vortex as it closed, taking her true love with it. Holding out her left hand, she carefully took off the claddagh ring. She stared at it for a moment, holding it tightly by the thin silver band, gazing at it's features for the last time, locking it firmly in place with her memories. Angel's voice filled her mind: "...my people -- before I was changed -- they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty... and the heart... well, you know. Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody..." She looked around. Was this how it had to end? Not with a scream, but with a quiet whisper? She palmed the ring tightly, not wanting to let go. * * * Xander shivered beneath the thin flannel he was wearing. The October air was disturbingly chilly for Sunnydale, California. He felt guilty, almost unsure, of why he had done this. He kept telling himself that he had followed her because he cared about her; he cared about what happened to her. And, having been back in his life for a mere three weeks, Xander thought maybe he had followed her out of total curiosity of where she spent her time. But he knew this wasn't true at all. The truth was, his entire summer seemed to be estranged; something wasn't right. He had avoided Cordelia in June until she left for vacation with her parents, and then spent a lot of July and August on his own. He'd helped with the Slaying when they needed it, and even jokingly created the persona of "Nighthawk," to Willow's amusement. Who was he kidding? He'd spent the last four months in total agony, because something was painfully missing from his heart. And, try as he might, Xander couldn't fool himself on the matter. He missed him. A lot. Probably more than he should have. He missed Angel coming to the Bronze, mysterious and cryptic, to tell them about the latest plot to end the world. He missed Angel rescuing them from certain death at the hands of demons and vampires. He missed Angel telling him he wasn't looking at his neck. And at the same time he hated what Angel had become. He hated him for killing Jenny, and he hated him for putting his best friends through the worst horror of their lives. Swearing to himself, Xander knew he would kill Angelus if he ever saw him alive. Angel was another story. Angel was not Angelus, rather, the complete antithesis. Angel was warm, tender, and compassionate. He remembered Angel's strong hands, having rescued him many times before the change. So now he stood in the doorway. The French doors were caked with mud from neglect, and the conservatory had become a jungle without anyone to care for it. But he knelt, crouched on the stone surface of the patio, and looked through the glass. Buffy was standing in the center of the room, reflecting. Why had she come here? Why now? But he knew the obvious answer: It was time to say good-bye. She looked over at the doors, but he ducked behind the door frame. Was it in time? He peeked through the glass and realized she hadn't seen him. She was crying. He wanted to cry to, because his heart had been torn for so many months over his secret yearning to be with the man who loved Buffy, and the man who killed Jenny Calendar. Buffy and Angel; flip sides of the same coin, twin incarnations of the same soul, it seemed. Spike once said the world wasn't big enough for the both of them. And now, looking back on Angel's sudden death, it seemed Spike had been right in the end. * * * Buffy knelt carefully, as if not to disturb the serene silence of the mansion. She placed the silver claddagh on the floor; it made a tiny clink and then it was still. Standing, she stared down at it, lying simply on the floor, on the very spot where Angel had left this world with tears in his eyes. "Good-bye," She managed to whisper. She turned, and, not looking back, left the mansion. * * * Xander opened the doors, fairly sure Buffy had gone. Stopping in front of the spot where Buffy had placed her claddagh ring, Xander stared at it. As it all sank in, and he realized he would never see Angel again, tears managed to squirm out of his eyelids. He turned to leave, finally willing to let go of the secret love he'd harbored, but he felt a small rumbling sound in the distance. Initially, he thought it was a thunderclap, but then he remembered how the night had been so crystal clear, without a cloud in sight. He spun around, soon realizing the floor was shaking. The next thought that came to mind was that he was caught in a deserted mansion during an earthquake. His eyes widened in fear as the room began to illuminate, and the rumbling became heavier. Nearly blinded by bright, opaque light, Xander fell backwards onto the floor. Another heavy explosion of energy sent him tumbling back against the wall. His head slammed against the cracked surface and he was knocked into unconsciousness, as the rumbling continued around him. *** Spike, on his inaugural attack on Sunnydale High School, had burst into the school on Parent-Teacher night. Students and adults alike had fled, or were huddled in locked rooms throughout the school. Spike's gang of vampires were ready to party, and feed. Xander had been there. After escaping from the main building, he'd ran out onto the lawn. His head was spinning and he was afraid of losing control of his bladder -- screams and cries of help were resonating from inside the school. Turning, he saw a dead body of one of his former teachers lying on the ground, mauled at the neck by a starved vampire. Someone came up behind him, and he nearly screamed. When he saw it was Angel, he breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly a strange feeling of safety came over him. He trusted Angel, as much as he hated to say it, and felt protected when he was around the strong vampire. He ran a hand through his own black hair and looked up at Angel. "You know a lot about this Spike guy, so... um, you got a plan?" He asked timidly. Almost immediately, Angel's thick, muscular arm was wrapped around his neck and forcing him into a choke-hold. The grip was not too tight, just enough to make it look real. Xander let his eyes wander up to Angel's face as it struck him what the vampire's plan was. He was afraid, but understood completely. And he trusted him. He really did. "Good plan." He coughed out. When Angel took him to Spike, his heart thudded loudly in his chest. His trust faltered; he wasn't sure if what Angel was doing was a ruse anymore. In fact, now he was downright frightened. Scared, he brought one arm up and gripped Angel's wrist, but the vampire shook it off. He almost started crying, and his whimper did not go unnoticed by Angel's ears. Before they went into the hallway where Spike was, Angel had leaned down and tenderly whispered into Xander's ear, "It's all right, this is how we have to do it. But I promise I won't let him hurt you. Ok?" Xander nodded and that was all he had to hear from the vampire to have his trust in Angel fully restored. Angel burst into the dark hallway, greeted by a horde of demons. "Angelus!" Spike called out, startled to see his sire standing before him. He walked towards the vampire and Xander. "Spike!" As Angel neared, they hugged tightly and stepped back, looking each other over. Angel had replaced his normal handsome, soft visage with his demonic game-face. "Well I'll be damned," Spike murmured. He was shaking his head, still unable to believe he was really seeing Angel after all this time. He barely noticed the shivering Xander for the moment, and laughed. Angel licked his lips. "I told you to always guard your perimeter. You should have someone out there." Spike grinned. It was a wide, knowing grin. "I did. I'm surrounded by idiots. What's new with you?" Angel didn't miss a beat. "Everything." Spike inquired, nodding his head. "Come up against this Slayer yet?" "She's cute," Angel began, subtly loosening his grip on Xander to let the boy relax. Although he assured Xander nothing would happen, Angel could still feel the pounding of Xander's heart through his shirt and the cold sweat that had broken out on his skin. He regretted using the innocent boy for such a purpose as bait, but was confident that Xander could handle it. "But not too bright, though," he continued. "Gave her the old 'I'm all tortured' act. Keeps her off my back when I feed." Angel laughed. Without drawing attention to it, he was trying to soothe Xander's nervous shaking by massaging his fingers gently into the boy's neck as he held it. He wanted this to be over quickly, for Xander's sake. "People still fall for that old Anne Rice routine. What a world!" Spike laughed again, heartily, and now turned his attention to Xander, who was squirming, scared. "I knew you were lying!" Xander got out, but was quieted by a firm grip from Angel. The last thing the vampire wanted was for Xander to anger Spike or draw attention to himself. He realized the boy was only trying to help, but also knew saying the wrong thing could set Spike off. "Undead liar guy!" Xander said, and this time, Angel realized he had to get this over with. Xander gasped in fear as Angel ripped the collar of his shirt back, exposing the nape of his neck to Spike. Now he was crying, he could feel the tears rushing down his cheeks. What was Angel doing? But the trust was still there... and although he was afraid, he knew inside that Angel wasn't going to let anything happen to him. "Want a bite before we kill her?" Angel asked his fledgling. Spike considered, obviously starting to suspect something was up. "I haven't seen you in the killing fields for an age." Angel quickly responded. "I'm not much for company." "No, you never were," Spike replied. He eyes Xander's exposed neck over and licked his lips, but then looked back up at Angel. "So, why are you afraid of this Slayer?" "Scared?" Angel paused. "Yeah. Any other time you would've taken her out in a heartbeat. Now look at you. I meant this, uh, tortured thing is an act, right? You're not... housebroken?" Angel realized he could lose this game if he didn't speak quickly and convincingly. Xander continued to shake in his arms and he wanted to get the boy out as fast as possible. "I saw her kill the Master. Hey, you think you can take her alone? Be my guest. I'll just feed and run." He leaned down, and with a roar, bent to Xander's naked throat. But Spike held up his hand. "Don't be silly! We're all friends. We'll do it together. Let's drink to it." And he leaned in, with Angel. Xander finally couldn't stay quiet. He let out a small cry, and clutched Angel's arms. How was this happening? They were so close, he could feel their hot breath on his neck, which was surprising, since Angel once told him vampires didn't have any true breath to speak of. He tried to move, he tried to whimper, and for a split second he felt the prick of someone's canines on the back of his tender skin. And then Spike rose, punching Angel in the face hard. Both the vampire and Xander staggered back, stumbling towards the door. The ruse hadn't worked, and now Spike was enraged. "You think you can fool me?!" Spike nearly screamed. "You were my sire, man! You were my Yoda!" Angel looked over at Xander to make sure the boy was all right. Xander was steady, on his feet, but obviously shaken. Angel stared at Spike. "Things change." "Not us! Not demons! Man, I can't believe this! You Uncle Tom!" Spike grabbed the long iron bar he'd been holding that was now sitting on the floor, and raised it towards them. Commanding the other vampires standing around, he yelled, "Come on, people! This isn't a spectator sport!" Xander was the first to bolt, running through the double doors as fast as his human legs could take him. Angel was right behind him, and when they were confronted with vampires back out on the front lawn, it was Angel who fought for him. Xander tried his best, but against preternatural vampires, it was impossible to hold his own. Angel fought them off, and when Xander fell to his knees, he helped him up. Later that night, when it was all over, they were walking towards the front of the school to catch up with everyone else, and Xander was still pretty wrecked. The teenager stopped and turned to Angel, a look of dead seriousness on his face. "So, when you gave him my neck to chew on, why didn't you clock him before he had a chance to clock you?" Angel paused. If he told Xander the truth, he would probably sound a little too protective when it came to Xander's health. In keeping with his usual bickering with the boy, he chose to make something up that sounded more like something the Angel Xander knew would say. "I told you, I couldn't make the first move. I had to see if he was buying it or not." "And if he bit me, what then?" Xander asked nervously. "We would've known he bought it." Angel said, snickering. But inside, he wanted to say something more. Xander started to say something about Spike being his sire, and Angel almost ignored him, walking away. But at the last moment, he couldn't let things sit the way they did. Angel whirled around and wrapped his arms around Xander, hugging him tightly, taking the boy completely off-guard. Xander tensed up, but didn't pull back. "Xander, I'm sorry. If I had known it would have gone that far, I never would have tried it. The last thing I'd ever want is for you to be hurt. You have to believe that, and trust me." Xander didn't know if Angel would let him or not, but he wrapped his arms around the vampire's back and just nestled his face in the vampire's shoulder. "I trust you." * * * When he opened his eyes, the light had faded. The mansion was thrust into darkness again, and the only noise he could identify was the rustling of the wind coming through the open glass doors. Xander steadied himself and found his footing. He looked around, craning his head slowly and trying to make out any differences in the room. His head ached painfully where the white blast had slammed him against the stone wall; he brought one hand up to his hair to check for bleeding, and to his relief found there was none. Xander's heart missed an entire thump, however, when he continued scanning the room and laid his eyes on the mass on the floor, only a few yards away. His eyes now adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the body of a well built man. The naked form was shivering and covered with sweat. With his back turned to Xander, the body's shoulders trembled up and down quickly in pain; a dull sob came from his voice. Xander edged closer. "A-are... are you all right?" He asked out loud, wondering if he would receive a response. There was none; the man was ferociously shaking, the sweat puddling onto the cold floor, and his small sobs continues unabated, as if he'd never even heard Xander's voice. Xander knelt down and touched the man's bare shoulder lightly. "Are--" The man cried out a pitiful, frightened choke, and was suddenly across the room, huddled in the corner. He held his shoulder where Xander had touched it, and buried his face his arms. Xander wanted to get closer, but he was afraid of scaring the guy again. And then lightning flashed in the sky, it's bright, quick luminescence bursting through the glass doors and igniting the entire room for an instant with white light. Xander backed away a few feet, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes plastered on the face cringed and terrified before him. It was Angel. Angel. Alive, moving, huddled in the corner, whimpering like a child, his entire form shivering and naked. Xander stared, his eyes voids of nothingness, unable to produce an expression of emotion. Finally, the words came, barely audible, slurred together. "Oh... oh God." * Angel looked up at him, cocking his head and pushing his hands out so they were clamped onto the floor. Now on all fours, preparing to pounce, he bared his teeth and snarled viciously. Xander backed away a few feet and tensed his shoulders. "I... I don't know how the fuck you got back here, Angelus, but... but just stay back, man..." He raised one hand in defense, holding out an open palm and keeping his eyes glued to Angel, who continued to gnash his canines and voice a low growl. Before he had a chance to say anything further, Angel was on him, howling like a wild dog, his strong hands pressing into his chest and shoulders. Xander cried out and rolled him over, struggling to fight off the virile vampire. Angel bucked upwards and his knee met Xander's groin; the student choked on air and rolled across the floor. Angel was on him again, staring down into his face. The vampire's eyes were wild and feral, and drool ran over his lips and down his chin. Xander pressed upwards with his fists, but Angel was too heavy and strong. His fingers braced into Angel's large bicep muscles, attempting to pull him off, but nothing could unclamp the insane creature. Finally, Angel backhanded Xander -- his attack was bestial and sloppy -- and flipped him on his stomach. Xander groaned as the dirty, sweaty fingers found his collar and ripped his entire shirt almost off. Changing, Angel's face was now the wrinkled, monstrous facade Xander had only seen a few short times in his life. Still trying to writhe under the heavy weight of Angel's body, Xander could feel the vampire's face leaning in to take a virgin bite of Xander's jugular and sap the blood from his body. Angel's nose brushed down the boy's cheek softly, sniffing his hair and flesh. Xander squeezed his eyes shut, readying himself for the fatal bite, but none came. Angel sniffed his throat gently, and then the weight was gone. Xander rolled over, his shirt in tatters, to see Angel crouched in the corner, his head in his arms, quivering again. He wanted to near the vampire again, to understand what was happening. Why was Angel here? Why had he stopped himself from draining Xander, and why wasn't he speaking? Xander shook his head and ran his hands over his own face. Looking one more time at Angel's body, he fought back the urge to run and came closer. "Angel?" He asked, his voice breaking. The vampire snarled, but made no attempt to hurt Xander again. Xander put his hands out, very slowly, so Angel could see there was no harm intended. When his hands were firmly on Angel's face, the vampire nuzzled against them, his growls low and non-threatening. Xander closed his eyes and threw Angel's head back, slamming it against the stone wall behind them. Angel's eyes widened, but there was not enough time to react. He limply tumbled to the ground, unconscious. "I'm sorry," Xander apologized. As he got up to find some restraints, he passed the glass doors to the conservatory and saw a charred outline of a figure on the floor. He nodded slightly, to himself, realizing this was the blast site where Angel had landed. Landed from where? He wished his head didn't hurt as bad as it did. Continuing past the doors, he found what he was looking for -- Drusilla and Spike's old bedroom. He knew he had to work quick. "Come on," he whispered under his breath, "I know Dru and Spike had to play rough..." He threw open all of Drusilla's old wooden chests and searched through them. He found an assortment of dead rats and century-old clothes, as well as shriveled, dry objects that he later realized may possibly have been body parts. But in the chest with her dolls -- that's where he found them, hiding under Miss Edith and her companions. Two sets of shackles, attached to chains with wall clamps on the ends. He winced at the idea of having to do this to the man who saved his life more than once, but then also remembered this was the same man who'd tried to kill him more than once. By the time Angel awoke, Xander was finished chaining him to the wall. The vampire was just as disoriented as before, and struggled vigorously against his restraints. His snarls turned into near-screams as he pulled and pulled, only to tired himself. Angel fell to his knees, his arms suspended above his body by the chains. Xander felt upset, and he didn't know why. Angel's incoherent cries turned into soft sobs. Finally, when the vampire had calmed down, Xander picked up the clean, thick wool blanket he'd found in one of the trunks and wrapped it around Angel, protecting his naked body from the cold dampness of the mansion. He lifted Angel's head carefully and looked into his eyes, forcing a smile. "Can you understand me?" Angel simply stared, his eyes full of astonishment and confusion. He did not speak, and didn't even try to produce words. However, Xander saw that tears were starting to stream down the vampire's face. He lifted his own shirt to wipe away Angel's tears, all the while still unbelieving that this was happening. "Hey... I don't know if you can understand what I'm saying, but I'll be back, all right? I promise." At Angel's fearful look, Xander pulled the blanket up as far as he could, then stood and unfastened the shackles. The vampire let his arms fall to his side and then shrank into the corner. Xander pulled the blanket up the rest of the way, and then hesitantly left the mansion. * Giles was sitting in his office reading papers and sipping delicately from a coffee mug when Xander walked in quietly. Giles looked up at him and placed his paper on his desk. "Good morning Xander, is something wrong?" He asked, immediately sensing something wasn't right with the tense speed of Xander's entrance into the library. Xander started to say something, and then looked away, staring at the bookshelf, and then the book return cage, and then back to Giles. Finally, he laid his arms in his lap. "I don't know how to really say this..." He paused, considering. Giles was looking him over carefully. "Giles, I had a nightmare last night. Really bad." There came no response from the librarian, so he continued. "I dreamt Angel came back, and he was killing everyone again... and--" "Xander," Giles interrupted. "It's ok. It's perfectly normal to fear something like that. Angelus' reign of terror has traumatized us all for a long time to come. But he can't come back, it's impossible. I've never heard of anyone returning from the demon dimension, human or otherwise." "Yeah..." Xander agreed, lowering his head. "Which makes it even more tragic." "What?" Xander asked, curious. Giles took another sip of his coffee and removed his glasses. "Buffy told me that before Acathala closed with Angel in it, Willow's restoration spell worked. His soul was returned to him seconds before the vortex closed." "Oh, God." Xander mumbled, bringing a hand over his mouth. The previous night's events flooded his mind and he realized now why Angel had been acting the way he had been. He was no longer evil; he was acting like a man, a good man, who had been tortured relentlessly for hundreds of years. "What if... it happened?" Xander asked. "What if Angel made it back to Earth. What would he be like?" Giles put his glasses back on. "It's hard to say, but because time moves so varyingly from our ideas of time, he would have been there for hundreds of years. Hundreds of years of unending torture and pain. It would take a man of strong will to be able to come back, physically and mentally, from such an experience." Xander stared at the wall, expressionless. * * * The mansion was the same as it had been the previous night -- bleak, cold, dark. Xander shivered as he entered, the hard, heavy door closing behind him and shutting out the moonlight from the gutted insides of the house. He quietly crept across the main foyer and turned into the far room; the room leading to the atrium. The room where Angel had been lying when he left. And Angel was still lying there, on his side, the blanket half-pulled over his body, one arm under his head to protect from the cold floor. Xander suddenly felt a pang of tightness in his stomach -- a fear, a sadness, and a compassion for the older man lying broken and shameful on the floor. All the hatred, all the bitterness he felt for this inhuman creature melted away slowly, exposing a deep understanding and caring for this vampire. And although Angel could not be called human in body, his soul, now Xander could see, held more humanity than he had ever let himself see. He was ashamed for his past deeds, all the jealousy and anger he'd directed towards Angel. Tenderly, he leaned over, bending down and placing his hand along the soft contours of Angel's moist, sweat-covered face. Immediately, Angel winced and stared up at him, backing away a few feet. When he recognized Xander's face from the previous night, he froze, and stared pleasantly at him. Xander slowly set down the two full bags of blood he took from the veterinary clinic less than a mile from the mansion. Angel sniffed at them and then picked one up curiously in his hand, feeling it's warmth. "It's ok," Xander motioned politely. "Please, I brought them for you." Angel looked at him with his big, deep-set eyes and smiled for the first time since he'd returned to this world. Xander stood up and Angel saw a duffel bag sitting in the corner of the room. At Angel's glance, Xander nodded. "I am spending the night. I want to make sure you're going to be all right. I haven't told the others about your... return. I don't know how anyone would take it, especially Giles." Angel looked away at the mention of the Watcher's name. Xander's eyes widened slightly. "Do you understand me?" The vampire nodded his head and opened one of the blood bags slowly, swallowing it's contents slowly and peculiarly. Xander opened his duffel bag and pulled out a black shirt and black jeans, a pair of boxer shorts, a pair of socks, and a pair of black shoes. Every article of clothing was brand new, and he began to pull the price-tags off and set each one in front of Angel. "I bought these for you; spent just about all my allowance for the past eight years, but I figure it's going towards a good cause. I, um... I hope I picked the right sizes. I guessed." Angel smiled and lifted his hand, running it down Xander's cheek. He then touched the pile of new, clean clothes before him. Xander pulled out a thin blanket from the duffel bag and laid it on the floor. As Angel watched, the boy laid down on his side and closed his eyes. Once he opened then to tell Angel if he needed anything during the night, he just had to wake him with a shake. Then, he was fast asleep, his body resting tiredly on the damp floor of the mansion. After Xander had been asleep for a long time, Angel wrapped himself in the blanket he'd been given and edged closer to Xander. Careful not to disturb his newfound friend, Angel laid behind him, pressing his chest against the boy's warm back, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders to touch the living chest, with the beating heart beneath. With his arms firmly embracing Xander, his hand safely against his breast and feeling the steady beat of the mortal's heart, he himself drifted into a peaceful sleep. * * * He awoke at dawn, and had enough time to go back to the veterinary clinic and get two more bags of blood to take to Angel. After dropping them off and watching the vampire sleep for a few moments, he quietly left, still filled with questions. How did Angel get back here and why was he in this condition? There were so many things he wanted to ask Angel, if the vampire ever regained his senses. School proved no help; he spent the entire day letting his mind wander off to think of the possible answers to his questions. He thought of Angel every minute and hoped he was all right. Never once did the thought cross his mind that he should tell the others -- no, he knew what that would lead to. Giles would definitely not take it well, and he was afraid of what this could mean for everyone else, especially Buffy. If Buffy and Angel were reunited, then... Then what? He thought for a moment and wondered why he was so adamant on keeping the star-crossed lovers apart. One idea came into his mind, and he was sure that it may have been the reason: jealousy. But just which person was he jealous of, the Slayer, or the vampire? * * * That evening, he came in through the back, because the front door had been locked. Believing he must've accidentally locked it on the way out the previous morning, Xander simply walked up the stairs from the atrium and into the foyer. Slung around his shoulder was his book bag, holding within another set of clothes and some books from the library. Remembering that Angel enjoyed reading, he'd brought them with the hope that Angel was still literate. Entering the main hall, he looked around. The ballroom was empty, as was the conservatory. Placing his book bag down, he went into the bedroom. There was no sign of anyone. His heart beat quickly as Xander realized that Angel may have left, or been found by other vampires, or worse yet, Buffy. "Xander." He turned suddenly, and his eyes met with Angel's. The vampire was dressed in the clothes Xander had bought, and they appeared to fit nicely. Angel had bathed and was clean, as if the past few nights' events hadn't even occurred. Upon hearing his name, his mouth nearly fell open. "A... Angel?" The vampire smiled softly and nodded. "Yeah." He looked down at himself, acknowledging the clothes. "Thanks for these." "Hey... it's no problem." Xander was still in shock; his head was still calming down. "You're talking..." Another nod from the older man. He walked past Xander and sat down on Drusilla's old bed. Behind him were scattered the extravagant pile of dolls lying over the comforter. He picked one up and looked at it, fumbling with it in his hands, before finally looking back up at the boy. "I can't really explain everything that's happened. I don't know why I was brought back. But I know that things would have turned out much worse if you hadn't helped me through these first few nights." Xander forced a smile, all of a sudden very uneasy. "I-I... I didn't tell them. You know, the group. I thought I should wait to see if you, y'know..." "I know," Angel responded as Xander's voice faded. A long moment of silence followed, and Angel's voice was what cut through the communication blockade. His eyes searched Xander's. "I know you probably hate me for Ms. Calendar's death, and for everything else I did after I changed. So... for you to help me like this, bring me these things, watch me... it was really--" "I hated you," Xander cut him off. "I hated you more than anything. Buffy ran away after she thought she killed you." And, at Angel's sudden look, Xander continued, "but she's back now. But when Buffy told us only a couple weeks ago that you were dead, I suddenly realized that... that I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you." Xander walked over and sat down on the bed next to Angel, making room for himself by brushing the pile of dolls back. Angel followed him with his eyes until they were sitting next to each other. "It all became clear after she told us you were dead," Xander explained softly. "I realized that Angel and Angelus were... are two completely different people, they just happen to share a body. You shouldn't be held responsible for what he did. And as much as I hate him, I don't hate you. You shouldn't have been punished for it..." Angel absorbed this, and then reached out and put his hand over Xander's. "Thank you, Xander. Coming from you, that means a lot. That means a whole lot." He nearly started to cry, and almost had to cover his face with one hand to prevent Angel from seeing his emotion. But he managed to hold back the tears, and stood quickly. "Angel, I, um, I have to go." "All right." Angel saw the look of intense sadness on Xander's face, and grabbed his arm lightly, holding him back. "Are you ok?" Xander kept his eyes on the floor. "I'm fine. Just a little shaken up with all of this, you know. You, and everything, and..." He didn't know where his sentence was going, and the words disintegrated in his mouth before he could speak them. Angel let go of his arm and the two stood there for a couple more awkward minutes of silence. "If you're sure..." Angel began. "I'm sure." Xander finished. The two men now shared reciprocated looks, gazing into each other's eyes. "I have to leave, I'm sorry. Are you going to be ok until tomorrow night?" "You don't have to come back, I can get around now. But thank you for doing all of this." Angel said carefully, studying Xander. He especially noted the expression of hurt that appeared in the boy's eyes when he told him that he wouldn't have to return anymore. Xander had picked up his book bag from the main entrance and was now in the doorway to the atrium. "Yeah. I hope everything works out, with Buffy and all." Xander wished him luck, and after another longing glance at Angel, he left. Angel stood still for a while, the wheels in his mind slowly sorting out the events that had transpired. What mattered now was that he was on Earth, back in Sunnydale, and he could pick up the pieces of his life. Instead of going back to sleep, and facing the nightmares he had continually, Angel decided to begin the reconstruction of his existence on that very evening. * * * Xander received the phone call about three in the morning. He swam out of sleep, his mind muddled and confused, his hand scurrying through the darkness for the phone. When he finally picked it up, the greeting came out slurred and somnabulatory. "Hu...hello?" "Xander," Cordelia's voice said excitedly, "you won't believe this!" "Cord..." He began, turning on the light next to his bed and running a hand over his naked chest. "Cord, it's three fifteen. A.M. As in, the middle of the night. Are you forming a picture here?" "Angel's back! Giles is flipping out and Buffy of course is all angsty and--" "I know." Xander replied, clearing his throat. "Willow called me earlier this evening. And I really don't care, Cordelia. So what, Angel's back. Big whoop." He said sarcastically, right before slamming down the phone on the base. Turning over, he turned the light off and laid down. He couldn't go to sleep now, after taking so long to get to sleep before. Everything was flooding his mind and making his stomach hurt. His heart thudded. What was he going to do? Three days ago he'd been so sure life was just getting back to normal, and now all of this was happening. As with Angel's return, now he had this sudden suspicion in the back of his mind that something wasn't right with his own emotions. He felt himself thinking of Angel too much, worrying about the vampire a little too often, and feeling overly jealous of Angel's relationship to Buffy. He closed his eyes as he began to realize the truth about himself. This time, the tears did come. And they kept coming until the sun was breaking in the morning sky. * * * The mansion wasn't the same when he entered this time. A few lights were on, and an illuminating fire was flickering in the fireplace. Angel was sitting near it, relaxed in a loose chocolate-colored sweater and black jeans. He was barefoot and his hair was mildly unkempt. In his hands held a small book; it was one of the books Xander had brought for him from the library. Angel looked up with a pleasant expression when he saw Xander enter the room hesitantly. "Hi..." Xander spoke with nervousness. Angel stood, placing the book face down on the mantle and walked towards Xander. He was startled when Xander cowered away a few feet, flinching as Angel neared him. The vampire stopped walking and backed away. "Xander... you're not afraid of me, are you? After everything you've done for me, you think I would harm--" "No," Xander said. "But I'm afraid you're going to be angry at what I have to say. I've done a lot of thinking, and a lot of personal soul- searching, and I've discovered some things about myself." "Is this why you came back?" "Yes. Well, and to see if you were ok." Xander paused, then realized Angel was going to let him get it all out. He took a deep breath. "I think I'm gay, Angel. I've been so physically attached to girls that I never gave thought to what gave me feelings... what made me happy. I think my father imprinted this idea in my head that I had to be this womanizer, always lusting after girls and making snide perverted jokes. But... you came back and everything I thought about you turned to shit. I'm gay and I have feelings for you." Angel was silent. Finally, he looked down and then back at Xander. He had obviously not expected something like this to happen. "Xander... I love you," he began, "but I don't 'love' you. Not like that. You've done so much for me, and I consider you to be one of my only true friends in this world. And I'll continue to be your friend, because I owe you my life." "But you don't love me." Angel smiled softly, then edged closer to the boy. "I'm not gay, Xander. Don't get me wrong, in my 242 years, I've tried it, but it's not for me." Xander chuckled, suddenly feeling a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. "It's ok. I thought you'd be mad." "No, no way." Angel's grin was now wide and he shook his head. "You couldn't make me angry. I've always felt protective of you. I don't know, I always thought we were adversaries for Buffy's affection, and now... now I feel like I could trust you with anything." "You can, Angel," Xander murmured. "I really do love you." He leaned forward and hugged Angel tightly. Angel apprehensively put his arms around the boy, and although he didn't think he squeezed too tight, his hands must have pressed too hard into Xander's back, because the boy recoiled, suddenly very tense. He winced and put one hand over a place on his lower back. "I have to go." Xander had been stuttering. Angel felt something was horribly wrong. "Xander, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's ok, I--" "No," Xander nearly yelled. "I really just have to leave. I understand, I'm not angry, or upset, I just have to--" "What's wrong with your back?" Angel asked, concerned. Xander ignored him and continued walking towards the large doors. Angel caught up with him easily and took hold of his arm. "Xander--" "Don't touch me, Angel!" He cried out, but not before Angel lifted his shirt and found mound of purple-blue flesh on his back. Pulling Xander's shirt up further, he saw a series of the bruises, varies in size and seriousness. Xander violently pulled back, leaning against the door frame. "I told you to fuck off!" "Xander..." Angel's voice was quiet, upset. "Who did this to you?" "I'll see you later, Angel. Take care of yourself. I'm glad I could help you." Xander shoved the door open. Angel followed him onto the front steps, where he stopped him again. "Xander, if your parents--" "It's none of your God-damned business, Dead-boy. Go back to Buffy, and fighting evil, and saving the world. What's one teenager in the grand scheme of things, right?" He pulled back, and this time it was enough to get away from Angel's grip. He turned and ran down the street, holding one hands to his face. Angel guessed he'd started to cry as he ran off, and he decided to let the boy be by himself, for now. Xander's final words resonated in his mind and Angel nearly felt himself cry for the first time in a long time. The boy had just spilled out his heart to him, after spending the week giving Angel a second chance at life. Xander was in love with him, and not all was right with this boy's life. He thought of the bruises. Angel kept hearing Xander saying those words to him, and he stared off into the distance, as Xander disappeared down the street. "Everything," Angel whispered to the cold night air.