Angel watched the blood soak through Xander's T-shirt in shock. He saw the spreading liquid and swallowed heavily. The scent was strong, and had this been another time, another situation, he might have found it...enticing.

But this...this was all wrong.

Angel was stunned. Not just by the fact that apparently Xander had been willing to kill himself, but that he had done it, and Angel had done nothing to stop it.

Even now, though the scent of blood was strong, he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what it meant. Xander was dead. That was. he didn't know what that was; only that it couldn't possibly be real.

But apparently it was.

Xander's heart stopped beating and Angel felt the silence engulf him.

He moved slowly over what he couldn't quite come to grips was a body, and not a person.

How many bodies had he seen in his long life? Human bodies, demon bodies, some he had killed, some he hadn't, but this. this wasn't like any of them. This was worse.

Angel gently tore the blood soaked fabric away from Xander's chest, and removed the offending blade. He took the T-shirt and wiped what blood away from the wound that he could.

The wound in Xander's chest seemed incredibly small in comparison to the reality of what it meant. He stared at the gash, just over his heart, and watched as tiny amounts of blood continued to flow out.

He was still watching; stunned immobile to do anything else, when something happened.

There was a sound, a slight buzzing, almost like an electrical current. Then, Angel watched as the wound on Xander's chest began to repair itself. He could *see* the electrical current now, facilitating the closure of Xander's wound. Seconds later, he heard Xander's heart start to beat.

Then he gasped.

Xander was still mostly unconscious but he was undeniably alive.

Angel didn't know what exactly had happened, although he thought he had an idea, but he didn't have time to test his theory, yet.

The sun would be rising in a few hours, and he wanted to get himself, and Xander as far away as possible.

Angel didn't know if this sort of thing had happened before, or whether or not Xander knew, when he killed himself, that he wouldn't stay dead. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that whatever *this* was, it was the only thing standing between him, Xander, and bringing Xander home.

He knew that the moment Xander woke up, he'd still want Angel to go. He'd still insist he had no home to go to, and if Angel had any hope of convincing him otherwise, he'd needed to get him somewhere else; Somewhere safe for both of them, until they figured out exactly what was going on.

*~*~*~*

Xander opened his eyes to darkness. For one brief moment he thought he'd been buried alive.

But the movement beneath him belied that.

If he had to guess, Xander would say that he was in the trunk of Angel's car on the way to.. wherever. He tried to move around in the trunk, hoping he could maybe jump out when Angel slowed down.

That was not to be.

Angel had obviously thought ahead.

Xander's hands were cuffed tightly behind his back.

Before he could ponder anymore about what do about his current predicament, the car stopped.

Xander closed his eyes and listened. He heard a car door open and shut and the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel; then the sound of a key in a lock and the trunk was popped.

Angel leaned in and pulled Xander out of the trunk and hoisted him over his shoulder. Xander opened his eyes carefully and looked around. They appeared to be at a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Angel opened the cabin's front door and brought Xander inside. He put him on the bed and attached Xander's cuffs to one of the bed's posts. Xander appeared to be sleeping, but Angel wasn't fooled. He stared at Xander for a moment before speaking.

"I know you're not asleep."

Xander opened his eyes and looked around the cabin, avoiding Angel as much as possible.

There was a layer of dust covering everything, making it apparent that the place had been empty for awhile, at least a couple of years, maybe more.

"What is this place?" Xander finally asked.

Angel shrugged. "It was here when I came back" He looked around the cabin. "I was kind of crazed for awhile."

Xander rattled his cuffs against the bedpost. "What are you afraid of?"

"What are you?" Angel countered.

"Nothing." Xander said stubbornly, looking away.

"Bull." Angel walked out of the cabin and retrieved something from the car. When he had returned he held Xander's bloody T-shirt, and the knife blade. He tossed the items to the bed where Xander couldn't *not* look at them.

"You were willing to die to keep from going back."

Xander tried to shrug. "There's nothing to go back to.or for."

"Did you know this would happen?" Angel asked, letting Xander's statement stand, for now and referring to Xander's miraculous recovery.

"I must have missed." Xander tried to shrug again. "Guess I'm still a lousy shot."

"You didn't miss."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "I didn't? Care to explain how I'm still breathing then?"

"Care to guess?"

"I know you didn't turn me.hence the breathing."

"Maybe it has something to do with those guys you fought with a few nights ago." Angel suggested.

Angel had a feeling that although Xander may know more about what was going on than he let on, he probably didn't expect to survive a fatal stab wound.

"You mind being a bit more specific, Deadboy? I fight a lot of guys. Vampires, demons." He shrugged as best as he could, ignoring the fact that for Angel to have known about that he had to have been following him, for who knows how long. "You gonna let me loose?"

"No." Angel answered simply. "These guys weren't vampires or demons. They looked human."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Xander stated edgily. Whether his tension was from the mention of the mortals Xander fought or Angel's knowledge of them, the vampire couldn't be certain.

"I'm sure you do." Angel said calmly, stepping over to the bed. "After you decapitated them, there was a freak storm and you were electrocuted."

Xander swallowed noisily but refused to comment.

"Xander." Angel said quietly.

"What?" Xander hissed, his head snapping up and his dark eyes showing more emotion than he had shown so far.

"What do you want me to say? That I've killed a lot of people, demon and otherwise, since leaving Sunnydale? Well, I have. Do you want to know how many? Sorry, I don't have that number. Do you want me to say that I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of? Well, I can't tell you that. I can say I've done a lot of things I shouldn't be proud of. Things that should bother me, but.they don't. Nothing does, not anymore, probably never again." Xander stopped speaking for a second, suddenly out of steam. "Maybe now you see why I can't go back. Do yourself a favor, Deadboy, and leave."

"I don't think so." Angel said softly after a lengthy silence.

Xander chuckled humorlessly. "Oh? To which part?"

"To all of it." Angel replied. He looked across the short distance between them and continued speaking. "I'm going to release you now, but running won't do any good. Haven't you run enough? Haven't we both?"

Xander stared at the vampire, trying to read between the lines. He nodded once. "Fair enough."

Angel released Xander's bindings and watched him warily. Xander rubbed at his wrists, and leaned against the wall behind the bed and stared steadily at Angel. "I won't run."

Angel nodded. "We've all done things.. things we're not proud of." He said quietly as he locked eyes with Xander. "You and I are not so different."

Xander couldn't help the slight twitching of his lips, so he looked away. "I guess not." He mumbled.

"Tell me what happened." Angel commanded.

"You first." Xander countered.

Angel looked away, his gaze shifting to the small cabin. "One minute I was there.. in Hell. The next.. I wasn't." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I clawed my way out of a shallow grave about a mile away from here."

"You were buried?"

"Yeah. I have to say waking up that way once was more than enough.. but twice?"

"I bet." Xander grinned slightly. It wasn't his old grin, but it was something.

"I was.. crazed. I'm not sure how long I was holed up here before I began to sense the passing of time. It could have been days, weeks. or maybe months." He shrugged again.

"Do you remember Hell?" Xander asked cautiously.

"Yes. Time moved different there."

"How long were you.. there?" Xander asked stiffly.

"Over a thousand years." Angel whispered.

"How long?" Xander repeated, needing to know exactly how long Angel had been in Hell.

"Thirteen hundred years."

"For you."

"Yeah. For me."

"You went back to Sunnydale, eventually?"

"Yeah."

"When?" Xander asked, trying to figure out how much time had passed in the real world while Angel was in Hell.

"October, 1999."

"So.. you were.. gone.. for a year and a half?"

"Roughly."

"Willow and Cordelia?"

"They had already left. That's why I went to Los Angeles. I was looking."

"For Buffy?" Xander asked hesitatingly.

"You know who I was looking for."

"Maybe." Xander acknowledged. "Do you remember everything that happened.before?"

Angel didn't have to ask what Xander was referring to. "Yes. I remember. I know what I told you.. that night."

"Was it true?" Xander asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes."

"No." Xander shook his head. "No, it's not true. It wasn't true then and it isn't true now. It can't be."

"Why is it so hard for you to believe?"

"It just is."

"Why?" Angel pressed.

"I hated you." Xander admitted finally, quietly.

"Because I'm a vampire."

"No." Xander shook his head.

"Because of.Buffy?"

"No. I never wanted Buffy." Xander told him.

"Really?" Angel looked dubious.

Xander sighed. "Buffy was. well she was a lot of things." He paused for a second. "Do you miss her?"

"Not really."

Now it was Xander's turn to look dubious.

Angel shrugged. "It's been.. a really long time since I've seen her. I remember her, but.it was a long time ago.

"But you remember me." Xander pointed out.

"Yeah, I do." Angel said, looking across the short distance, his eyes saying more than his words did.

Xander looked away. "I hated what you were, but mostly I hated the fact that I didn't care what you were. I knew who and what you were. And I don't mean that you were a member of the walking dead." He stopped and looked up at the ceiling. "Buffy loved you, or thought she did. Didn't that mean anything? What kind of person did that make me.. thinking about you, in any capacity? It was just easier to hate you.

"She never got it, but that's okay." He paused, closing his eyes. "I wanted to die, that night. A part of me, hoped that Angelus.. that *you* would kill me, and I wouldn't have to exist anymore."

"But, I didn't."

"No. You didn't kill me. Instead you."

"I told you the truth."

Xander continued as if Angel hadn't interrupted. "You told me that.. that you loved me. The souled version of you anyway. and that it was the greatest cosmic irony that it was me who would be killing you. that that would be worth dying for. And then you laughed."

"Xander." Angel placed a hand on Xander's thigh, trying to convey something he couldn't with words.

"Don't." Xander hissed, pushing Angel away. "I ran away, like a coward, and didn't tell Buffy about the spell. I got you sent to Hell."

Angel sighed. He didn't know how many times he was going to have to tell Xander that he wasn't responsible before it sunk in. "Why didn't you? Tell Buffy." He asked, knowing that Xander wouldn't let this go until they could move past it.

"She couldn't kill you, not if she thought there was a chance, you.the one she loved would come back." Xander looked down at his lap as he continued. "I thought if she staked you, before you could open Acathla, then it would be better for everyone. It would be over. The world wouldn't end, Angelus would be gone, and I.. I wouldn't have to deal with what you told me.. whether it was true or not."

"But it didn't happen that way."

"No." Xander snorted derisively. "When I found out that you were sent to Hell. that she sent you to Hell."

"Did she tell you that Willow's spell worked?" Angel interrupted.

Xander looked up. "No. She knew?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah. She said goodbye before she shoved the sword through my heart.. before she sent me to Hell."

"She knew." Xander stood up and began pacing around the small room. "She never said anything." He shook his head. "I went to see her, afterwards. She was so angry. She had found out that I knew about Willow doing the spell, and didn't tell her. She blamed me. She thought that if she had known, she could have saved you."

"She couldn't." Angel said positively. "You did the right thing."

"I know." Xander said. "I did it for the wrong reasons, but it was the right thing to do. I know that. I knew it then."

"So why did you leave?"

"It was time." Xander sat down on the bed again. "It was way past time. But. I changed. Things happened and I stopped recognizing myself, then I stopped caring that I couldn't recognize myself. I became someone else. A killer." He looked up at Angel. "I can't go back. Not ever."

"You can't keep running."

"Angel." Xander sighed. "I'm not who I used to be. I'm.not sure what I am. Just go back to L.A."

"Not without you."

"I can't go back." Xander repeated.

"So, what, you continue, like this. fighting demons, vampires."

"Don't forget people." Xander reminded. "What kind of person does that make me, going around decapitating actual human people? And what happens afterwards. I don't understand it, I just know that for me, for them, it's kill or be killed. Willow wouldn't understand that. I wouldn't want her to." He placed a hand on Angel's shoulder. "I'll be okay."

"Willow's worried."

"I know."

"You should at least call."

"You call." He looked away uncomfortably. "Tell her you saw me. Tell her I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Angel observed.

"Then tell her I'm dead."

Angel seriously thought about that for a minute. He knew Xander was serious, and he wasn't entirely certain it was a bad idea. "You'd never be able to see her again."

"I know." Xander said seriously.

"You're okay with that?"

"It's better this way." Xander told him, knowing the truth of that statement.

Angel sighed. "Okay, I'll tell her you're dead.. on one condition."

"Which is?" Xander asked warily.

"Come with me."

"I just told you."

"Not to L.A."

"Where then?"

"Wherever."

"I don't think so, Deadboy." Xander stood up and moved towards the door. "Tell her whatever you think you have to, but I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Xander." Angel grabbed Xander's arm. "You're in trouble."

Xander sighed and closed his eyes. "I know, but."

"Why won't you let me help you?" Angel interrupted.

"It's too much, Angel."

"What's too much?" Angel asked quietly, filing away Xander's use of his name.

"You.. this.. everything. For so long, I've been alone."

"But you don't have to be. Not anymore."

"I know, but I need to remember who I am. who I was... before."

"And you can only do that alone." Angel stated, knowing exactly what Xander was trying to say, and hating it.

"Yeah." Xander looked at Angel's hand still on his arm. "I have to."

Angel gripped him tighter, nearly bruising. "If I let you walk out that door, how do I know you'll be back?"

Xander didn't answer right away and Angel had just about given up on getting a response when he felt Xander's lips move against his own. He opened his lips to Xander's tongue and sucked it inside. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and yet only lasted a second before Xander pulled away and rested his forehead against Angel's. "I'll be back."

Xander moved away from Angel and towards the door.

"What about those guys? The ones you killed.. will there be others?" He was still uncertain if his theory about that was correct, and he was unwilling to add to Xander confusion if he was wrong.

"There's always more." Xander smiled ruefully. "We'll figure it out.later. First I need to find myself. I need to remember who Xander Harris is."

Angel nodded, trusting Xander to do what he said he would.

"Goodbye Angel. Thank you."

Angel wasn't positive what he was being thanked for, but he thought he had a pretty good idea.

"Goodbye Xander Harris." He whispered as Xander walked out of the cabin.

It wasn't until much later that Angel allowed himself to smile.

Xander had said *we* in reference to finding out about who, or what those men were.

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