TITLE: Until It Sleeps

AUTHOR: Kylia

DISCLAIMER: Nobody belongs to me, unfortunately. Joss owns all.

RATING: R

SPOILERS: The Pack, General Season 4 BtVS & Season 1 AtS. Some mention of "Revelations"

CATEGORY: Angel/Xander; Willow/Spike

SUMMARY: An attack with a demon releases something within Xander

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had the first 4 parts of this written before the comp crashed, so hopefully it turned out okay the second time around. Secondly, this story has been brewing around in my head for awhile and my hospital stay sort of brought out my dark mood.

DISTRIBUTION: Fire & Ice Fic, anyone who already has my insanity, List archives, anyone else, ask and it's yours.

DEDICATION: To Liz, who's been waiting patiently for this. And to everyone who sent me warm wishes. :)

UNTIL IT SLEEPS

By Kylia

Buffy handed out weapons to the remaining Scooby gang members. Frowning at Spike, she handed him a dagger. She turned to Willow and Xander. "Why is Fangless here again?"

Xander groaned. It was the third time she'd asked in ten minutes. His patience was wearing thin. "I told you, Buff," He began trying to sound as goofy as usual. "When Will came looking for me, she found me at Spike's. The Big Bad here had a sudden desire to move his furniture around."

He took the taser gun Buffy offered him and walked away. After getting about a yard away he stopped and waited for Spike and Willow to follow. He figured it would be another five minutes at least while Buffy asked some more pointless questions. It's not as if she actually cared what it was any of them did in their spare time.

Buffy watched him walk away and turned back to Spike. "You stay out of trouble or."

"Or you'll what, Slayer? Stake me? That's getting a bit old, isn't it?" Spike snarled.

He was getting really tired of her threats. It was always the same. He wouldn't even be here if Willow and Xander hadn't been told to come and help with patrol. There was some sort of demon running around town. No one even knew what kind of demon it was, or if it was even dangerous. Did the Slayer care? No, she insisted that her two best friends grab a weapon and help with the patrol, so she and her pup could be done sooner.

"We'll be fine." Willow smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way as she grabbed the crossbow Buffy offered her. Since being forced to use it the month before, the witch had become quite adept at hitting a target with one of its arrows.

"Come on, Xander's waiting." Willow dragged Spike away in the direction Xander at walked. She took a look behind her briefly and was pleased to see Buffy had disappeared already.

When they reached the tree Xander was leaning against, Willow smiled. "Hey Xan, ready?"

Xander looked up and smiled and then looked back at his weapon and frowned. "Why do I always get stuck with the rifle? Do I look like Initiative material to you?" He asked as he straightened up and started walking in the direction they thought they might find the demon.

Spike snorted. "Not Bloody Likely!" He walked past the two mortals and kept his eyes and ears peeled for trouble.

Xander rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"It's because of that soldier business that one Halloween, and then the thing with the grenade launcher." Willow explained as she followed Spike, leaving Xander to take up the rear.

"Is that all she remembers?" Xander whined. "I have helped other times." He stopped, waiting for someone to comment, when no one did, he realized that he was right. That's all anyone remembered.

"I've helped lots of times." He said indignantly as he followed his companions through the darkness. "I helped Deadboy save her life when the Master killed her. I helped her save everyone from those wiggy eggs. I stood guard outside of her hospital room when Deadboy was psycho, and I helped her save Giles so she could stop Angelus from sending the world to Hell, at risk to my own life, I might add."

Spike laughed.

"What?" Xander glared.

"You're life was hardly at risk from Peaches. Although I think if he had known what you were going to do, he may have chained you to his bed, and punished you." He paused. "Maybe *that* was why you did it." He smirked.

Xander remained silent for a moment, scowling. When he finally spoke, his voice had taken on a more serious note. "It wasn't like that, and you know it. We weren't. anything then. Kind of like now."

Spike had heard the strange tone of his voice at the last whispered bit and stopped and turned to the mortal. "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean Angelus wanted you dead." He left the rest of his sentence unsaid knowing that Xander knew all about what Angelus had wanted.

Xander shrugged. "Doesn't matter. What's done is done."

The three walked in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts, before Xander spoke again, remembering what it was he was talking about before they got side tracked.

"What about the time I went undercover with the swim team?" He asked. "And after she took off, we all helped with patrols? And what about when those she-demon's tried to open the Hellmouth? I stopped the school from blowing up."

"Xander, that's not fair, you never told her about that." Willow reminded him softly.

"Well, if you're going to use logic." Xander groaned playfully. "But what about the fight with the Mayor? Who was 'Key Guy'? That was me, if you recall."

Willow nodded. "I know. But you know how she is."

"An annoying self-center bitch?" Spike offered helpfully. Xander grinned and Willow giggled.

Spike stopped when he heard something.

"Over there." Willow pointed and started to move off in the direction she had heard the noise come from.

"Wait for me." Spike warned as he chased after her.

Xander was about to follow when he heard a noise off to his right. He turned and looked into the darkness. He couldn't see anything. It was pitch black and the trees seemed to cover everything. He paused, listening. It seemed as if everything that stopped. The trees weren't even moving with the breeze. Taking a step into the darkness, Xander moved cautiously into the bushes.

He hadn't gotten very far when he felt something push him from behind. He stumbled and landing with a smack up against the bark of a tree. He heard something crack and felt the unmistakable pain, telling him he broke something. His back hurt, from the force of the blow. His head was killing him, and his mind was suddenly very hazy.

Xander felt his attacker lift him up from behind. He was pressing him harder into the tree as he ran a hand over his backside as he sniffed him.

"You smell of death." His attacker whispered into Xander's ear just as the boy lost consciousness.

****

Willow watched in fascination and mild horror as Spike took great pleasure in his attack on one of the demons. She watched as he finally broke its neck, letting the body fall to the floor.

It wasn't until Spike turned to her, a look of pure lust in his golden eyes that she remembered they weren't alone. When she turned to see Xander, she noticed he wasn't behind her, like she had thought.

"Xander?" She called out, looking around frantically.

Spike looked around, searching the darkness with his enhanced vision. When he couldn't see him, he sniffed the air. "This way." He nodded his head in the direction they had come.

The couple went in search for their friend, the dead demon forgotten. Spike sniffed the air once more, and pushed his way through a group of trees. When Willow had made her way through the bushed near the trees, she froze.

Xander was pushed against this tree, being held up by a demon, like the one Spike had killed. He was apparently unconscious, because his eyes were closed as his head was slanted at an unnatural angle, resting against the bark.

The demon turned around to face them. "This one. He smells of death." He turned to eye Spike curiously. "Is he yours?" He shook his head as he inhaled Spike's scent. "No, not yours. but close.." He turned back to Xander. "His soul is dark. But," he turned back to Spike. "It hasn't always been that way. He hides it well. The evil. it lies dormant. Soon though. The evil within will break free. then you all shall see." The demon cackled as a cloud of smoke enveloped them.

When the smoke disappeared, the demon was gone, leaving Xander lying on the ground, his head up against the tree's trunk, one arm twisted unnaturally, and his left knee popped out of place. He groaned as he tried to regain consciousness.

"Xander, are you alright?" Willow ran to him and tried to turn him over.

He took a deep ragged breath as the pain overtook him. He felt something inside him recognize the pain for what it was. "I broke something. several something's."

"Here." Spike picked Xander up off of the ground and started walking through the trees. "We'll take you to the hospital."

Xander was in too much pain to protest. Willow nodded, her mind going over everything the demon had said. She didn't understand anything. It's words made no sense to her. Shaking her head from all the questions she followed the vampire, wanted to make sure her best friend was okay.

*****

Several hours later, Spike watched Willow pace around Xander's hospital room, while her friend was getting more x-rays taken. He had several broken bones, and his nose was severely bruised.

"Luv, he'll be fine." Spike tried to calm her down.

Willow sighed as she walked over the vampire. He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. "Nothing to worry about." He said as he nuzzled her neck.

Willow giggled at the slightly ticklish sensation. "I know, but what about that demon. We still don't know why it attacked Xander."

Spike pulled his mouth away and rested his chin on her head. "I know. It said he smelled of death."

"Angel?" Willow asked softly.

"What about Angel?" Buffy asked as she entered the room.

Willow jumped off of Spike's lap. "Angel? What? No, we were talking about Angels. You know, for Xander's Christmas tree."

Buffy looked at Willow strangely. "Will, its August."

Willow laughed nervously. "I know, but you can never be too early, right? You know how he loves the holidays. well when he isn't at home anyway." She mumbled the last part.

Buffy didn't seem to notice. She turned an accusing eye to Spike. "What happened?"

*****

Willow sat in her bedroom at her parent's house staring at the phone. After telling Buffy an edited version of what had happened with Xander and the demon, Spike had brought her here instead of to her dorm. She wasn't looking forward to the phone call she had to make and she didn't want to risk Buffy walking in. She also knew she had to make the call. It was only right. He should know what had happened. But she wasn't sure how he would react.

So much of their relationship was a gray area. So much fell into the area of 'we don't discuss it'. Willow didn't know how Xander saw things. She didn't know how he felt, but she did know that things weren't as black and white as he made them out to be.

Shaking off her concerns, she picked up the receiver and started dialing the familiar number.

After several rings, the line was picked up. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless."

Willow sighed when she recognized the voice. "Angel? It's Willow."

"Willow? Is something wrong? Did. something happen?" Angel asked, a slight trace of concern etching his voice. It wasn't so much that he was surprised to hear from her, but her voice sounded odd.

"Sort of." Willow sighed as she stood up. "We had a run in with a demon. Everything's fine. But Spike and I. We thought you should know."

Angel read between the lines. "Xander was hurt?" He asked as calmly as he could.

"He's fine, Angel. A few broken bones, but nothing permanent." Willow reassured him.

"Does he know your calling?" When Willow didn't answer he sighed needlessly. "He doesn't, does he?"

"He's. He's. He'll come around." Willow told him.

"Thanks for calling." Angel replied, not wanting to discuss the nightmare relationship he had with Xander. He hung up the phone before she could reassure him any further.

After sitting in his office for several long seconds, Angel picked the phone back up and dialed information. Several minutes later, he dialed the number to the hospital.

After two transfers, and three rings, Xander answered the phone in his room. "Hello?"

"Xander?" Angel asked, his voice sounding as neutral as always.

"Deadboy." Xander sighed. "Willow called." It was a statement.

"You're all right?" Angel asked.

"Fine. No need to worry." There was a tense silence.

"Okay, that's good." Angel finally spoke.

"Yeah." Xander was about to hang up when he paused. "I'll see you Friday. Don't be late." He hung up the phone, not waiting for Angel's response.

*****

Xander stared at the phone for a long minute, almost daring for it to ring again. He half expected Angel to call back. He almost wanted him to. Because then, if he did, it would mean he had something else to say. Something, anything that would show that he cared about more than making sure their 'date' was still on.

Xander tried to remember when his life had gotten so out of control. He knew it was his fault. He had started this madness. If he had stayed away that night, nearly two years ago, maybe they wouldn't be where they were now. Maybe things would be different. Maybe, just maybe they'd be happy. Maybe they wouldn't even speak. Maybe they would hate each other. Maybe they would love each other. He didn't know. But anything would be better than the nightmare they were living now. If only he could change things. If only he wanted to.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the night it all started.

Xander's POV

My body trembled with unrestrained rage as I stormed down the street. I knew where I was going, and I knew why. He filled my thoughts, as he had for countless months. Everything he had done. Everything he was. It frightened me. But not because of who he was, or what he could have done to me, but because of how he made me feel.

The feelings he brought out in me were fierce. Unlike anything I had ever experienced. The anger, the hate. I wanted to hate him for what he was. What he had done. Who he had killed. But I couldn't. I found myself hating him more for his inability to be those things. I found myself detesting his weakness. I found myself wanting to break his control until he couldn't deny what he was. I wanted to scream at him until his demon was there, with me. Sharing the same space.

I wanted to show Buffy that he wasn't whom she thought. He wasn't the weak puppy she had made him out to be. He wasn't what she wanted. What she thought she needed.

But my desire to show this to her had nothing to do with my jealousy over her relationship with him. It was because of my understanding of what he was, and the knowledge that she could never understand the rage, which I knew, boiled just under the surface.

I could feel it. That very night I had felt it. It didn't matter that he had spent centuries in Hell, with his soul. It didn't matter that he felt the weight of his guilt. The rage was still there. It always would be. That's not to say that he was still Angelus. Be cause he wasn't. And I knew that. I knew that the man I had seen kissing Buffy that night, was not the one who had killed Miss Calendar.

It didn't matter. My hate was fierce. And it was only deepened when I saw him kissing Buffy. My friend, the Slayer. Someone who had lied to us to save this creature. Someone who had run away from her duty when she couldn't face what she had done to him. Someone who would betray us all if he asked it.

Even as the thoughts rolled through my brain, some part of me knew it wasn't necessarily accurate, but I didn't care. My pain, my anger, they ran too deep at that moment.

When I reached the mansion, I stormed in, not caring that I should knock. Not caring that he could be sleeping, or whatever it was he did in his time alone. He was standing in front of the fire, staring into it, seemingly searching for answers.

When I entered he turned around and stared at me. He didn't seem surprised to see me. I expected him to tell me to leave, or at least ask why I was there. Instead, when his mouth opened, only one word was uttered. My name.

"Xander."

He looked calm, completely relaxed, and that unnerved me. I wanted him to be as angry as I.

"You're weak." I spat. "You should have stayed in Hell."

"I know." The accepting way in which he spoke the words angered me further.

"Do you?" I hissed as I stalked towards him. I didn't really know what I was doing, or what I had hoped to accomplish. I only knew that I was angry, and he was the source of my rage. He was the reason I had come. He was the one who ignited the fire that burned, and only he could douse it. I had no conscious knowledge of just what that meant, or how my actions would effect me.

Some part of me was aware that he could easily kill me. I could die tonight. But, I didn't care. In fact, I almost hoped he resisted. It would be a worthwhile way to die, I decided.

When I reached him, he remained completely still as I pushed him against the cold stone wall. I looked into his eyes and they were clouded with something I couldn't decipher. But more importantly, I didn't want to.

I claimed his lips in a fierce kiss, pouring all of my anger and pain into this one act. At some place, in the far corners of my mind, I knew that I would regret this. Later, I would be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. But at this moment, it didn't matter. All that mattered was him.

His cool lips pressed against mine. The lips that were accepting the way I was attacking his mouth with a flourish. I ripped the shirt right off his body, eager to feel the cool flesh underneath my fingertips. I could feel him tremble slightly as I continued to relieve him of his clothing.

By the time I came up for air, he was standing before me completely naked. It then occurred to me, I was over dressed. As I removed my own clothing I never once stopped to wonder what it was I was doing or why. I never stopped to think that this was another man I was attacking. And not just another man, but a vampire. Buffy's vampire. I didn't care.

When I looked up after divesting myself of my clothes, I stared into his eyes for the first time since before I had kissed him. I could see the golden flecks in his chocolate eyes, and I realized that his control was slipping. The idea that he could lose it at any moment and tear me apart excited me. I wanted him to lose his control. I wanted to be the one who made him lose it.

I kissed him again, licking his lips and sucking the bottom one into my mouth. I bit him then. Hard. I could taste his blood in my mouth. It tasted different than my own blood. Different, but not in a bad way.

I heard him growl as I continued to suck on the small wound. A wound I knew would be healed before I even removed my lips. I had the sudden desire to mark him. Mar his perfect skin. Something that would show him that for this one night, I had control, and he had given it to me.

I stepped away from him and relished in the growl that erupted from his chest. I grinned at him, taking pleasure in his reaction. I stepped further back and watched, as his eyes seemed to glow. I wondered what it was he thought I was doing. Did he know what would happen next? Did he care?

I grabbed him in a swift movement. I was not even aware I could move that quickly. I threw him onto the ground and smiled as his bare skin hit the floor. I picked up an ornate dagger that hung above the fireplace mantle and ran the blade over my fingers. I wanted to know what it felt like to pierce his perfect skin with the blade. I wanted to see the blood well up and drip down his chest. It didn't matter that the wounds would heal. That was inconsequential. The mark would have been made. I would know it, and so would he.

I straddled him, my erection rubbing fiercely against his. I wanted him. He wanted me. I knew that. But more than that, I wanted him to bring me to the edge as I caused him to lose his fragile hold on his control. I wanted him to want to lose control.

I pinned his arms above his head, my nipples rubbing against his chest. As my fingers wrapped around his wrists, I brought my lips to his ear. I traced the contours of his ear with my tongue, before trailing down his throat to wear his pulse point would have been.

"I can feel you." I whispered into his ear. "Just below the surface, you rage. You are not so different now, are you?"

He didn't answer me. Merely lay there, awaiting what I would do next. I sat up and traced his chest with the tip of the blade. On my third pass down the center of his chest, I applied a bit more pressure, cause the skin to break in a slanted mark from left to right. He moved ever so slightly under me, causing more friction among our joined members.

He hissed as I licked the trail of blood that was started to dribble down his chest.

"You like that?" I asked huskily as the blade made anther cut, also diagonal, this time from right to left, over the first.

I continued to mark his flesh absently, enjoying the groans and grunts escaping him more than the marking itself. It wasn't until I looked at the damage I had done that I noticed the first two cuts, which were now starting to heal, appeared to form an 'X'. I found that ironic, considering I had no desire to mark him with my initial. It just seemed to happen that way. Almost like fate. If such a thing existed.

As he thrust up against me once more, I remembered my own painfully hard erection and decided it was time to remedy that situation. I lifted my body slightly. Not much, just enough to flip him over so that he was no facing the floor.

I reached one arm around and rubbed my fingers in his blood before pinching his nipple. He hissed at me again as I thrust into him. I had never done this before but I didn't seem to be doing it wrong if his grunts and groans were any indication.

I moved my bloody fingers from his nipple to his own hard shaft and began to work him in time to my own thrusts. The night's events had aroused me to such a state that it didn't take long for me to reach my orgasm. I bit into his shoulder harshly as I came. The shock of the bite must have pushed him over the edge, because he came then, shooting off into my hand, and no doubt on his nice hardwood floor.

I collapsed on top of him in complete exhaustion. I knew I should remove myself from his body and get the fuck out of there before we both regained our senses, but I couldn't bring myself to move.

As I drifted off to sleep I wondered what would happen now. Would it change everything, and if it did, would I care?

****

Xander opened his eyes as he leaned back into the hospital bed. Things had gotten so far out of control that night. But not as far as they could have. Xander's rage had been sated that night. But the calm, which had settled over him the next day, would only last for so long. Soon, the anger, brought out by his family, his life, would bubble forth once again.

When he had woken up, still sheathed in the vampire's body, Xander expected to feel ashamed. He expected to want to run away and hide. Block out the memory of the night.

But that didn't happen. He didn't feel shame for what he had done, what they had done. He wasn't sorry. Not for the anger he had felt, or for the way he had treated Angel.

Even now, nearly two years later, Xander couldn't feel sorry for what happened. In some ways he wished he had stayed away that night. It had led to the mockery of a relationship they had now. But at the same time, he didn't want to lose what they had. He didn't want to lose him. And so, he continued to live the lie, praying that Angel wouldn't realize the truth. That things had changed.

****

Angel hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair wondering when things had gotten so out of control. He knew he was to blame. He could have stopped things. He could have ended everything that night. But he hadn't, and now things had gone too far. They couldn't go back. Even if he wanted to, and he wasn't even sure if he did.

He closed his eyes as he thought back to the night it all changed.

Angel's POV

I stood staring into the fire, willing it to tell me what I needed to know. Why was I here? Why had I returned from Hell? Did I have some sort of purpose in the grand scheme of things? Was there someone somewhere who thought I could make a difference? Or was it all just a cosmic joke?

If there was someone, somewhere who wanted me here, didn't they know the danger I posed? Didn't they know what it was like for me? Didn't they know that I couldn't be what I had been before? I couldn't pretend any longer, not all the time. I would need to release all that I bottled up. eventually.

The guilt I carried was no longer enough to keep my demon at bay indefinitely. Sooner or later, I would lose control. Sooner or later the evil in me would come out to play. Maybe only for an hour, or a night. Maybe a week. But what kind of damage could I cause in that short amount of time?

And it wasn't a matter of the soul. It didn't figure into it. It wasn't Angelus who controlled my bloodlust. He didn't rule my demon, not completely. The violence was in me as well as him. The soul only allowed me to fight it better. It allowed my conscious to see things the demon blinded me to.

But how long would it be before I lost control? How long until someone incited the demon within? How long until someone tempted me with the power the rage possessed?

I asked all of these questions as I stared into the fire. I heard him come up the walkway. I'm not sure how I knew it was him. Maybe it was his scent. It had been etched into my senses since the moment we met. Maybe it was the sound he made. Or maybe it was fury, which rolled off of him. It was almost tangible, and I could feel my demon rattling in its cage at the ferocity of it.

I turned around when he entered and stared at him for a moment before speaking.

"Xander"

"You're weak." He spat at me. "You should have stayed in Hell."

"I know." I told him calmly. Wasn't that just what I was thinking?

"Do you?" He hissed as he stalked towards me.

I could feel his rage. It was powerful. I knew that in this moment, things would change. I could stop what was about to happen. But did I want to? I was the source of his anger. I could feel that. I knew that I had caused this rage, and somehow only I could release it.

So many times, I had wished he had confronted me. Told me why it was he hated me so. I wanted to change the way he saw me. I wanted him to see me. For who, and what I really was. Not what everyone else saw. Not what Buffy believed me to be.

Here was my chance. I knew I wouldn't get another. Something had set him off tonight. I feared I knew what it was. Buffy had told me that Xander had seen her kiss me. The idea that he had seen something that shouldn't have happened at a moment when I hadn't the sense to resist bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

I wanted him to take his anger out on me. It was justified. So, I stood completely still as he stepped closer to me. He pushed me up against the wall, and I could feel the stone through my shirt. The forceful way he handled me brought out long buried feelings I had for this mortal boy.

He looked into my eyes then, and I was certain he could see my want, my need, because he kissed me then. The kiss was forceful. His lips, claiming mine in a semblance of possession. Normally I wouldn't want to be possessed, but here, now, I did. Not only possessed, but possessed by him.

He began to rip my clothes off and I felt my body tremble with want. When he pulled away from me to breathe, he began to take his own clothes off and I couldn't help but rake my eyes over his form. He had changed a lot since I first met him. He had been attractive then. But now, now my desire wouldn't be squashed. It wouldn't be pushed aside or driven away.

I wanted him. I needed him. I could feel my demon surge forward as he looked into my eyes again. I was sure he could see the demon trying to break lose, and for a moment, I was fearful he would be frightened and leave. But instead of running, he kissed me again. This time sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. I felt his teeth bite down and I became harder, if that was even possible, as he sucked on the trickle of blood coming from his small wound. I growled, wanted him so badly I couldn't think straight.

He pulled away from me then and stepped back. I growled again, not wanting to lose him. He grinned at me then and stepped back further. With a speed I didn't think he was capable of he pushed me to the ground and picked up a dagger I had hanging above the mantle and toyed with the blade.

I could feel my demon just below the surface, and I knew my eyes were most likely golden. He didn't seem to care.

I watched him as he eyed me hungrily. I knew what he wanted. I knew that he was going to mark me. It wouldn't matter that the wounds would heal and that there would be no sign of what was going to happen here tonight. I would know.

He straddled me, rubbing our hard erections together, causing blessed friction. He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head, his warm nipples rubbing against my chest.

He began to lick my ear, and I thought I was going to lose it right then. When his tongue started to lick my throat, I grunted.

"I can feel you." He whispered in my ear, his warm breath making it hard for me to concentrate.

"Just below the surface, you rage. You are not so different now, are you?" He asked me.

It was at this moment that I realized what he meant. He knew me. He saw me. For what I was, who I was. He felt me. As this realization reached my desire-laden mind, I felt free for the first time. ever. I stared at him, waiting. I knew then that whatever he wanted, I would do. If only to have this one moment of freedom, because I knew when it was all over, I would never feel this way again. Never this free, and never with him.

He began to trace the contours of my chest with the dagger. After several swipes, I felt the blade pierce my flesh. I could feel the blood well up as he carved a line into my chest. The feel of the blade, the smell of my own blood, and the release he was provided me caused me to arch up ever so slightly into him, causing more friction.

Xander began licking the trail of blood, which I began to drip. I hissed at the pleasurable sensation.

"You like that?" He asked as he made another cut.

I could barely nod as he continued to mark me with the dagger. I could hear groans and grunts leave my lips, but they seemed to be far off, almost as if they came from someone else. He had this faraway look in his dark eyes, and I wondered if his mind had traveled to the same ecstasy driven place as mine. I thrust into him forcefully, which seemed to bring him out of the daze he was in.

He lifted up slightly then and flipped me over. I knew what was coming next, and I almost came then. I hadn't been in this position in a very long time, and certainly never with a mortal, but it didn't matter. I wanted him. I wanted him in me. I wanted him to possess me, and as strange as it sounds, my demon wanted it too.

I felt his fingers run along my chest, rubbing in the blood which was still there. He trailed his fingers across my chest until he reached a nipple. When I felt the pinch, it took all of my control not to beg him for something, anything.

I didn't have to wait long. I felt him enter me in one savage thrust, not even bothering with lubrication, with the exception of his own pre-cum. I didn't care. I hissed in pleasure as he continued thrusting into me. His bloody fingers found my achingly hard shaft and began pumping me in time to his own thrusts.

I held off my own orgasm, wanting to come with him. When I felt him bite into my shoulder, it was too much for me and I screamed with my release.

I felt him collapse on top of me as my body began to relax. He was still inside me and I relished the feeling. I knew it would all be over far too soon. As I listened to his breathing even out I wondered what would happen next.

Surely he would come to his senses. Maybe blame me for what happened. Maybe apologize. But I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for what had happened. I wasn't sorry. He had offered me something I had never had before. He offered me acceptance, release from the demon's rage. Something I never expected to find anywhere, much less in the arms of a boy who hated me.

However, it didn't matter what I felt, what I wanted. This would never happen again. Soon he would wake up and leave and I would go back to the lie. The act of control that I had perfected. Until eventually, my control would slip.

Only then, I doubted I would have a willing recipient who would understand my rage.

*******

Angel stared out the window at the overcast day as he remembered the way it all started. So much had changed. He wanted to be able to say he was sorry. That he wanted to end things, but he couldn't. As awful as things had gotten, he couldn't bare the thought of ending it. He couldn't stand the idea of not seeing him anymore. Even if it was only a few times a month, and only long enough for them to shag, as his favorite Childe eloquently put it.

So, he continued to live the lie. They continued to meet, and he continued to pretend it was just about sex, hoping that one day it would change.

~Five Days Later~

Angel pulled the car into the garage in silence. He closed the garage door with the remote control, as he watched the door slide closed, he checked his watch once more.

Xander hadn't arrived yet. The absence of his motorcycle was proof of that. But it wasn't the lack of his vehicle that alerted Angel to the boy's absence. It was the presence. Or lack there of. He couldn't feel him. He couldn't feel anything.

Angel climbed out of the car as he sighed heavily. He was doing that a lot lately. He had spent the last week thinking a lot. Brooding would probably be a more accurate term, but either way, he couldn't get past the thoughts that wound themselves around his mind.

He lad lost control. That was not a surprise really. If he were honest, he had never actually had the control. He had given it to Xander that first night, and things had spiraled out of control from there. It had turned into the nightmare he was living now.

Sighing again he pulled out his keys to the house and entered through the door which led from the garage into the kitchen. He set his keys down on the counter that separated the dining room from the kitchen. He stared at the counter, which was completely bare, with the exception of the keys, which seemed to little the top of it, like some foreign object that was marring it's purity.

The whole house was like that. Empty. Completely devoid of anything. It looked the same as the day he had bought it. The walls were bare, still a pristine white, which somehow mocked what they did here. The carpeting was a dark grey, and it held none of the telltale signs of being trampled on, walked on, lived in. No indentations where furniture had sat for too long. No spots where someone had spilled their coffee. The thick curtains hung against the blinds, completely still. It looked like no one had ever touched them except to install them on the large windows. There was nothing that said this living room had actually been lived in.

Angel ran a hand through his dark hair as he walked down the hall, towards the bedroom. The house itself was very simple. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, dining area, and kitchen. All of the rooms were as bare as the first. No furniture, no decorations of any kind.

Only the master bedroom looked as if it had ever been occupied, but only if you looked closely. It was as bare as the rest of the house, but if you examined the carpet closely you could see signs of wear. There where places where it didn't look as perfect as the rest of the room. There were subtle stains in various places. Stains made by the shedding of blood where acts of violence had been played out in this otherwise bare room.

Angel fulfilled a need here. He could be free here. He could let lose and be for Xander what Xander was for him. A release. Release of all the anger, and pain and frustration they held within them in between visits.

That's what they were about.

Hunger, and passion, and need. But not love. Never Love. That hadn't been a part of their relationship. But Angel was tired of the way things were. He wanted more. More than these weekends that were filled with powerful mind-blowing sex, and little else. He wanted to be able to forget the lie, and tell his lover that things had changed. That it wasn't just about fulfillment anymore.

Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love. He knew he shouldn't have. He knew that it was hopelessly one-sided. He knew that if his lover thought, for even one second, that his feelings had changed, he would walk away. And he couldn't bare that.

So he continued to come here, to this barren house, several hours away from either Sunnydale or Los Angeles, and pretend that he didn't care. That was all he could do. To do anything else would be to risk too much.

Angel turned around and walked out of the bedroom and made his way back out into the kitchen. Looking at his watch once more, he scowled, realizing it was later than he thought. Xander was more than three hours late. That wasn't like him.

He needed these weekends just as much as Angel did, even if it was for different reasons. He never missed a scheduled weekend. He had never even been late before. That worried the vampire.

What if something had happened to him? What if he had been attacked? Or worse, what if he had decided he didn't want these weekends anymore? What if he had found someone else?

****

Willow walked silently along the deserted road listening to Buffy tell her all about her most recent date with Riley. She had to stifle a yawn. It wasn't that she was tired as much as bored.

The redhead had almost forgotten why it was she had come patrolling with the Slayer. But then she remembered that this was the weekend Xander would be out of town, and Willow wasn't about to tell Buffy she couldn't go patrolling because she was shagging Spike. S he didn't think that would go over very well.

"So." Buffy started, bringing Willow out of her thoughts.

"Hmm?" Willow looked at her friend.

"What's up with Spike?"

"Spike?" Willow asked, her eyes growing wide. "What do you mean?"

"Well, since when is he friends with Xander, of all people?" Buffy eyed Willow carefully, waiting for an answer.

Willow shrugged. "I don't know."

Buffy's eyes narrowed as she noted that Willow didn't deny that Spike and Xander were friends. "Are you saying it's true?"

Willow stopped and stared at the Slayer, wondering why it was she cared all of a sudden how Xander was spending his time. "They're friends." She confirmed.

"Is Xand that desperate for companionship?" Buffy snickered, suddenly realizing that her friend was more pathetic than she thought if he was willingly spending time with Spike.

Willow took a deep breath, biting off the nasty retort at the tip of her tongue. She was about defend her best friends friendship with her lover when she saw Buffy stiffen.

"What is it?" Willow asked as she looked around.

Buffy searched the darkness warily as she pulled out a stake. "I don't know. but my spider sense is on over-drive."

"A vampire?" Willow asked as she pulled out her own stake.

"No." Buffy shook her head as she turned down an alley behind a row of shops.

Willow followed behind her and nearly collided with the slayer when she stopped abruptly. "Buff?" Willow asked when she heard Buffy's sharp intake of breath.

Buffy stared town at the ground and stumbled backwards slightly, one hand covering her face.

"Buffy? What is it? Willow asked as she stepped closer. She hadn't scene Buffy so shaken in a long time.

Willow stepped around the Slayer, keeping her eyes riveted on her friend's face, which had gone a pasty shade of white. She stepped back slightly, so she could look at her friend. Her foot bumped into to something just as her nostrils filled with the scent of something not quite alive, but not dead either.

She turned around slowly and looked at the ground, taking in big gulps of air at the sight that greeted her. There was a body lying across the pavement near her feet. What she could only guess had once been a hand was brushing against her ankle.

She believed the person had been a man, but it was hard to tell. Its body was ripped in half, along its torso, with the lower have twisted at such an angle that it couldn't be natural. Their shirt was drenched in it's own blood, from a deep wound in it's chest.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst was its eye. The one that was still visible through the mass of blood covering its head. It stared at her, directly; looking at her, begging her for assistance she couldn't give it. She saw slight movement in its chest and knew it was still alive.

The site made her stomach lurch. "What did this?" She whispered, her eyes still on the victim, as she spoke to Buffy, who had stepped back.

"An animal." Buffy hissed as she regained some of her composure.

Willow shook her head as she gulped. "No. Those marks, there." She pointed to the area where its body had been savagely separated. "An animal didn't make those."

Buffy shook her head. "A vampire wouldn't have done this." Her voice was shaky.

Willow couldn't look away from the mutilated body. "We should get Giles."

"Yeah." Buffy agreed as she began to pull Willow away.

When they were nearly to the former watcher's house, they slowed their pace. Willow couldn't get her mind off that pleading look in the victim's eye. She didn't know what had attacked it, but whatever it was, had a lot of rage, and she wasn't looking forward to finding any more of its victims.

*****

Xander awoke to a pounding in his head. He lifted his arm to touch his temple, completely forgetting about his cast. The hard plaster smacked him in his already bruised nose.

"Fuck!" He hissed as he tried to open his eyes. He couldn't remember where he was. He looked around. He could feel a breeze, telling him he was outside, but his surroundings didn't look familiar. He stared at the ground in confusion. He was lying on the hard pavement. somewhere.

Stand up carefully, Xander looked around a little more. He saw his bike parked a few blocks away, although he wasn't entirely certain how he could see it from this distance. He was in too much pain to question it though and started walking towards the motorcycle.

By the time he reached it, his head had cleared some. He still didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten there, but he did know where he was supposed to be. He looked at the clock on his bike and cursed.

He was nearly five hours late. Angel was going to be pissed, if he was even still there. Starting the engine, Xander sped out of the alley, and drove to the first gas station he could find. He needed to find out where he was.

He would have called Angel, but since they didn't have a phone at the house, that was sort of out of the question. He hoped he hadn't left. He really needed to see him tonight. Wanted to see him, for reason's he would never admit to, at least not to anyone other than himself.

His relationship with Angel was something he tried not to think about, much less discuss with anyone, especially Angel. He knew what Angel wanted and expected from him, and he gave it to him. The fact that his own needs and desires had changed didn't matter. IT never would. And as long as Angel continued to meet with him, he was okay with that. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

After speaking briefly with the gas station attendant, Xander was relieved to discover that he was closer to his meeting place with Angel than he was to Sunnydale. That was good. It was already far too late. And he didn't have a plausible explanation.

The last thing he could remember clearly had been leaving Spike's house at ten AM that morning. It was now close to two in the morning. Nearly sixteen hours unaccounted for. He didn't know what had happened to cause him to black out like that, although he figured it was a side effect from his run in with the demon earlier in the week.

Just another consequence of helping the Slayer patrol for a demon she knew nothing about. They still didn't know why it had attacked him or what he meant by any of the things he said. Not that it mattered. What's done, was done.

*****

Xander reached the house in record time and parked his motorcycle in the driveway, instead of the garage. He didn't think he'd be there long enough to need to make use of the driveway. Angel was probably gone.

He entered the house silently, tossing his helmet on the empty living room floor. He searched the room with his eyes, searching for any sign that Angel was still there. He found none.

The room was still as completely bare as it always was. It had this sterile quality to it. Something that almost sickened the mortal, with its comparison to the state of his relationship with the only other person who'd ever entered this house.

He shook his thoughts off, his anger at the present situation welling up. He walked swiftly towards his helmet and picked it up. Gripping it fiercely in his hands he headed towards the front door.

"You're late." Angel's voice was controlled as it reached Xander's ears just before he opened the front door.

Xander stopped and turned around, his eyes darkened, as his anger started to reverberate around him. He was angry at his situation. A t his life in general. Most of all, at angel and the way he made him feel. At the harsh tone in his voice.

"I'm here now." He hissed as he tossed his helmet back on the floor.

"Where have you been?" Angel asked, afraid to hear the answer. He couldn't smell someone else on his lover, but he did something different about him. Something wasn't quite right.

Xander looked into Angel's dark eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. "That isn't any of your business, is it?" He asked.

He wanted Angel to tell him it was. That he wanted to know where Xander had been. What had made him more than six hours late? It didn't matter that he didn't have an answer for him, he just wanted to know that Angel cared.

Angel turned around and headed towards the bedroom as he spoke. "No, it's not."

Xander took of his jacket and tossed it on top of his helmet just before following the vampire down the hall.

"Bastard." He hissed under his breath.

***** Angel opened his eyes to silence. He knew he was alone. Xander was gone. The quietness of the house was deafening. He looked around the room. It didn't look any different than any other time he had been there.

The lack of any furniture made the room seem larger than it was. He had suggesting getting a bed once, back when they'd bought the house, over a year and half ago. Xander had asked him why bother. It wasn't as if they actually lived in the house. They spent three days here, twice a month. But while they were here, they didn't sit and talk about what was going on in their individual lives. They didn't go out to some local restaurant to eat, or order in for a romantic dinner. They didn't sit by the fireplace and just be with one another. None of those other things that represented an actual relationship.

They came to this house for one reason and one reason only. And while they spent three days together, outside of the moans and groans, and demands for more, they didn't speak. Xander didn't care what was going on in Angel' s life, and Angel didn't ask what was going on in Xander's, knowing that the mortal wouldn't tell him anything anyway.

This was their life. This was they way they made it. The way they wanted it. Wasn't it?

Angel pushed the question away as he got to his feet and pulled on his pants. It was a question he found himself asking all to frequently. Unfortunately, he still had no answers.

He wandered out to the garage to grab a bag of blood out of the cooler he left in a cooler in his car. He would have to drink it cold, since there was no way to heat it up. It didn't matter. He was used to it by now.

As he reentered the house, an object sitting on the floor in the living room caught his eye. He smiled slightly to himself when he realized what it was. Xander's motorcycle helmet.

If he left it behind, that meant he was coming back. He hadn't been sure the boy would. Although it was only Saturday, and Xander never left the town before Monday, Angel was always expecting that one week Xander would leave early, never to return, or worse, not show up at all. That's what the vampire had believed had happened this weekend. But even thinking that, he couldn't bring himself to leave himself.

Angel admitted to himself that he was so far out of control where Xander was concerned that he probably would have stayed in this barren house all weekend to make sure he hadn't missed the mortal. He was pathetic, and he knew it, but part of him didn't care. And the part that did care wanted to believe that things would change. But the longer they continued, the worse it got. Angel knew it. Xander knew it. But they were powerless to stop it. They needed it too much. Although Angel wasn't sure what it was he needed anymore. Was it the release Xander offered him, or Xander himself?

Angel shook his head from his thoughts as he drank his cold breakfast and walked down the hall, stopping in the spare bedroom. He was exhausted, but he could never bring himself to sleep in the other bedroom. That was reserved for when Xander was with him, however sleep was not high on the list during those times.

Angel sighed needlessly as he shut the bedroom door behind him. He made sure the drapes on the windows were secure before lying down on the floor and succumbing to sleep.

*****

Xander drove his bike through the streets of Palm Springs. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. He just needed to get out of the house. It was suffocating him. It was another cold reminder of the bizarre state of his life. Things didn't make sense anymore. He didn't know what he was doing, or why. He knew he should have left the desert town and returned to Sunnydale, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

He didn't want to be the one to end the nightmare he lived on these weekends. He wanted Angel to be the one to walk out. To tell him he wasn't going to do it anymore. And every other Friday, when Xander drove to the house, he half expected to find it empty. For that to be the weekend it happened, but it never was. He wondered if it ever would be. He didn't think so. Angel needed him. He needed someone he could be himself with. Someone who would let the demon out to play someone who would except him for what he was. However, the vampire didn't need someone who would love him. That never entered into the equation. It wasn't part of their original relationship, and now it was too late to change things.

Xander snarled under his breath as he pulled his bike into the coffeehouse parking lot. He always ended up here when he wandered around the city. He wasn't sure if it was just by chance, or if it was a subconscious desire to have a connection with something that was separate from this town and what he did here.

The "Coffee Dot Com" Coffeehouse was one of those trendy new places where you could drinking coffee and get Internet access. He came here at least once during the weekend to email Willow and let her know he was still in one piece. Some weekends, he came here more than once. Usually when his rage at the situation drove him out until the sun filled streets where Angel couldn't follow.

This was one of those times. He thrust opened the front door and sat at the counter. He ordered an espresso and waited somewhat impatiently for it to be made. He needed some caffeine. He didn't want to go back to the house until he absolutely had to. He wouldn't return until his need became too great.

The girl behind the counter handed him the drink and accepted his twenty-dollar bill. She smiled at him briefly before turning back to the cash register to get his change. When she turned to face him again, money in hand, Xander was gone.

Xander left the shop angrily. He was becoming worse than Angel constantly thinking, brooding, and worrying. Not his Angel, but the one the other's saw. That made it worse. He couldn't even be real anymore. He didn't know when the lie stopped and the truth began.

It was getting worse. He could feel it. The anger was constantly swirling around in his head, telling him to forget everything, and take what he wanted, what he needed. It told him to forget his parents and their constant insults. Forget the way Buffy and Giles seemed to think he wasn't good for anything except junk food runs and the occasion lame joke. Forget how their treatment of his only two friends annoyed him to no end. But most of all forget about Angel and the way the vampire accept his anger, but nothing else.

He wanted something he couldn't have in the vampire. And that knowledge just fueled his anger more. And now, he had something else to forget, or not remember. There was a subtle difference, he realized.

He still didn't know what had happened during those sixteen missing hours, and that bothered him. Where had he been? What had he done?

As the questions ran through his head, he stalked back to his bike. Just before he reached it, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. His knees buckled under him and he fell to the ground.

The dizziness only lasted for a minute, and when he stood up, all the questions were gone. The answers didn't matter anymore. Thought didn't matter, only need, and desire, and hunger.

*****

Giles took a deep breath as he turned around to face his charges. He had just gotten off the telephone with the coroner, and wasn't looking forward to telling them what he'd learned.

"Well?" Buffy asked impatiently, moving her stake from one hand to another.

Giles took off his glasses and started polishing them furiously. "Um. the victim. he." He hesitated.

"Bloody Hell, Watcher, spit it out!" Spike snarled, exasperated. There were things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the watcher's house where he had to keep his distance from his Red.

"Was it an animal?" Riley asked from his seat on the couch, next to Buffy.

"No. It. a person did this." Giles told them.

"No. A person wouldn't have done this." Buffy denied.

"There's more." Giles told them. "He. was kept alive through the. torture. It must have lasted hours." Giles sat down, his own torture flashing in his mind.

"Neat." Spike grinned and then shrugged when Willow scowled at him.

"Was it a demon?" Riley, ever the business-like commando demanded, casting an accusatory glance at Spike.

Spike smirked at the reaction he was causing in the farmboy.

"I... don't know. Maybe." Giles told them honestly.

"Well, find out. I need something to kill." Buffy shouted as she began to pace around.

"Yes, well, it might not be that easy." Giles told her. He turned around and stared handing out books. "We should research it though. I'm afraid this is only the beginning."

Willow took the book and turned to look at Spike. There was something bothering her. Some sort of feeling nagging at the back of her mind. She

didn't know what it was, but it seemed important somehow.

Spike's blue eyes bore into hers. He could feel it too, she could tell by the look he was giving her. He stood up and grabbed his duster, walking out the door before anyone had a chance to question him.

"Where's he off to?" Buffy wondered.

Willow shrugged. "He's probably gone to ask around town."

Buffy nodded, accepting her answer, not wondering how it was Willow could read the vampire so well.

******

Willow rubbed her eyes in exhaustion as she fiddled with her key ring looking for the key that would open the door to Spike's apartment. She would have knocked, but she knew he was still out. She had been thankful that Buffy was more interested in a last patrol with Riley than in walking her home.

She wasn't in the mood to have to sneak out of her parent's house and double back to Spike's apartment. At least this way she didn't have to. And with any luck, Spike would be back soon, maybe with some information on what had killed the man they had found in the alley.

She had a bad feeling about it. She didn't know what, or who had killed him, and their research had turned up nothing. The fact was that if it wasn't something supernatural, there wasn't much for them to research. They would just have to wait until another victim showed up, and that wasn't something she was looking forward to.

The redhead made her way into the kitchen and made herself something to eat. They had been researching so heavily she had forgotten it eat. With Xander away for the weekend, food wasn't considered a necessity for their research sessions. She smiled softly thinking about her best friend. She hoped he was all right. He always returned from his weekends with Angel moody.

The first few days were a lesson in patience for both herself and Spike. No one else paid enough attention to even notice anything was wrong. But by the middle of the week, he was back to his normal self, except every once in awhile she'd catch him. He would have this 'look' on his face, and she knew that he was thinking about Angel, and the sad state of their relationship.

Xander never talked about it, but Willow knew it was bad. The few times she had spoken to Angel about it, he had told hr it was just sex, mind-blowing as it may be, but nevertheless just sex. Willow knew there was more to it than that, but she wasn't entirely sure if they did.

Hearing the front door being thrust opened, followed by a string of familiar curse, Willow went to the fridge and pulled out a couple of bags of blood to heat in the microwave. When the blood was warmed, Willow poured it into a large mug and walked out into the living room and offered it to Spike.

"Hungry?" She asked softly.

Spike smiled slightly, the irritation in his face draining away. "Thanks, Luv." He took the mug and sat down along the couch.

Willow came to sit next to him as he drained the mug. "You didn't find out anything?"

"Only new demons in town is that pack of demons that attacked Xander."

"You think they killed that guy?" She asked as she took his mug into the kitchen and washed it out.

"No. Word on the street is that there's only two of them left. Half of their pack was taken down."

"Oh." Willow slumped into the couch and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you think that whatever killed the demons killed that man?" She asked, as her mind tried to sort through everything.

"Maybe." He stood up and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. "There' s better things to be doing now though." He captured her lips in a kiss as the fell to the mattress.

*****

Xander leaned against the side of the building, watching with a predatory eye. He wasn't search what he was searching for, but he'd know it when he saw it. He looked up at the sky for a moment. It was almost dusk. He'd need to hurry. No time to play tonight.

He felt the need building within him at the knowledge of what he was about to do, and what he would do one he returned to the house. Angel was waiting for him. He'd want to play too. That's all he wanted.

Xander laughed harshly. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a girl leaving a nearby store. She'd do. He hid himself in the shadows when he realized she would have to walk right past him.

The girl, blonde, about twenty or so, walked past Xander, seemingly without a care in the world. She was pulled from behind, a strong arm clamped over her mouth to prevent her scream. She didn't the only thing she could. She bit it,

Xander chuckled as he felt the sting, and the sensation of his blood starting to flow. "Ooh, I like that. Do it again." He whispered in her ear.

The body in his arms froze at his words. He laughed again. "That's a good girl. Don't fight it. You won't win." He dragged her into a nearby alley and pushed her against the wall, facing her for the first time.

"You want to die now, or later?" He asked her. As her shocked expression, Xander chuckled. "Makes no difference to me. I sort of like fucking the dead." He sneered.

The girl's heart was pounding furiously in her chest. Xander didn't know how it was he could hear it, but he could. It sounded like a symphony almost, screaming out for blood. He was about to ask the question again when he looked at her again and noticed she had passed out.

Xander shrugged. "Have it your way." He drug her farther into the alley, to a place where he wouldn't be interrupted and shoved her behind a trash dumpster. When he was finished, he could toss the body. No fuss, no muss.

*****

It was a couple hours past dusk when Xander made it back to the house, clothes dirty, torn, bloody, and feeling rather disoriented. He didn't know how far he had been walking in the dark streets when he stumbled on his bike parked near the coffee shop.

He climbed on and drove back to the house, trying to make sense of what happened. He must have been attacked, that much was obvious. But by who or what, he didn't know. He also didn't know why he was still alive. Surely if he had been knocked unconscious his attacker could have killed him. So why wasn't he dead?

He pushed all questions aside as he made his way into the house. He'd have plenty of time to answer them later. Now he'd have to come up with a believe excuse to explain where he had been. He couldn't tell Angel the truth. That would never do.

Xander steps through the front door and looks around, hoping to avoid Angel, and yet, at the same time, hoping he'll be there, waiting, wanting to know what happened.

"What happened?" Angel asked as he crossed the room in two strides. He inhales and the scent of fresh blood and dirt assault his senses, mixed with something else. Something else he doesn't want to admit he can smell. The scent of sex. It makes his stomach clench into a tight knot.

"I'm fine." Xander speaks gruffly, ignoring Angel's question. He walks past the vampire and heads into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes.

Angel stands in the doorway, taking in his lover's appearance as his clothing is stripped away. He's covered with dirt, and blood. Angel takes in the scent and realizes that the blood isn't his and wonders again what happened.

"What?" Xander hissed as he turned around, completely naked now.

"What happened?" Angel asked, forcing his voice to remain emotionless.

Xander turned away from the vampire and turned on the water. "I was attacked." He shrugged. "No biggie." He climbed into the shower without another word.

Angel watched him for several seconds before stripping off his own clothes. He knew Xander was lying, but he didn't know why. His frustration seemed to spark his earlier anger.

Xander turned his head slightly when he felt the breeze of the shower door opening. He didn't really acknowledge Angel's presence though, instead continuing to wash himself off.

Xander noticed with confusion, that with the exception of a mark on his arm, which resembled blunt teeth, marks, he didn't have a scratch on him, that hadn't been there before. She tried to remember what had happened. He was still drawing a blank.

"Where were you?" Angel's voice had a sharp edge to it.

Xander spun around, anger at his memory loss, fueling his rage. "Why do you care? My bodies still here, in once." His stepped closer to Angel, his cock brushing up against Angel's body. "I'm still fuckable. That is why you're here. Isn't it?"

Angel was so close to telling him that he was wrong, but just as he was about to speak, a fresh wave of the foreign scent reached him. The scent that told Angel that Xander had had sex. With someone else. His demon raged.

Spinning Xander around to face the wall of the shower, Angel pressed his hard cock up against Xander's ass. "Yeah, that's why I'm here."

Xander thrust back against Angel as he felt the vampire enter his ass. He groaned as both pleasure and pain washed over him. He started pumping his own cock in time to Angel's savage thrusts. He nearly came when he felt Angel's ridges against his shoulder. But he held on until he felt Angel's release and the familiar sting of fangs biting into his flesh savagely.

Angel pulled out of him and left the shower, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

When he was gone, Xander sagged against the shower door, and let the cooling water wash him clean. He sat in the showing, icy water raining down on him for what could have been hours.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he walked, naked and dripping to the living room where his helmet and duffel bag was sitting. Pulling out some fresh clothes, he began to get dressed.

He noted with a small measure of sadness that Angel was gone. It was just as well, the mortal realized. He need time to think. Time figure out what was wrong with him. He had a total of twenty hours in two days that were unaccounted for. He didn't know why he had blacked out, or if there was something wrong with him.

He had never blacked out before. Never. Not when he had become soldier boy at Halloween. Not even when he had been possessed by the hyena spirit. Never. He could remember every single moment of his nineteen years. Except for those twenty hours. And that worried him, but he wasn't entirely sure what he could do about it.

Fully dressed, Xander made his way to the spare bedroom for some much-needed sleep. It was the only room in the house he could actually sleep in, although he didn't know why.

Xander lay down against the plush carpet and closed his eyes. His last thought before he slipped into slumber was where Angel was, and if he was coming back.

*****

Angel walked through the streets of Palm Springs, watching the tourists with sadness. They came here for a vacation, or for romantic getaway weekends. They didn't come here to fuck a lover they couldn't talk to. They didn't come here, knowing their lover hated them. They didn't come here in the hopes that one day they'd have the courage to change things.

Angel knew he had over reacted to the knowledge had fucked someone else. He knew that's all it was. Just sex. Xander was incapable of anything else. He also knew that he had no claim on the mortal boy. He had no right to say anything about his life, or they way he chose to live it. But he wanted to. He wanted to claim him, and let the entire world know he was his, and no one else could touch him.

But Xander wasn't ready for that. Maybe he never would be. Angel could only wait, and hope. Until then, Angel would continue the way things were. He would force himself to endure the weeks without Xander, and deal with the attitude he was always confronted with. He would pretend that the sex was all there was. That the sex was enough.

In short, he'd continue to live the lie, and hope one day Xander could except the truth.

*******

Willow closed another book and scowled. They were getting nowhere. It had been three weeks since the first victim had been found. And in that time, nine more bodies had been found. All dead, or near death. All mutilated almost beyond recognition. All without a signal clue as to who or what had done it.

As each week past, Buffy became more intense with her patrols. She wanted to know what had dared come to her town and rip apart the local residents. Giles was at a loss to explain what was happening.

Spike wasn't having any luck with his sources either, and as each day passed, the feeling of familiarity rooted itself deeper into her mind. She knew there was something about these murders she should recognize. Some small detail that she was overlooking.

To make things even more difficult, the recent events had worn everyone's nerves to a frazzle, and Xander seemed to be the first person to lose it. He had been extremely short tempered lately. With Giles and Buffy especially, but occasionally with Spike and herself.

Although they didn't seem to test Xander's patience nearly as much and they were around him a lot more often. That was probably due to the fact that they knew him better than the others. Really knew him. And they didn't expect him to be something he wasn't. They didn't judge him, or try to tell him what he should be doing.

Unfortunately, all of those things were being done. By Giles and Buffy. Even Riley had begun telling the brown-haired youth how he should be acting. The result of such interference was anger and frustration.

Xander had always been angry, for as long as Willow had known him. But over time he had learned to push his feelings aside and be the person everyone expected. Something had happened recently that changed all that. Willow wasn't sure what it was, but had a feeling it had to do with that demon that had attacked Xander nearly a month ago. That's when Xander's temper started becoming more and more prevalent.

Willow sighed and picked up another book, although she doubted she would find any answers. She heard the front the door to Giles apartment being thrust open. Xander walked in and looked around. Willow looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight and Xander was supposed to be by around eight.

"Hey." She smiled softly.

"Hey, what I miss?" He asked with a goofy grin.

Willow shrugged. "Nothing. We still don't know anything."

Xander nodded. "Where is everyone?"

"Kitchen." Willow pointed behind her head to where Giles, Buffy and Riley were arguing over some idea Buffy had for searching for their attacker.

"Junior?" Xander asked, knowing he wasn't in the kitchen with the others. He couldn't sense him. He had stopped questioning why it was he could sense when Spike or other vampires were around. It seemed to be normal now.

Willow shrugged. "He went out. Didn't say where." She spoke loud enough so that the people in the kitchen could hear.

Xander grinned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Where is he really?"

Willow's eyes sparkled. "He went to 'talk' with Willy."

Xander laughed. "I bet."

Willow laughed too. "Tomorrow's Friday." She commented after a minute.

Xander looked at her, his eyes losing their humor. "I know. I'll go. maybe. It'll keep."

Willow quirked an eyebrow. "Will it? You've been. tense. Maybe a session with him is what you need."

Xander shrugged her off. "You worry to much. I'll be fine. I'll go, we'll shag. everything'll be just. peachy." He knew his voice ahs lost its humor, but he didn't have to worry about how harsh he was sounding. Willow understood, probably better than he did.

Before Willow could say anything further, Buffy came bounding out of the kitchen. "Xander? Where the hell have you been?"

Xander turned away from Willow and looked at Buffy through narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"

Willow stood up. "Maybe we should go Xan. It's late." She knew that Xander was in no mood to answer questions. The sooner she got him out of there, the better things would be for everyone. Buffy hadn't really noticed a change in Xander, and Willow wanted to keep it that way.

Xander stood up, not really interested in getting into an argument with the Slayer. It seemed that's all they ever did lately. He knew he had been moody recently, but Buffy was just as irritated with him as he was with her.

"No, I want to know where you've been!" Buffy demanded. There was just something about Xander recently that set her off.

Xander closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm down, but the very feel of her in the same room with him set him off. He didn't know how it was he had been attracted to her at one time.

"Last I checked you weren't my mother, my lover, or my keeper. So. BACK OFF!" He growled the last part, leaving Buffy in shock. Xander walked past the stunned slayer without another word.

Buffy turned to Willow with a questioning gaze.

Willow shrugged sympathetically. "He's been under a lot of stress." She followed Xander out the door before any more questions could be asked.

Xander was waiting outside of the building, a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Wills," he told her when she joined him. "I don't know what came over me in there. She just.sets me on edge."

Willow nodded. "Come on. Let's go back to Spikes."

"No, I do have to go. I have. some things to do."

Willow nodded. "Okay, but you be careful."

Xander nodded once before disappearing down the street. Willow made her way towards Spike's apartment and hoped that he was having more luck than she had had.

*****

Once Xander was sure he was out of site, he slumped against a nearby wall. He didn't know what was happening to him. The blackouts were becoming more and more frequent. He had just had one that evening. That was why he was so late getting to Giles.

He had completely backed out. This time he had only lost two-and a half hours. But he'd had to go home and shower and change. Whatever had happened during his blackout had made a mess of his clothes. He was beginning to realize that he hadn't been attacked the way he had originally believed.

The instances were too frequent now to qualify as a coincidence. Almost every time he came out of the now familiar haze that signaled another black out, he was covered in dirt, and grime, and more often than not, blood, and . other things. He had to admit to himself that something happened during those missing hours. something he most likely didn't want to know about. Something he didn't want to face.

It frightened him, to think of what he could be doing. He knew he was capable of things no one would believe. His relationship with Angel showed that. He liked the danger, the violence that their sessions brought him. The fact that he was now in love with the object of his previous scorn didn't change that.

He knew that despite the fact that sometimes he wanted something other than the harsh fuck he both gave and got from Angel, that he couldn't give up the violence completely. He was honest with himself enough to know that although their relationship had started out in anger, and continued as a source of release for both of them, it had evolved into so much more, at least for him.

Xander knew that he was in love with the ensiled vampire. He knew that that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. But at the same time he knew it was hopeless. Their relationship had never been based in love, or affection. It had always been about anger. It would probably always remain that way.

The knowledge of the futility of his situation only seemed to increase his anger. And recently, it had just gotten worse. He had neither the will, nor the desire to push his anger aside anymore. It was rearing its ugly head. Every little thing seemed to fuel his anger, and the blackouts were frustrating him to know end. He didn't know what he did during those times, and was almost afraid to find out.

He had begun to believe that the things that he did during those hours were not something he would want to remember. He had a bad feeling he knew what it was he had done, but couldn't bring himself to really think the thoughts. He wasn't ready to accept some things. And the evil within him was one of those things.

Xander stood up straight and made his way to his house. He had decided to go to Palm Springs a day early. Maybe he could figure some things out for himself before Angel showed up.

*****

Angel sat at his desk, brooding, for lack of a better word. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. Wesley had spoken to Giles earlier about the string of brutal murders they were investigating.

There was something familiar about it, but he could quite place it. The murder itself wasn't really that shocking. It had occurred in Sunnydale, and as much as he hated to see innocent souls die in such a fashion, he knew that such things happened every day. Eventually the evil would make its way to the mouth of Hell. There was no other way around it.

Even so, there was something about this particular case which was screaming at him, although he wasn't entirely sure what. He tried to think back to see if he had run across anything similar in his past. But the fact was, aside from the sheer brutality of the act, there was nothing remarkable about the crimes.

There wasn't any kind of trademark that would signify the attacker. There were no symbols, no markings, nothing that would tell them who had perpetrated these acts. And yet, he still knew that there was something he was missing.

"Hey." Cordelia popped her head into his office. "The other paper just got here. You want to read it, or should I stick it in the pile with the rest?"

Angel smiled at his friend. She had been somewhat distant lately which he could only assume was due to his consistent foul mood.

"Bring it here." Angel held out a hand for the newspaper Cordelia was holding. "You can go ahead and go home. It's late."

Cordelia nodded and retreated the outer office to grab her purse and jacket. She knew that Angel was having a hard time recently. She knew about his visits to palm springs, and while she didn't know exactly what went on there, she knew it wasn't all champagne and roses. She wanted to do something to help, but since Angel wouldn't talk to her, there wasn't much she could do. So she waited, and hoped that eventually, Angel would open up to her.

*****

Angel sighed needlessly as he opened the paper. The Palm Springs Reader. Nothing very exciting usually. He wasn't even really sure why he had started getting the paper. He told himself it was just so he could keep an eye on things. He only spent six days a month there, and most of that time was spent inside, so he told himself the newspaper was his way of seeing what was going on around him. However, he also admitted, to himself, that it was more like that that the newspaper served as some sort of connection between his life with Xander and the rest of his existence.

He wanted so much for the two things to come together. He wanted Xander with him, away from Sunnydale, and all the things that fueled the boy's anger. He wanted to take away the things that frightened him or made him lash out. Although Angel knew, probably more than anyone else, that the darkness, which was released on their weekends together, was ingrained into Xander's very soul. It wasn't something you could get rid of. Nor was it something he wanted to get rid of.

He loved Xander, from the goofy parts to the darkest part of his soul, and everything in between. However knowing he loved him, and accepting that only made his situation that much more depressing. He knew that it wasn't about love, not for Xander, and it probably never would be.

Angel sighed as he remembered this past month. Things had been getting steadily worse. It all started with that weekend where Xander had been late. He had come in, dirty and covered in someone else's blood. Then the next day, Xander had returned, stinking of someone else.

Angel's demon had roared at the violation to his claim. Although he had never really claimed Xander, that would have proven that what he felt went far beyond sex. But the very idea that Xander had been thrusting into some one else, drove him over the edge. He had lost his temper, he realized, but at the time he didn't care.

Their next weekend together had gone differently, although not necessarily better. Xander had disappeared during the daylight hours, only to return for a hard fucking, and then Angel would disappear. It was a pattern. A pattern that was becoming all too familiar, and Angel didn't like it. He wanted to change things. To scream at the boy that they could have so much more. But the fear that Xander would walk out always kept him from saying anything.

Angel sighed heavily as he looked down at the newspaper. An article on the front page caught his attention.

'Still no news in the brutal slaying of a local boy. According to local authorities he was brutally raped before being killed. Exact details of the murder have not been disclosed.

What worries the authorities is that this is the third such murder in as many weeks.'

Angel read and re-read the passage. There was something hauntingly familiar about the case. He didn't know what, and quite honestly was afraid to ask. He stood up and grabbed his jacket.

Angel walked down to his car in the parking garage, his head a swirl of jumbled thoughts. He knew that Xander would be coming to Palm Springs until the following day. Maybe that would give him time to sort through his thoughts, and find out some more about these murders.

*****

Xander grinned as he watched the body slide to the ground. He watched as the dead eyes stared up at the bare walls in front of him. Frowning as he realized he'd gotten some blood on their pristine walls. Shaking his head at the site, he looked back down to the dead body at his feet. He'd better do something with that. The smell would get to be annoying after a little while.

He didn't even know why he had chosen to bring this victim into the house. He was no different than any of the others, although he had died quickly in comparison. He had just felt the desire to take this one to the house that he shared with Angel. Even in his present state, he wasn't sure if it was some subconscious desire to show his vampire lover that he didn't rule him. That he did what he wanted, where he wanted.

None of that mattered now. The evil, which had routed itself in his very soul, knew that it wasn't yet time to reveal itself. But soon, he would no longer be repressed. Soon, it would be too late to be controlled.

Xander cackled as he swung the dead body over his shoulder, intending to dispose of the evidence.

******

Willow was leaning against the couch snuggled in a blanket when Spike returned to the apartment. She looked up at his scowl and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Spike looked at her carefully. "I have some bad news, pet."

Willow sat up straighter. "It's him, isn't it?" She gulped heavily. She had spent several hours thinking over the different aspects of the murders, and had come to a startling realization.

Spike pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, baby, I think so."

"What are we going to do?"

"I called Peaches." Spike started rubbing her arms, feeling the shiver in her body. "He must've already left. All I got was the blasted machine."

"We have to help him, Spike. We have to." Willow turned around, her eyes pleading with his.

"We will, Luv, we will. Even if we have to lock him up until we can figure out what's happened."

"What did Willy tell you?" She asked quietly, almost afraid to know.

Spike snorted. "Nothing. But I did find one of those demon's who attacked us."

"They did this to him?" Willow asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "They turned him into a killer?"

"Shh, baby." Spike kissed her tears away. "They didn't do this. The demon I spoke to said that it was already there. They just released it."

"No! I will not believe that Xander was always a killer."

"No, not always, pet. But he has changed. The demon that night said his soul was dark. What if he was possessed, before the attack, and the demon just brought it out in him?"

*****

Angel entered the house and froze. The cloying smell of death and sex was heavy in the air. He made his way through the house, looking for any sign of its source. He passed through each room, and was met with its usual emptiness. When he reached the spare bedroom, he stopped dead. The room itself was as empty as usual, but there was a feel in the room, and the smell was strongest here.

His demon railed at what had happened here. Partially because there was death and it hadn't participated, and partially because it's mate had been with another. Pushing his demon aside, Angel, slid to the floor. His mind screaming at him, telling him what he now knew was true. Xander, his Xander had killed those people.

He had brutally raped and butchered over a dozen people.

That thought alone drove him. He wanted to be sick, but he just didn't have it in him. Instead he sat on the floor of the room and waited for Xander to return. They had to talk. Things could not continue they way they were, not anymore.

*****

Xander leaned his head against the side of the house. He needed to think. To figure out what was happening to him, before he went insane. He'd had another blackout, he knew something had happened, but he didn't know what.

The last thing he remembered was stopping at a gas station on his way to Palm Springs, and then nothing until he woke up half a block from the house he and Angel 'shared', wearing different clothes than he had on earlier.

He wasn't covered in dirt, or other things, like when he normally had a blackout. But, even so, he knew something had happened. He could just feel it. He was thankful Angel wouldn't show up until the following night. Maybe he could get some stuff figured out before then.

Straightening up, Xander made his way into the house. He froze when he saw Angel standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly waiting for him.

"What are you doing here?" Xander asked harshly, slipping back into the attitude he seemed to use so often when speaking to Angel. Anything to mask how he really felt about the vampire.

Angel forced himself not to flinch at the tone. "We need to talk."

Xander moved further into the room. "No, we don't. We don't talk. We fuck, in case you've forgotten."

Angel growled. "No, I haven't forgotten, but since you've gotten a new playmate, I assumed you had."

Xander stared at Angel in shock, momentarily frozen. "I don't know what you're talking about, Deadboy. And I don't really care." He started to move down the hall of the house but was stopped by an iron grip on his arm.

"You can't even be honest. Do I mean that little?" Angel asked, disgusted with himself for falling in love with Xander.

At that moment he didn't care about the people he believed the boy had killed, or about the fact that he knew you couldn't choose who you fell in love with. All he cared about was the fact that Xander had been with someone else, at least twice, and wasn't even going to be honest about it.

Xander stopped and stared at the hand on his arm. Something inside of him railed at the touch, while at the same time he wanted so badly to tell Angel he meant more to him than the vampire would even know. Instead he just looked at Angel and spoke coolly. "I. Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About. Is that clear enough for you?"

Angel spun him around and pushed him against the wall near the hall. Pressing his body close to the mortal, he inhaled deeply, taking in his lover's scent. He smelled of death, and sex, and something infinitely darker.

"I can smell it on you. Sex. and death, Xander. You can't lie to me. Not about this."

Xander pushed him away, surprised by his own strength as Angel went tumbling backwards. He glared at the vampire for a long minute before speaking.

"Fuck off. We aren't friends, we aren't family. We aren't even lovers." He looked into Angel's dark eyes, glittered with gold flecks. "There is no love in what we do. There never has been, and there never will be." He turned around and walked out the door without a second glance.

*****

Angel stared after his love as he disappeared from his site, and from his life. He didn't know what was going on, and for a second, he had seen confusion in Xander's eyes. That momentary glimpse had led him to believe that whatever was going on, maybe Xander didn't know about it either.

He sighed heavily and walled to his car. Once seated in the driver's seat, he pull his cell phone off charge and began dialing a familiar number. He didn't know what was going on, but perhaps someone else would.

After several rings, a familiar voice picked up the line.

"Hello?" Willow asked into the phone.

"Willow?" Angel asked, hoping he had made the right decision in calling.

"Angel! Oh thank goddess you called!"

"What is it?" He asked. He was afraid something else had happened.

There was the sound of someone taking the phone from willow before the familiar accented voice spoke. "Peaches, we've got a problem."

As Spike began to fill Angel in on what he had found out, Angel's mind began to formulate a theory. It wasn't one he was altogether pleased with, but at least it was an explanation for what had been going on both here in Palm Springs, and in Sunnydale. And if what he believed had happened, then Xander wasn't entirely to blame, although he knew that would be of little comfort to his lover.

After hanging up the phone, he started the engine to the car and waited as the garage door came up. He pulled away from the house and drove down the street. He wanted to get to Sunnydale as soon as possible. He had to find Xander, before something else happened.

****

Xander made it to Sunnydale in record time. Sometimes have a motorcycle came in handy. He thought about what Angel had said on the entire drive there. Each time he heard Angel's words in his head, he just became more agitated. He hadn't known what Angel was talking about.

He wanted to believe that Angel was lying, or wrong. But he knew that he was right. He had been with someone else, maybe more than once. The idea made him ill. Even though his relationship with Angel was based on sex, his feelings for the vampire had grown into much more since that first night. And now, it was over.

Angel would probably go back to Los Angeles and never see him again.

He felt his anger flare as he pulled into the parking lot of his parents house. He wanted to know what was happening to him. Why he was having blackouts and doing things he couldn't remember. Why he always came out of them dirty, and feeling trapped. Why he couldn't control his anger anymore. Why he no longer wanted to.

He climbed off his bike and started towards the house when he heard his dad shouting at his mom. Shaking his head he changed his direction and started walking down the street.

He had made it through half of the cemetery, lost in his own thoughts when he heard the sounds of a fight not too far away. He followed the sound, and was unsurprised when he found Buffy fighting a newly risen vampire.

Tonight she was alone. Riley must have been home, doing whatever it was corn-fed Iowa boys did when they were away from the supernatural girlfriends. Xander, not wanting to deal with the Slayer turned to leave. She must have seen him, because a few seconds after he had turned away, he heard her following him.

"Xan! Wait up!" Buffy called as he picked up the pace. She didn't notice he was trying to get away.

"Xander!" She screamed at him.

The sound grated on his nerves at he put a hand to his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. His mind was feeling hazy and he suddenly knew he was going to black out again soon.

"Buffy, go away." He told her, afraid of what would happen.

Buffy ran up to him. "No. I want to know what you're doing out here all on your own."

Xander shook his head trying to clear his mind. Suddenly, everything became clear. He sniffed the air, smelling the scent of blood. He looked Buffy over carefully.

"You're cut." He said with a slight smirk.

Buffy looked down to her arm. "It's a scratch." She looked back up at Xander who was staring at her with this strange expression on his face. It seemed oddly familiar.

Xander took a step closer to her. "You smell.." He grinned maniacally, "Putrid, Buff. You really should shower more." He stepped away from her, not wanting to be too close.

"Xander!" Buffy stared at him incredulously. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked. Xander's expression didn't change. "I know you're lonely and all, and probably need to get laid, but no need to be nasty." She shook her head at him.

Xander laughed. "Yeah, I need to get laid, that's it. 'Cause Angel just isn't giving me what I need." He leant forward just a bit. "He is a good fuck though, isn't he, Slayer?" Laughing again, Xander turned around and started walking away.

Buffy, stunned for a minute, ran after him. "What did you say?"

Xander stopped but didn't turn around. "I asked you if Angel was a good fuck. I find him. acceptable, but then, I like things rough." He turned around and stared into her eyes. She gasped at the darkness she saw in his.

"So, Slayer, how's it feel to know that your honey prefers my ass over you're. parts.

Buffy shook her head. "No, you lie!" She couldn't believe her friend was speaking to her like this, so angry. She felt her own anger at the way in which he was lying about her old love. She reached out and slapped him hard across the face. He didn't even flinch.

Xander steeped forward, his eyes locked with hers as he placed a hand against her cheek. He trailed his nails across her throat. "You know, the neck is a sensuous place. It the first place they want to touch you. It's where they want to sink their fangs in and claim you. It can be heaven." He paused, "but for you, it'll be the last place you're ever touched."

Without another word, and moving faster than Buffy could have thought was possible, Xander placed his other hand along her collarbone, holding her in place, as he gripped her head in his other head. The last sound she heard was the snapping over her own neck.

Xander felt the corpse fall to the ground and was overcome with a wave of dizziness. He slumped on top of the cooling body of someone he had once called friend, but who was now just another in a long line of victims.

****

Xander woke up with a groan. His body was contorted in such a way that he could feel the crick starting in his neck. He kept his eyes closed, almost afraid of what he'd find when he opened them. He knew he had had another blackout and he didn't want to know what had happened. She shifted his body slightly and moaned. He could feel something under him. At first he thought it was a large rock or boulder of some sort, but then he realized it was entirely too soft to be stone.

Opening his eyes carefully he maneuvered himself away from what ever it was. He rolled to his side until he could feel the grass beneath his clothes. He lay there, staring up at the sky, afraid to turn his head and see what it was he had been lying on top of.

After several excruciatingly long seconds, he forced himself to turn his head. He gulped. It was a body. A girls body. There was something familiar about it, but at its angle he could be sure. He crawled closer, not wanting to know if it was someone he knew, but needing to know at the same time.

When he was kneeling over her, he moved her arms to the side, rolling her from her side, so that she was lying on her back. Xander stared into her eyes. The eyes of someone he had known for four eyes.

The eyes of someone he had called friend. The eyes of someone he had killed.

"Oh God." He continued to stare at her as he could feel the bile rise in his throat.

Images kept flashing in his mind. Images of things, violent, horrid things. Things he had done. People he had killed. Tortured, maimed, raped, and utterly violated. The images kept coming. One right after the other, in gruesome detail. He remembered. He remembered it all.

The way they looked when he had had them trapped. The smell of fear when they realized that they were going to die. The exquisite pleasure in watching their bodies give out under his torture. The relief he had felt as he watched Buffy's body fall to the ground. That was almost worse than what he had done to the others. They were nameless, faceless people. She was a friend.

He felt ill. He had done horrible, despicable things, and he hated himself for it. But what was worse was, there was some part of him, deep inside that reveled at the emotion these acts had invoked. That lived for the torture, got off on the pain. That part of him rattled inside him, wanting to be free to kill again.

Xander stood up on shaky legs. He had to get out of here. He had to do something. Lock himself up, end this madness, before anyone else was hurt. He ran. He didn't know where he was running to or if he would ever stop running. Maybe if he ran far enough, and fast enough, he could block out the memories of their screams. The memory of what he had done.

******

Angel pounded on the door heavily, aggravated when it took longer than a minute to open the door.

"Where is he?" He demanded when Spike opened the door.

Spike stepped aside, biting off the snide rude comment on the tip of his tongue. He knew his sire was upset about what they had learned. T hey all were.

Willow looked up in alarm as Angel came rushing into the house. "Xander? He isn't here. You don't think.?"

"We have to find him." Angel started pacing around the livingroom.

Willow watched her friend wearing a whole in her livingroom and felt her heart breaking at the site. It was obvious that the ensouled vampire was in love with Xander. If he hadn't been, he wouldn't been in such agony now.

"We'll find him." He told him softly as she grabbed her coat. "Let's split up."

Spike nodded and threw on his duster, following her out of the house.

"Thank you." Angel spoke softly, knowing that Spike could hear him.

Spike stopped just outside the front door. He turned back to Angel. "We'll find him, Sire." He hesitated, not sure what else to say. Eventually he just shook his head and continued walking.

Angel walked outside a moment later, running in the opposite direction of where Willow and Spike had gone. He wasn't sure where to begin looking, but he knew he had to find him.

Xander was in pain. He wasn't sure how exactly he knew that. He just did. He had to find him and stop whatever torment he was in. He just wanted to erase it all and make sure nothing ever hurt him again, although he knew that was impossible.

Angel had realized, in the drive over that whatever was happening to his lover was beyond his control. That he probably didn't even realize he was doing the things he was. That he didn't even remember the crimes he had committed. But he also knew that eventually he would remember, and when he did, there was no telling what the man he loved would do.

Would he embrace the darkness, and continue to kill? Would he try and fight the evil within him? Or, would he give up, and try and stop what he had become? Would he end his own life? The last thought frightened Angel more than he wanted to admit.

Angel didn't know where he should start looking; he didn't even know which direction he had been headed until he found himself in the cemetery. He slowed his pace slightly, not wanting to miss some clue as to whether Xander had been there. He knew he wasn't there now. The graveyard was silent. There was no sound of life anywhere.

Feeling his face shift, Angel extended his senses, hoping to see something, anything that would tell him where his love might have gone. That's when he saw it. In the distance there was a body, slumped on the ground. He knew it was dead, had been for at least an hour. He walked cautiously towards it.

He felt his stomach turn when he saw the blond hair lying limply against the still form. He knew it was her. Buffy, the Slayer. He knew she was dead. He knew Xander had killed her.

He felt ill. But not for the reasons one might think. He wasn't shattered by the loss of someone he had once had deep feelings for. He wasn't crying blood tears because this girl, who fought the forces of darkness so willingly, had died. No, he cried because it was Xander who had killed her. It wasn't the act that wounded him, but the knowledge of what this would do to his lover once he realized what he had done.

Angel bent down and closed her eyes. "Oh Buffy." He said quietly. "Why did it have to be you?"

He stood up quickly, now in even a bigger hurry to find his lover. He knew this act, more than any of the others would shatter Xander. He felt Xander's pain, down to his very soul, and knew that his love had remembered.

He couldn't explain where this knowledge came from, only that it was true.

Leaving the cemetery, Angel found himself running down the empty Sunnydale streets, not even really sire which direction he was going. His body seemed to move of its own accord, seemingly knowing where it was going, even if the rest of him didn't.

He stopped on the edge of Crawford Street, and in an instant he knew where he'd find his love. The only place he would run when he was hurt and in pain. To the only place he had ever felt safe that first year.

Angel walked up to the door and opened it quietly, not wanting to startle him.

The room was dark, no lights were turned on, and all the candles were burnt out. However, it wasn't filled with dust, as Angel would have thought. Obviously someone came here on a regular basis. For a moment, Angel feared this was where Xander had taken his victims, but the air was clear. He didn't smell death or sex in the air.

As he walked further into the room, he saw Xander huddled on the floor. He was crouched in a corner, shaking with the force of his sobs, his arms wrapped around his body in an effort to block everything out.

"Xander?" Angel called softly. He could see the body on the ground tense.

Xander raised his head slightly, so that his eyes, red and bloodshot were staring through the darkness at Angel. "I killed her." He whispered hoarsely.

"I know." Angel knelt on the ground in front of the boy. "It's okay. Everything will be alright."

Xander looked at him incredulously. "No, it won't be!" He stood up, his tears were forgotten as a rage enveloped him.

"It will never be alright. Not ever again." He hissed, walking away from the vampire. He needed to get away from him. Something inside of him recognized Angel for what he was, and it frightened him. He couldn't deal with his unrequited feelings for Angel on top of everything else. He couldn't face the fact that whatever evil was inside of him recognized Angel, and his demon as its mate.

Angel didn't know what to say. He knew Xander was right. Things would never be the same again. He watched him walking away from him and felt a fear run through him. His demon railed at the idea of losing him again. He reached out a hand and grabbed his arm before he could get too far away.

Xander stopped and spun around looking at the vampire, his eyes narrowed on the hand on his arm. He wanted to stay, to be comforted by him, but at the same time he knew that he was only doing it to keep him from killing, and that bothered him. He was not Angel's pet project. His latest soul to save.

He wrenched his arm away and began backing away. "Leave me alone." He snarled.

"No." Angel's voice was steady, but there was something reflected in his dark eyes that Xander couldn't read.

"Why?" The question was a simple one, and one Xander really wanted the answer to.

"Why what?" Angel was confused by the calm way in which Xander spoke to him. Gone were the tears from earlier. Gone was the attitude he usually received from Xander. All that was left was the sincere desire to know.

Xander stepped forward and walked around the vampire. He stepped over to the fireplace. "This was where it all started. Do you remember that night?"

Angel looked at him in confusion. Why was he changing the subject? He nodded? "Yes."

"Do you regret it?"

"Sometimes." Angel told him truthfully.

"So, I ask again, why? Why do you care? What does it matter whether I walk out of here right now? What difference does it make if I disappear?" He turned and locked eyes with the vampire. "Is it just because I could kill again? Am I another lost soul for you to save in your path to redemption?"

"No." Angel couldn't manage more than that one word. Xander's questions were bringing out emotions he had tried to block out for so long.

"Then what? What am I to you? Why do I matter?" Xander's voice faltered slightly, but his gaze never did.

Angel could see the emotions in the mortal's dark eyes. He could see the fear, and hope and need to know all mixed in there, along with something he could bare to identify, for fear that he was wrong. He stepped forward slightly, knowing the next words out of his mouth would change everything.

"Because. I love you."

******

Willow and Spike walked dejectedly back to their house. They had been searching most of the night for their friend, and hadn't found any sign of him. Spike had decided to concentrate the search on one end of the town, knowing that Angel was searching the other side. He knew he sire would be searching thoroughly, so they odds that he missed him would be unlikely.

However after several hours, with no luck, the couple decided to check the other end of town as well. That had had no luck, and decided to make a pass through one of the last cemeteries when they had heard a commotion, coming from the very cemetery they were entering.

They didn't want to get to close and risk answering any question, but from what they could determine another body had been found. They didn't know who it was, or how they had died, but both the witch and the vampire knew their friend was responsible.

With the police searching the area and the approaching dawn, the couple was forced to return to their house, without a clue as to where Xander or Angel had gone, or the condition of the latest body.

"Do you think Angel found him?" Willow asked quietly as she sat down at the kitchen table, resting her head on the smooth surface.

"I hope so, Luv. It won't be pretty if me sire 'asn't found him by the time the sunrise comes."

Willow looked up at her lover sharply. "You don't think. he wouldn't?"

Spike shrugged. "If he hasn't found him, he won't stop, not even for the sun."

"That's crazy!" Willow shook her head and walked over to the phone. She was about ready to pick it up when it rang.

Willow stood there, staring at it for a long minute before picking it up. "Hello?" She asked shakily.

"Willow?" A familiar British voice asked. "What are you doing at Spikes?"

Willow handed the phone to Spike not wanting to explain her presence in what was now her home to the clueless watcher.

"Mate?" Spike asked into the line.

"Spike?" Giles asked, growing confused. He could have sworn willow had answered the phone. Maybe he was just hearing things.

"What?" The blonde vampire asked tiredly. He was not in the mood for some catastrophe. He already had one to deal with.

"There's been. another murder." Giles hesitated slightly.

"I know." Spike told him with a needless sigh.

"It was Buffy." Giles choked the name out.

"What?" Spike turned to look at Willow. She was watching him with curiosity and a slight touch of fear. It wasn't often Giles called their house, so she knew it had to be important especially at this time in the morning.

"Buffy. she didn't check in after patrol. her body was found in the cemetery." Giles sounded near tears.

"Mutilated?" Spike asked.

"No. Her neck was broken."

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. He personally didn't care how the bitch had died, but if she had been killed like the others, the three people in this town he did care about wouldn't take it very well, especially since he was positive one of them had been responsible.

Giles paused for a moment, unsure of why exactly he was calling Spike. He knew there was no love loss between his Slayer and the vampire, who reluctantly helped them on occasion. As his mind started to clear he remembered something.

"Do you know how to reach Xander?"

"Why?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"I..... I don't want him finding out about this from some stranger." Giles told him with a weary sigh. "Willow, and Xander are. were very close to Buffy."

Spike had to hold back his snort.

"Can you locate him?" He paused a second. "You'll tell willow? That was her voice earlier, correct?"

"Yes, mate. I'll tell them."

"Good. Thank you." Giles hung up the phone, leaving Spike will the chore of telling Buffy's friends about her death.

Spike stared at his phone for a second and then hung it up and sat down on the couch motioning for Willow to join him.

"What is it? What's happened?" She asked nervously as she sat down.

Spike wrapped his arms around her tightly as he whispered in her ear. "The body in the cemetery. It was Buffy."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "Oh Goddess. Xander." She turned to look at him. "What are we going to do?" She asked quietly. "Xander won't be able to deal with this alone."

Spike smiled into her hair, marveling at how her concern was still for her friends welfare and not for the loss of the Slayers life.

"He won't be alone pet. He has Peaches. And you, and me."

Willow turned to look at him. "Angel, won't he be upset, about Buffy. She was his.... soul mate?" The way she spoke the words clearly showed that she herself was unsure of the truth of them.

Spike shook his head. "Peaches concern now, as it has been for the past two years is for Xan. They'll get through this." He kissed her gently on the lips.

Standing up, Spike brought Willow to her feet. "Come on, you need some sleep. When the sun sets, we'll go an find them, and make sure everything's okay."

Willow nodded and followed him in their bedroom. She hoped that Angel had found Xander and that they were going to be okay.

*****

Xander stared at Angel, certain he had misunderstood him. "What?" He asked quietly.

"I love you. I won't let you deal with this alone."

Xander turned away from him, not wanting to deal with the fact that after all this time, Angel was telling just what he wanted to hear, but now it was too late. "I killed those people. Butchered them. I killed Buffy." He whispered the last part.

"I know." Angel stepped closer to him, slowly so as not to frighten him.

"You must hate me. I killed her. She was. you loved her." Xander turned to face Angel but didn't look into his eyes.

"I don't hate you. Not that night when you came to me, here. Not a few weeks ago when you showed up late, and not now." He moved closer. "You did kill her, but it wasn't you're fault. This isn't your fault." He closed the gap between them and placed a hand on Xander's cheek forcing him to look at him. "I love you. I have for a long time. Nothing will change that. Nothing."

Xander stared into Angel's soulful brown eyes and blinked his tears away. He was divided. He wanted so badly to believe Angel's words, but at the same time he knew they couldn't be true. "No. It's too late. Much too late." He pulled away from the vampire. He ran towards the door, wanting to get away.

Angel reached him just as the door opened. "Don't." He tried to move in front of Xander, to keep him from leaving, but the morning sun prevented him from being altogether successful.

Xander stopped momentarily but then continued to walk out the door.

Heedless of the burning rays, Angel reached out a hand to stop him and wailed in pain as his hand caught fire.

"Angel!" Xander hissed, pushing the vampire out of the way of the sunshine. Angel grabbed the burnt limb and looked it over carefully. It was pretty charred but with Angel's healing abilities it would be as good as new soon. He looked into his lover's eyes. "Why?"

"We can deal with this." Angel stared pleadingly at Xander. "Don't go. Please."

Xander stepped back. "It's better this way. You'll see." He traced a path along his cool flesh and bent forward to give him a kiss.

Xander's tongue tasted Angel's lips, gently begging for entrance. When Angel opened his mouth, Xander swept his tongue inside, memorizing the feel of the cool mouth beneath his. The kiss was nothing like any of their previous kisses. This one wasn't about need and hungry, and a desire to release the beast within. This one spoke of tenderness and love. Xander tried to express all of his feelings in the one moment, knowing he would never get another chance.

He pulled away and smiled sadly. "I love you. Never forget that. Goodbye." He turned and walked out of the door, and where Angel couldn't follow.

Angel watched him leave and felt his legs give out beneath him. He knew that this was it. This was the end. He knew where Xander was going and what he was going to do. And worse than knowing that was knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He fell to the ground and wept blood red tears, his unbeating heart shattering beneath his chest.

*****

Xander's body moved of it's own accord. He couldn't think, couldn't feel anything. The memories of what he had done kept bombarding his brain until the point where he had just shut down.

He wasn't really consciously aware of where he was going or what he would do once he got there. But at the same time, he knew what he had to do. He knew that he couldn't continue like this. He couldn't keep hurting people. Hurting Angel. He couldn't bear to be cause of anymore pain, and he knew he had caused the vampire pain.

He picked his pace, the ground moving swiftly under his feet. He needed to get away. To run. To hide. To end the pain. He knew he was weak, and for once he didn't care. He kept hearing Angel's softly spoken words inside his head. The feel of his lips as they had kissed tenderly for the first time, the last time.

They had run out of time. It no longer mattered that he had waited for so long to hear the words escape Angel's lips. It no longer mattered that he had waited to long to speak his own feelings allowed. All that mattered now that it was too late. Time had run short. They had wasted so much of it, and now all that stood before them was the death.

God. So much death. So much pain. He could feel it trembling within his body as he remembered the screams, the torture he had inflicted. The delicious way he had enjoyed it.

He was so much worse than Angelus. He was so much worse than any of the demons they had fought. He was evil, in its purest form. He could feel it, even now, amidst his grief and terror, he could feel the hunger. The desire to kill again. The need to sate the evil within.

His whole being reverberated with the knowledge that he was losing his control. Even remembering what he had done, knowing the evil he was capable of, he couldn't squash the desire. He didn't have the strength to fight back.

Xander halted, no longer as eager to reach his destination. He looked around, searching for something, anything that would sate this driving need. He sniffed the air slightly, some scent assailing him. He followed it.

He wasn't sure what or whom the scent belonged to, only that he needed something and it would provide it to him. He started to run, this time towards the center of town. His hunger drove him further.

It wasn't until he stood on the edge of the park that he knew where exactly he had come, and what waited for him inside. He walked through the grace towards the playground.

It was early still, and only a few children had come out to play. He watched them with hungry eyes; taking in their innocence, knowing that they had no idea what fate might await them living in this town. No idea that they might very well die soon. Maybe in ten years, maybe next week, maybe today.

He took a seat on one of the stone benches, just watching, waiting. He sat there for hours, watching the children playing. Watching as a few left and even more came. There was something about the constant thrum of energy in the place. Something which spoke to him. Something, which the evil inside of him wanted to feast on, possess.

"Hey, mister." A small voice spoke.

Xander turned his head slightly. The child was no more than seven or eight and was looking at him with these deep brown eyes. He grabbed the boy and held him fiercely in his iron grip, his hands causing the young boys wrists to bruise. He could feel the fear inside the child as he whimpered.

Xander looked into the face once more and stared intently at the wide eyes, laced with terror.

Xander grinned evilly as he removed one hand and traced the boys cheek. After a moment, Xander scowled and pushed the boy away. "Run." He barked.

The boy didn't need to be told twice and ran as far away as possible. Xander watched him go with something akin to disgust. He stood up and left the park. Once out on the street once again, Xander looked up at the sky. It was a pale pink, signaling the suns descent.

He began to return to his earlier path, when suddenly stopped and changed direction. He walked at a brisk pace until he reached Crawford Street. A force he could no longer control drove him. Something he didn't even want to acknowledge.

Entering the house, Xander walked through the dark hallways, searching. He passed by room after room, each one a pile of destruction. Furniture toppled, bedding shredded, pieces of glass where small little mementos had been.

Xander knew Angel was still here, he could feel him. There was so much anger, and frustration, and pain, great pain mingled in. The air was charged with the emotions.

Xander didn't want to analyze what it was that had driven him to return, knowing that to do so would most probably cause him to change his mind. And at this moment, he needed to see him, to speak to him. He needed what only Angel could give him.

When he reached the bedroom at the end of the hall, Xander hesitated at the door, afraid of what he'd find on the other side. After a moment, he opened the door, peering into the darkness, using senses he didn't know he had to see into the inky blackness of the room.

The room itself had been torn apart. The bed's mattresses had been shredded and the drapes were barely hanging on. The room's bureau was turned onto its side, it's drawers broken and splintered. Xander could see the evidence of the vampires rage, as a rather large whole gaped back at him from one of the walls.

Angel was huddled on the floor in a still mass. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't moving either. Xander stepped closer and knelt down onto the carpet in front of his lover. There were red tear tracks along his cheeks, more evidence to the pain he was in. Xander placed a warm hand along his face and felt him tremble.

"Angel?" He asked softly. "I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely as he fell onto the ground and pulled the larger man into his arms. "What have I done? What have I become?"

There was silence for a long time before Angel spoke, and when he did, his voice was raw with emotion.

"You came back?" There was a hint of a question in the vampire's voice.

"I shouldn't have." Xander spoke quietly. "I should have just walked away."

"No." Angel shook with the force of the word. "Never. never leave me."

Xander was quiet for a long time. "I almost killed a child today, Angel. A child. I can't. I can't deal with this. this rage. This need to kill."

Angel sat up a little bit, turning his face to look into Xander's eyes. Eyes that were filled with both need and sorrow. "You have to." He placed a forceful kiss on Xander's lips.

Xander opened his mouth and sucked the invading tongue into his mouth, biting down slightly. He felt the slight trickle of blood in his mouth, sucking harder. Angel growled. Xander growled back, just before pushing the vampire away and standing up.

He began pacing around the destroyed room. "We can't do this anymore." He turned to look at Angel whose vampire visage was showing as he watched him through golden eyes.

"Fuck, Angel. I killed people. A lot of people. And you know the worst part? I want to do it again. I want to hear their screams. I want." He trailed off not knowing how to vocalize his thoughts.

"I know." Angel told him as his human mask slipped back into place. "You see them. the people. the victims, and you think how easy it would be to take their lives. to smell their blood, their death. to revel in their pain." He walked to Xander and pulled him into his arms. "But you can't." He whispered into his ear. "You don't really want to. You want to fight this. We can fight this. Together."

Xander looked into his lover's eyes, the honesty and depth of emotion showing there surprised him. He nodded slightly.

"Together."

End part 11