Xander approached his house cautiously. It was well past midnight and he was too tired to deal with his parents. The house was dark and he could almost feel the silence as if it was a tangible thing. However, he had scars that proved that a dark and silent house didn't necessarily mean his parents were asleep.

Just as he had reached the front door he heard a thump from somewhere upstairs. He didn't need to climb up to the roof to know that the sound had originated from his room. Whoever it was obviously new that he wasn't home. He had two choices. Either go inside and deal with whatever his parents had planned, or find somewhere else to stay and hope that when he returned home they were less drunk, or more passed out.

Xander sighed and turned around. He didn't even think about where he was going. He knew. It was the same place he had spent many nights away from home. Nights since Buffy had run away. Nights since Angel had disappeared. Nights since things had changed.

He walked briskly through the cemetery. Not because he was afraid of being attacked, but because he knew that Willow and Faith were still patrolling and he had no desire to explain why we was wandering around Sunnydale's streets instead of being safe in his own house. Although safety and his house didn't necessarily go hand in hand.

Taking a deep breath as he finally made it past the cemetery, he turned down Crawford Street and made his way towards the silent old mansion. He didn't know why he kept coming back here. Why he felt safe in this huge house, where just anyone could come in and kill him. This house, where everything had changed.

This was where he had last seen Buffy, fighting for her life, all their lives, against *him*. This was where he saw Angelus for the last time, knowing there was nothing he could have done. He couldn't have stopped him from opening Acathla, he couldn't have stopped Buffy from fighting him. He couldn't have even stopped him from being sent to Hell.

Although that last one was something that had taken him nearly all of the months since then to realize. He had made a mistake in not telling Buffy that Willow was trying the restoration. And he had done it for his own reasons. Not because Buffy was better off without him, or because Buffy wouldn't have been able to kill him if she had known. Not even because he hated him. That wasn't true. It never had been. Never could be.

The truth was he had kept quiet because he had needed to. He had known that there was nothing that could be done. Nothing that should be done. The night before the big fight between Buffy and Angelus had been the first night he had ever had the dream. It had been nothing but heat and pain then, and had he known what the dream was telling him, he probably would have done anything to prevent what would happen next. But he didn't, and he had done nothing to stop it. And that was something he had to deal with. Something he had dealt with.

After that night, Xander had believed that the nightmare, which had led to his painful decision, had been nothing more than a nightmare. Some fluke caused by the stress of months of avoiding Angelus. The months where the object of his fantasies had said and done things he couldn't bring himself to think about.

But a few weeks ago he had another dream. It was different than the first. More fire, less pain, but unlike the first, it came with a feeling of completion. Something he couldn't quite understand. Something he was afraid to analyze.

He hadn't been back to the mansion since then. He wasn't sure why exactly. They were just dreams. They meant nothing. Still, he didn't want a reminder of what had happened and how it couldn't be stopped. But now, he was here, again. And like every time previous, he felt safe here.

Xander opened the front door and stepped inside. The stillness of the room calmed him. The temperature was cool. Not the coldness you would expect from an abandoned building, but not the warmth of a place that had been lived in.

He found himself walking out into the garden, taking in the green plants, that grew wild, regardless of having no one to take care of them. The night was cool, and despite being the only one inside the house, he didn't feel alone. Not here.

Sitting down on one of the stone benches, Xander relaxed for the first time in what was probably days. He let his mind wander, not caring where it took him.

*****

Faith looked through the darkened cemetery, trying to see who it was that was following them, again. She had felt the presence every night for the past week, and on several occasions before that. Her Slayer senses told her it was a vampire, but there was something about the feeling, which told her whoever it was, had no intention of harming her, or any of her friends.

She turned to her companion. The redhead was talking about something that had happened in school that day. Telling her all about what she had done while Faith had been stuck in a training session with Giles.

"Faith?" Willow asked quietly, noticing the look on the Slayers face. "What is it?"

Faith turned to Willow and smiled. "Nothin'. What were you saying?" She turned her complete attention back to Willow as she felt the vampire move away from the shadows. Whatever reason he had for following them apparently had nothing to do with her.

Willow continued chattering, seeing her friend relax slightly. She knew that whoever had been in the shadows had disappeared. She didn't know who it was, or why she and Faith were the objects of their interest, but she wasn't overly concerned. If it was something evil, they would know soon enough, and if it wasn't, well they could never have too much protection on the Hellmouth.

*****

The figure standing in the shadows searched the darkness, looking for the reason it patrolled the cemetery, keeping to the shadows. The boy wasn't here though. Determining that his query had not patrolled with the girls that night, the figure left.

He went to the mortal boy's house, hoping to catch a glimpse. Hoping to see if he was all right. Almost hoping that he would be seen. That the boy would sense him just as the vampire sensed him. He knew that was a dangerous wish. Considering their history. Considering the way things had ended. But it was a desire he had nonetheless.

The closer he made it to the Harris house, the more positive the vampire was that Xander was not there. He heard the muffled sounds of an argument, of things being thrown around and felt his demon stir. He hated the fact that his mortal lived here, with people who had so little regard for a life they had created.

Shaking his rage off, the vampire made his way back to his own house. He entered the mansion in silence, feeling at home in the still, cool air that surrounded him. He lit a fire in the fireplace and stared at it, getting lost in the memories it brought forth.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, staring at the flames as they crackled. He was so lost in the memories, and the clarity they had brought him that he didn't feel the presence. It wasn't until he heard the voice that he realized he was not alone.

"You're back." Xander's voice was quiet, impossibly so.

Angel didn't turn around. "You don't seem surprised."

Xander thought about that for a second. "No, I guess I don't, do I?"

Angel turned around, seeing Xander up close for the first time in centuries. He couldn't speak, couldn't even began to know what to say, or where to start.

"Are you alright?" Xander asked carefully, his eyes the only sign that he cared one way or the other.

"Older. a little more charred." Angel trailed off.

Xander took a step closer to the vampire. He stared into those dark eyes and felt a sense of relief at what he saw there. Neither spoke for minutes, seeming to communicate everything non-verbally for what could have been mere seconds, or centuries. Neither knew. Neither cared.

Angel took a step closer, his body almost touching the mortal's. He bent his head and placed a kiss on Xander's lips, like he had wanted to do for centuries.

Time seemed to stop as Angel claimed Xander's lips, coaxing the boy's mouth opened. His whole body screamed in relief and pleasure when it did. There was no doubt, no hesitation, just acceptance.

When Xander pulled away to breathe he looked up at Angel. His dark eyes were sprinkled with gold flecks. "You're better now. Whole?"

It only took a second for Angel to understand his meaning. "Yes."

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