"NOOOOOO! Ohmygod! *Xander!*"



Xander looked down at the blood soaked scaly demon arm sticking out 
of the gaping hole in his chest and *felt* it's claws squeeze one of 
his various internal organs. In that very instant, time seemed to 
stop. His vision became crystal clear, as if his mind *knew* that 
this was his last moment of life and it didn't want to miss a single 
detail. 



Glancing up, he watched with a sense of detached curiosity as his 
best friend Willow's eyes filled with utter horror as she violently 
vomited on her own shoes. He saw Buffy go painfully pale and sway on 
her feet, and he idly wondered if she was going to faint in shock. 
But the sight that filled his swiftly fading vision was Spike. 



His sometime roommate was in full game-face and he was howling in 
inarticulate rage. With mindbending preternatural speed, the Master 
Vampire dashed across the darkened alley and *yanked* the reptilian 
demon off of him. The last thing Xander saw before everything faded 
to black, was Spike's vampiric features twist into a grimace of 
sorrow just as he toppled into the blonde's arms. 



Then the world disappeared.



###



He was dead.



He *knew* that he was dead. He clearly remembered the big ugly demon 
reaching into his chest and squeezing his insides in a painful and 
bloody manner. He could remember each detail with exact precision. He 
knew that Spike had pulled the demon off of, and coincidentally, 
*out* of him. He could also recall crumpling into his roommate's arms 
and breathing out his last breath.



He was, without argue, dead.



So why could he still think? Why could he recall who he was? 
Shouldn't there be angels with wings and halos? Or even devils with 
pitchforks and fangs? Not sure of the answers, Xander opened his eyes.



And found himself standing inside of a fantastical lightening storm. 
Blue-white bolts of jagged energy swirled around him, lighting the 
area for him to see. He was surrounded by the stuff as if he were the 
bell in a cats toy ball. Little by little, blue sparkling energy 
sizzled in between the dancing churning lightening bolts, effectively 
trapping him inside the energy ball.



Futilely he glanced around. 



That's when he noticed that he had changed. He was younger. He looked 
at the outfit he was wearing and the weapon in his hands. With a 
choked gasp, he threw the wooden stake down and frantically wiped his 
hand against the rough material of his jeans.



Tears sprang to his eyes as he realized that he was wearing the exact 
same outfit he'd been wearing the night he had staked Jesse. He 
seemed to be the right age too. On a closer examination, he found 
that he even ached in the very same spots he had *that* night. He 
didn't want to look to confirm it, but he was sure that he once again 
bore the bruises and scrapes that he'd gotten from his father's 
alcohol induced beating an hour before he'd gone out that very night.



Xander felt like crying. He didn't *want* to spend eternity in a 
blazing blue ball of lightening as the same kid who'd been neglected 
by his cocaine addicted mother, beaten and abused by his alcoholic 
and bitterly angry father, and pressured into increasingly illegal 
acts by his Uncle Rory. He didn't want to be the same kid who had 
been forced to kill one friend in order to save the life of another. 
Xander had expended a lot of time and effort to leave that guilt and 
fear and anger behind as he'd gotten older and he had *no* desire to 
go back to that now, or ever. 



Just as he was convinced that he really *was* in some bizarre corner 
of hell, movement caught his eye. Turning his head to look, he saw an 
older man slowly fade into view. Silently, Xander studied the 
increasingly visible man.



The guy was wearing threadbare army fatigues and was, as the saying 
went, armed to the teeth. His dark hair was cropped short and then 
covered with a camo bandana. His large frame was heavily muscled and 
he carried himself with the air of someone who was intimately 
familiar with violence and death... and wasn't afraid of either. 
However, it was his eyes that haunted Xander the most. Those dark 
orbs were filled with knowledge and pain and unending loss. They were 
the eyes of a man who had faced horrors untold and hadn't broken. For 
a moment, Xander felt as if he wanted to cry *for* this man... since 
he knew that the man would never cry for himself.



Then, more movement to his other side caught his attention. Turning 
to look, Xander watched as another being faded slowly into view. 
Right away, Xander knew that this one wasn't even human.



As the creature became clearer and more defined, Xander recognized it 
as a hyena. It was large and it's razor fangs dripped saliva as it 
raised it's maw and gave voice to it's laughing howl. He felt as if 
he could *almost* understand what it was trying to tell him. He was 
certain that the noises and sounds it made were not random, but a 
sort of animalistic speech. Waves of frustrated energy and the 
burning *need* to hunt rolled off of it and over Xander's 
consciousness.



In a dizzying swirl, Xander felt a spiritual connection being forged 
between the three of them. In a burst of light, three beams of 
sparkling, sizzling blue energy flashed, forging a glittering 
triangle with the three of them at the apex of each corner.



Resentful fear and heartbreaking loneliness from the hurt child. 



Cold anger and grim determination from the battle hardened solider. 



Aching hunger and unrepentant violence from the hyena. 



All of it twisted together inside of him. Becoming blurred as the 
boundaries between them smeared and then dissolved. The lines of 
energy became shorter and shorter, pulling the three of them closer 
and closer together. Then they were touching and still the energy 
bands pulled them inwards. Suddenly, with a painful snap of raw 
primal power, the three beings merged into one. 



Child became solider became hyena became child became Xander.



###



With a bone deep shudder of pain and pleasure, Xander drew in a deep 
gasping breath of air. 

Part Two  

Spike heard the red-headed witch collapse into a crying fit off to 
one side even as his mind absently noted the fact that the blonde 
slayer suddenly snapped out of her trauma induced shock and 
practically *exploded* with violence on the demons that *dared* to 
kill one of her closest friends. Spike too had felt that overwhelming 
need to rend and tear flesh into quivering chunks mere seconds ago. 
After all, the whelp was *his* roommate and semi-friend, so no other 
fiend had the *right* to kill the boy. That should have been *his* 
pleasure and no one else's. But now, something more important then 
vengeance had caught his undivided attention.



Spike watched in shock as the dead body of his roommate began to 
tingle with mild energy vibrations. Slowly at first, but then with 
growing speed and intensity, electric blue energy sparks washed over 
Xander's gaping bloody chest. Even as his mind whirled in an intense 
mix of relief, confusion and joy, Spike bore silent witness to the 
horrifying wounds within Xander's chest begin to heal. The jagged 
tears pulled together and mended itself into unbroken flesh, both 
within and without. The blue energy sizzled through the boy's blood 
and across his skin. Every place that Spike's body physically touched 
Xander's a warm wave of tingling energy swept over him. A crushing 
sense of protectiveness flooded through his mind from the very core 
of his demon as the boy drew in his first shuddering breath.



Immortal.



Xander was an immortal.



Spike had heard plenty of these beings, and had in fact, known a few. 
Darla's Sire, the Master, had kept one as a slave for about three 
centuries before she'd lost her head during a battle when Spike had 
been little more than a newly borne fledgling. His Dark Princess's 
first and only attempt at creating a Childe, a slight young fool whom 
Spike had instantly hated, had gone after an immortal as a snack one 
night and had gotten himself dusted as a result. And now, his 
*roommate* was proven to be an immortal.



As Xander finally opened his big brown eyes and looked up at him with 
such confusion and uncertainty, only two thoughts swirled through his 
brain.



I can feed from Xander without killing him or setting off the bloody 
chip... 



and... 



Even though both Angelus and Dru left me, I don't have to face 
eternity alone...



###



"Spike?"



"Yeah pet?"



"Am I dead? Did you turn me?"



Willow's head whipped up at those words. She saw her oldest friend 
sitting up, weakly leaning against Spike's chest. The blonde vampire 
had his arms wrapped tightly around Xander's body and they were both 
liberally coated in blood. 



She blinked.



Xander was alive and awake and looking at Spike with such a lost and 
frightened expression on his face that it broke her heart in two. 
Pain, loss, fear and anger rolled over her in successive waves until 
her ears were ringing and her vision tunneled down until she could 
only see those two men and nothing else existed in her world.



"No! Nonononono!!!! Dammit Spike! No!"



Mind empty of everything but her pain, Willow scrambled to her feet 
and dashed over to Spike and Xander. Screaming her denial, she lashed 
out in the only way she could, with her bare fists. She pummeled the 
helpless vampire in fury. Normally she was not very strong, but her 
anger fueled her muscles and lent her a viciousness that few had ever 
seen from the normally sedate witch. And Spike could not strike back. 
The chip prevented him from doing anything more than trying to 
protect his vitals from her attack.



"I *swear* I didn't turn him! I swear Red! Honest! He's not a vamp! 
Xander is an *immortal*, not a vamp! I swear!"



Xander and Spike curled in on one another, desperately trying to 
protect the other from her blows. Xander trembled within the confines 
of Spikes strong arms, even as Spike buried his face in the crook of 
Xander's neck to protect his eyes. His back to a wall and Xander to 
his chest, Willow couldn't stake him without going through Xander, 
but the boy was frightened and confused and he had no clue about what 
he was. And still the red-headed witch rained hit after hit upon them.



It was finally Buffy who pulled her away.



"Will! Will! Calm down. Xander's *not* a vamp! He's not setting off 
my Slayer senses in that way. I mean, they tingle and all, but not 
like a vamp. It's... I don't know what it is really, but it's *not* 
demonic."



Willow struggled against the slayer-strong arms that held her tightly 
for a long moment and then finally gave up. She slumped bonelessly 
against the blonde girl and began to weep brokenly.



"I don't understand. H... How can he be alive? I... I *saw* him die! 
I saw!"



Willow felt Buffy hug her tighter and give a tiny shrug.



"I... I don't know Wills. I don't know."



It was then that Spike lifted his head up from Xander's shoulder. 
Willow could see the frightened and lost look on Xander's face and it 
tore her apart. The blonde vampire snarled at her in full gameface.



"It's like I was *trying* to tell you, you bloody bint! He's an 
*immortal*! He wasn't *turned*, he's not *possessed*, he just *is*. I 
don't know everything about them, but I do know a little. We *have* 
to get him to Giles *now*. The Watcher will know what to do."

Part Three  

Xander felt a chill shiver up his spine and pulled the ends of 
Spike's leather duster tighter around his gore-splattered body. He 
wasn't really paying too much attention to where he was or where he 
was going. He only knew that the blonde vampire had an arm around his 
shoulder and was murmuring soft words into his ear as he was led down 
dark alleys and empty streets. His churning thoughts were all tuned 
inward, desperately trying to make some sort of sense out of chaos.



He had died. 



He *clearly* and *distinctly* remembered dying. An ugly scaly demon 
had reached *into* his chest and fiddled with his internal organs. 
That tends to kill a person.



Yet, here he was... walking down the streets in the comforting 
embrace of his roommate and one time enemy.



Immortal.



Spike had called him an immortal. Whatever *that* was. Apparently, 
death didn't stick to him, as if he were coated in some weird 
metaphysical teflon. But, *how* and *why*? Spike didn't know. He just 
babbled something incomprehensible about it being all quick in his 
head. Xander couldn't make any sense out of it. Or anything. 



And he was cold.



Xander figured that he was in shock. That would explain the cold and 
the fact that he could barely think. 



All he knew was that once everyone had calmed down enough to agree 
that they should head over to Giles's place, Spike had helped him to 
stand. Then, the vampire had taken one look at his blank eyes and 
immobile features and had literally taken control over him. Spike had 
gently peeled his bloody and torn shirt off of his completely healthy 
body and had tried to wipe as much blood off of his skin as possible. 
Finally, the blonde had snorted in mild frustration and quickly 
shrugged out of his duster. Speaking softly and moving slowly, as if 
with a frightened child, Spike had helped him get the long leather 
coat on his body and then had tenderly led him away from the scene of 
his own demise.



Xander was bizarrely grateful. He couldn't have done it without help. 
His brain was on mental overload as it was and he knew that he was 
unable to make any kind of decisions at the moment. He felt oddly 
disconnected from the outside world. Inside his head, however, there 
was an awful clamor. Memories and urges flashed through him. They 
weren't his... and yet they were. Spike's solicitous behavior was 
soothing instead of distracting, so he was able to concentrate on his 
internal feelings, while trusting that everything else would be fine 
and safe with the vampire watching over him. And that was important, 
because he needed to figure out these alien thoughts that were 
swirling in his brain. Vaguely, he heard voices and he tuned into 
them before he realized that they weren't inside his head, but were 
actually Willow and Buffy talking.



"I don't like how Spike is all helpful and concerned over Xander. 
It... It's gotta be some sort of... trap... or something."



"I don't know Wills. It reminds me how he used to be with Dru when 
she was having one of her spells. I don't think he'd hurt Xander to 
be honest with you."



"Buffy! He's the Big Bad. Xander *died* and now he's alive. And Spike 
went all Grrr..."



"I didn't say I *trusted* him, just that I don't think he'd hurt... 
Xander."



"Why? 'Cause he's like Dru now?"



"Yeah."



Xander considered the exchange. He rolled those ideas around in his 
head and pondered it. It was *almost* right... but not quite. He 
wasn't hearing the stars sing and he wasn't seeing visions of the 
future... but he wasn't alone in his mind either. 



As if that thought had been a trigger, his mind opened up like a 
flower pouring forth memories of what had happened during the time 
that he had been dead. That moment between when he had died in 
Spike's arms and when he had resurrected there as well. He remembered 
and he knew.



Child. Solider. Hyena.



Slowly, Xander lifted his eyes and peered over Spike's shoulder at 
the red-headed witch and the blonde Slayer.



"Don't worry. We are... not like Dru. The stars don't speak to us."



Turning back, Xander once more allowed himself to get lost in his own 
mind, shutting out the others. Only Spike's low murmuring voice and 
his gentle arm about his shoulders kept him connected with the world 
as he delved into the thoughts and memories of all three of his, now 
merged, personalities.

Part Four  

Spike nibbled absently on his bottom lip as they quickly made their 
way down the darkened path towards the Watcher's front door. His 
feelings were in turmoil and he wasn't quite sure what to do about 
it. His demon was in an uproar over the events of the evening and the 
night wasn't even half-way to being dawn yet. Continuing to murmur 
soft words of comfort to Xander, he tried to come to some sort of 
resolution with himself. 



Spike was willing to admit, if only to himself, that the small part 
of him that was all that remained of the angry half-starved young 
thief that Angelus had turned actually *liked* Xander, but it had 
always been a grudging sort of affection. The young mortal had a 
*few* qualities that he approved of, after all. 



His often cutting and sometimes morbid sense of humor.



His ability to deceive and even lie. Well... except to the witch and 
the Slayer. Xander could *never* lie to those two bints if they ever 
bothered to actually outright *ask* the boy something. But still, he 
did have a natural way about hiding his true thoughts and feelings 
behind humor, evasion and even a finely honed acting ability.



He was also brave, almost to the point of foolhardiness.



And loyal to a fault.



However, these were things that he had only learned after having been 
forced to share an apartment with the boy. Before then, he couldn't 
have been bothered, he simply went with how his demon saw Xander. 
Prey. A happy meal on legs.



Now however, his demon was feeling fiercely protective and 
frighteningly possessive of the young immortal. Xander had died and 
then been reborn in his arms... just as he had with Angelus. His 
demon seemed to think of Xander as a Childe. Someone he could feed 
from and get violent with without danger of permanent damage or 
death. Someone he could spend eternity with. Someone he could mold 
and teach and show the world to. Spike's *brain* knew that Xander was 
an immortal and not a vamp... but his *demon* had bonded to the boy 
as if he were his Childe. 



And this scared Spike.



He felt driven to get Xander all the help he needed to survive, yet 
he knew that getting him that help might be the very thing that tore 
them apart. If Giles and his Watcher Council were insistent that 
Spike *not* be around Xander then it was a pretty good chance that 
Spike would end up as dust. Maybe not by the Slayer... but by the 
Council's hired Demon Hunters. He couldn't let that happen.



For half a second he was sorely tempted to grab the boy and run. Then 
suddenly, they were there, at Giles's door, and that option was gone.



###



Xander was vaguely aware of being inside Giles's apartment. He heard 
the arguing voices that swirled around him, but he didn't pay any 
attention. He was just drifting in a stream of consciousness, 
allowing his thoughts and feelings to roam free. He observed his 
reactions to various ideas and compared them to past reactions to 
those same thoughts. He noted, in a clinically detached sort of way, 
that he saw things a lot differently now. 



He wasn't sure if it was because of the shock and trauma of dying and 
then waking back up... or if it was the result of having a triad of 
personalities to draw from. Two parts predator, one part prey.



In any event, he was beginning to see his past through a whole new 
light. His mom and dad, his high school and slayerette career, even 
his relationship with Anya. All of it seemed... clearer. His role in 
the events of his past became more sharply defined and he found that 
those roles left a sour taste in his mouth. His had been the victim, 
the clown, the bait... even the fun filled but oddly unfulfilled sex 
toy. He had forever placed the needs of others before his, thinking 
that he'd be given that same courtesy right back. But he never had... 
He felt oddly hollow. No anger towards those who had wronged him... 
just a sense of self-protection that had not been there before that 
would prevent those things from happening again.



Suddenly, Giles's voice jarred him from his thoughts. He wasn't sure 
what everyone had been saying up until that point, but he became 
instantly focused on that awed and disbelieving tone.



"Prove it!"



A soft rumbling growl erupted at his left ear and he turned to see 
Spike standing at his shoulder, his face oddly shimmering as he 
wavered back and forth between his human mask and his gameface. 
Xander reached up and gently patted the cool pale hand that was still 
clasping his shoulder protectively.



"Shhh... It's okay."



Spike turned to face him and gave a small start of surprise. Then, 
the vampire seemed to take in a deep breath and calmed himself down. 
Slowly, his face shifted back into his handsome human mask.



"Pet? Do you trust me? I promise that I won't hurt you, but this 
bloody wanker of a Watcher doesn't think that I know what I'm talking 
about. I'll be gentle... honest."



Xander wasn't sure what it was that Spike was asking him, but at that 
moment, he *did* trust the vampire. Part of his mind tried to warn 
him that Spike was an evil soulless demon, but somehow, he knew that 
that wasn't an issue at the moment. Spike would take care of him. The 
hyena's instincts were screaming 'pack-mate' at him and he chose to 
trust those instincts.



"We trust you Spike. We know you aren't going to hurt us."



Spike raised his scarred eyebrow up at the use of plurals, but he 
didn't comment on it, which was a good thing. Xander didn't think he 
could have explained it very well just yet. But then Spike moved and 
Xander's attention was drawn to his wrist. The one that Spike was now 
gently holding in his hand.



He watched with a mild curiosity and complete trust as the Master 
Vampire brought his wrist up to his lips and ran his cool wet tongue 
along his pulse point. Shivers of sensation traveled up his arm and 
he found himself gasping in pleasure. Then, blue eyes locked onto his 
and he watched as they shifted to glowing gold. Brow ridges became 
prominent and blunt teeth elongated into a maw full of razor sharp 
fangs. He didn't even flinch as Spike brought his wrist back up to 
his lips. 



This time, instead of a gentle lick, needle-like fangs carefully sank 
into his skin. As if from a far distance, he heard Buffy and Willow 
begin to shout and he was aware that Giles had taken a quick step 
forward, but he ignored them. He was too busy reveling in the sensual 
feeling of his blood welling up through the small wounds in his skin 
and the gentle and intensely intimate sensation of Spike's cool wet 
mouth suckling at his flesh. He moaned at the exquisite pleasure.



Then, without warning, that wonderful mouth was gone. Xander bit his 
lips to keep his cry of denial trapped behind his teeth. With one 
last lick to clean off a few drops of his blood, Spike turned his 
wrist out so that he and Giles could see the wound.



A shock of fear sizzled through him when he saw the blue sparks 
flicker across his skin seconds before the small tear began to heal 
itself. Confusion splashed over his mind like a bucket of icy water 
to the face and he turned his head in time to see Giles go pale.



"Oh bloody hell..."

Part Five  

Buffy paced back and forth across the small space in Giles's living 
room, her attention divided between watching Spike and Xander on the 
couch, Willow crying on the stairs and her Watcher's quiet low voice 
on the telephone in the kitchen. She was certain that her constant 
pacing was annoying to the others, but she couldn't help it. She had 
a major case of the wiggins and she *had* to pour the excess energy 
somewhere. It was either pace or start pounding on something or 
someone. 



Her Slayer senses were going crazy and that was a major part of her 
problem. Xander's death and resurrection were emotionally draining 
and confusing to her, but she had grown used to dealing with 
Hellmouthy things that she just didn't understand. That was a part of 
the whole Slayer package. She felt horrible that Xander had been 
forced to suffer such a painful death, but she was ecstatic that he 
was back alive in a non-demonic no-need-to-be-staked kind of way. 
Even so, he set her Slayer senses all a tingle.



It wasn't a feeling of danger, or even darkness that she had come to 
associate with evil things. It was... more a sense of *power* that he 
now radiated. Buffy was used to that from Giles... and had slowly 
become accustomed to it from Willow as she gained strength with her 
Wicca. Tara also radiated power to her Slayer senses. And now... so 
did Xander. It *massive* amounts. 



That made her jumpy. She could sense *all* preternatural power and 
strength. She could even tell if it was good or evil. It was just a 
matter of becoming *used* to a power source. Eventually, if it stayed 
around long enough, or if it increased in strength gradually over 
time, than she had no problem. Xander's sudden elevation to 
immortality was a shock to her Slayer senses, that was all.



And Willow... Buffy wasn't sure how to react to the slight red-head 
at the moment. Giles and Spike had sat them all down and explained 
everything that they knew about immortals, but Buffy wasn't sure that 
it made a whole lot of sense. There were too many unanswered 
questions, but she could accept that. Willow, however, did not. The 
young witch had stared at Xander throughout Giles explanation without 
saying a word. It was only later, after Giles left to use the phone 
and Willow had fled to the stairs that Buffy had gotten anything out 
of her. And she had made even less sense than Giles.



Willow said she felt "oogy" around Xander now. The closer that she 
got to him, the worse she felt. Dizzy and lightheadedness aside, 
Buffy figured that her friend was in serious shock. She wondered if 
that Quickening thing Giles mentioned, the thing inside Xander's head 
that was setting off her Slayer senses could be what was making 
Willow feel oogy, but she didn't want to suggest they test that 
theory out. The witch was in emotional turmoil as it was.



And Spike? Buffy wasn't sure what to make of the blonde vampire. She 
was used to him being rude, nasty and manipulative. He was aloof, 
cruel and often petty. Yet, since this whole disaster began, he had 
been glued to Xander's side, offering her friend physical comfort and 
soothing murmurs that she thought sounded like a strange cross 
between "Shhhh... Spike will take care of it all, don't worry pet." 
and a large jungle cat purring in contentment. The only thing that 
she could figure was that raising from the dead was a bonding thing 
for them both... but it was one she had no desire to share.



Now Giles was on the phone, trying to contact someone he knew from a 
separate branch of the Watcher's Council. *That* tidbit of 
information had been another shocker in a long line of shocks this 
night. Giles had hastily explained that the Watcher's Council had 
five separate branches, each one devoted to a different aspect of the 
supernatural.



Immortals and The Game.



Demons and demonology.



Sorcery and witchcraft.



Ghosts and poltergeists.



And of course, Slayers.



Anyone who wanted to work with the Slayers had to be knowledgeable in 
the other four disciplines, but the members of the other branches 
were highly specialized in their area. Giles wanted to get expert 
advise for Xander. Hopefully, this Adam Pierson guy would be able to 
help.



### 



Rupert hung up the telephone with a resigned sigh of frustration. 
Taking a deep breath to steady and calm himself, he turned and walked 
off to share what he had just learned. It wasn't pretty and it was 
dreadfully important. He shivered. Steeling himself for an ugly 
confrontation, he stepped back into the living room.



"Ahhh..."



Rupert glanced down and fought the urge to remove and polish his 
glasses as every eye in the room turned to him with expectant and 
hopeful expressions. A wave of compassion swept over him and he found 
himself wishing he had something else... anything else... to tell 
Xander. But he didn't.



"Xander... I've spoken with my friend... the one who is involved with 
the Immortals Branch of the Council. I... I told him what you related 
to me concerning your... death."



Three teenage faces nodded at him, hopefully. One cynical blonde 
vampire glared at him. Rupert swallowed. He knew that Spike could 
smell that frustration and fear on him. Silently, he cursed the fates.



"The good news is that Adam... my friend... has promised me that he 
will arrange for your training personally... as a favor to me."



A low growl rumbled forth from Spike and Xander allowed a small frown 
to form on his face.



"And the bad news?"



Rupert swallowed again and then looked the young immortal right in 
the eyes.



"You have to leave Sunnydale. As soon as possible."



Buffy practically leapt off of her chair and Rupert found himself 
jumping slightly at her swift movement.



"What?! Why?! Why does he have to leave?"



Rupert frowned and waved a calming hand in her direction.



"Buffy, *please*. This is terribly important. Adam told me that 
immortals try to... *avoid* the Hellmouth at all costs. And for a 
very good reason, I assure you. It seems that the... evil energy 
created and sustained by the Hellmouth can have varied and... unusual 
effects on an immortals Quickening."



Spike wrapped his arm around Xander and pulled the boy in tightly. If 
Rupert didn't know better, he would have sworn it was a protective 
maneuver.



"What do you *mean* by 'unusual effect'? In what way?"



Rupert sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.



"Well... according to Adam, legends state that the energy from a 
Hellmouth can make a Quickening become a sort of... demonic beacon. 
It seems that when we used to joke about Xander being a demon magnate 
and vampire bait, it had a basis in fact. Demons will be able to 
sense *something* about him, even if they don't recognize it as a 
Quickening signature. They'll... be attracted to him... Adam warned 
that some may even try to steal his Quickening for their own uses."



Rupert flushed in apology as he watched Xander begin to sink down 
into himself, a look of fear slowly growing on his face. Conversely, 
Spike pulled the boy in closer and wrapped him inside of his arms, 
offering comfort through touch.



"Now, don't become... too worried. Once you're away from the 
Hellmouth, the danger will disappear. Even if you do run into demons 
at that point, they won't be under the influence of the Hellmouth, so 
they shouldn't take note of you unless you announce who and what you 
are. So... with that in mind, I recommend that you go and stay with 
Angel in L.A. At least until you can meet up with Adam."

Part Six  

Spike felt a tremor work it's way up Xander's spine and then the 
newborn immortal began to quake slightly in his arms. Acting on 
instinct, his demon pulled the boy in tight, back against chest, and 
a low subsonic rumble began to purr low in his throat. It was how a 
vampire would comfort and soothe a newly fledged childer and it 
seemed to work on Xander as well. The shivering lessened. Leaning his 
face down close to the young boy's ear, he whispered softly so that 
no one else could hear him.



"Shhh... it's all right. I'm coming with you. Peaches may be a great 
big pouf, but he *is* my Sire. He won't turn us away. I'll explain 
everything to him, so don't worry. Spike'll fix it all up right."



Spike looked up at Giles and considered. The man looked tired and 
frustrated. That meant he should be easily distracted, which in 
Spike's opinion, was a good thing. The man was too bloody smart for 
his own good sometimes, and Spike didn't want him to think about what 
was coming next too closely. He had to give the man something else to 
concentrate on. If he didn't, Giles just *might* figure out what 
Spike had in mind, and then he would feel honor bound to stop it.



"Eh... look mate. I'm just gonna walk Xander here home and get him 
started on packing for his trip to L.A.. I got some things at his 
place that I wanna grab anyway. However, *you* call mincing hairstyle 
and warn him, 'cause *I* sure don't wanna talk to him."



Now for the coup du grace.



"You might also wanna take a look at your witch. She looks like she's 
ready to go all buggery. Never seen a witch lose her mind before... 
well, unless you count Dru, but she was more of a..."



Giles held up a hand and cut him off mid sentence.



"Enough. Just... just go. I'll call Angel and fill him in. Don't 
worry about Willow, I'll... take care of her. Just... go."



He had to bite back a smirk of triumph.



Spike gently helped Xander to stand up without once letting go of the 
young man. Xander seemed just as dazed as he did before. His demon 
was in complete over-protective mode and he himself was beginning to 
worry. He had never been around an immortal for their first death 
before and he wasn't sure what to expect exactly, but this quiet 
disassociation was a bit... frightening. And totally unXander-like.



At first he attributed it to the shock of waking up alive after being 
practically ripped apart by a demon, but now... he wondered. Could 
the Hellmouth be effecting his Quickening all ready? And would 
Spike's demon lose interest as soon as they had left it's sphere of 
influence? And why did the boy refer to himself as *we* whenever he 
did manage to talk?



With a sigh, Spike led Xander from Giles's apartment and out into the 
night. Those questions would have to wait. They had some packing to 
do.



###



Xander frowned in confusion as Spike pulled the car up onto the lot 
of the old Mansion and slowly drove it around back.



"Why did you bring us here?"



He watched as the blonde vampire turned and flashed him a toothy 
smile.



"Simple pet. Your car isn't sun-proof, *mine* is. So... we're gonna 
switch all of our stuff into the trunk of the Desoto and then we're 
off. We'll leave your car here. Don't worry, it'll be safe. Peaches 
owns this place and no one ever comes here. Haunted House and all 
that rot."



Xander nodded in acquiescence and silently admitted to himself that 
he hadn't even considered the sunlight factor. But that wasn't too 
surprising. He wasn't really thinking, he was simply observing and 
reacting to the world around him with his new found eyes and 
perceptions.



"We understand. It's okay with us to leave our car here."



Xander watched as Spike threw him an odd look before the vampire 
stopped the car and turned off the engine.



"Right then. Everybody out. Time to get going."



With the still unfamiliar clamor going on in his head, Xander simply 
got out of his car and helped Spike transfer all of their belongings 
into the Desoto. He didn't argue or make any jokes. He simply did as 
Spike told him to without question. It was a quick ten minutes later 
that saw them back on the road and headed for L.A. 



A tiny part of his mind clinically noted that Spike was a horrible 
driver and that they would probably be the direct and/or indirect 
cause of several accidents, but that thought failed to unnerve him. 
He was too busy being fascinated with the car itself. The Desoto was 
a mobile 'house of horrors' and it was packed full of odd mementos of 
Spike's journeys. Everything from weaponry, to leather clothing, from 
broken doll parts, to an old dusty human thigh bone. He tried to see 
through the blacked out windows and then gave it up as impossible. He 
just figured that vampires must come equipped with some sort of 
demonic radar, because he didn't know how Spike could tell where they 
were, let alone where they were going.



"Pet?"



Xander stopped his examination of an old satin shoe with the heal 
broken off and looked up at the blonde vampire.



"Yes Spike?"



He watched those handsome pale features scrunch up into an odd 
expression, almost as if the blonde wasn't exactly sure of what he 
wanted to say. Finally, the vampire just growled and spit it out.



"Look pet, I don't mean to be rude and such, but... why the bloody 
hell do you keep referring to yourself as *we*. I mean, how many of 
you do you think you are?"



Xander flashed Spike a small conspiratorial grin.



"We are three."



Spike's expression became one of utter confusion.



"Huh? Have you gone 'round the bloody bend? Not that I mind or 
anything, got used to it with Dru, but... it *is* only fair to warn a 
bloke. Insanity being what it is and all."



Xander's smile widened at the reference to Dru. She had been... 
touched in the head, as his grandmother used to say. But then he 
sobered up and gave Spike's question some serious thought. He 
honestly didn't think he was crazy... but then, crazy people never 
do. He figured that the best thing to do was to just try and explain 
what he thought had happened. It was only fair considering how 
helpful Spike was being.



"We're not crazy... well, we don't *think* we are. But... we *are* 
three. See... we think it's because we've been possessed twice in the 
past. Both times we've had exorcisms of a sort done, but it didn't 
really make the spirit *leave*... it just made it... hide. Repressed 
it. We think that the Quickening has merged us into one being."



Xander watched, vaguely concerned about crashing, as Spike turned his 
head to stare incredulously at him. His blue eyes opened wide and his 
jaw dropped in shock. Xander simply reached out and gently closed 
Spike's mouth. That action seemed to snap the vampire out of his daze.



"So... I take it that it's one of those Hellmouthy things the 
Watcher's friend warned us about?"



Xander nodded his head.



"Yeah. We think so."

Part Seven  

Spike drove through the slowly brightening streets of L.A., Xander's 
head resting in his lap. The soft sounds of snoring melded with the 
rumble of the Desoto's engine and the quiet pre-dawn sounds of the 
awakening city. He glanced down at the young immortal. He was laying 
along the front seat, his dark curly head resting on Spike's thigh 
and he held one of Dru's old headless dolls cuddled to his chest. 
Spike felt a vibration of contentment purr through his chest and deep 
in his throat.



Looking up and out of the tiny scratches in the black spray paint 
covering his windshield, Spike considered everything while he drove 
the remaining distance to his Sire's office. He had held out hope 
that once they left the sphere of influence of the Hellmouth itself, 
Xander's personality would go back to normal and that his demon would 
lose interest in the boy and let his claims on him go. No such luck.



Even an hour after they had left Sunnydale, Xander informed him that 
his ability to connect with the two spirits that possessed him were 
as strong as ever and that, in fact, he still thought of himself as a 
triad of beings merged in one body. 



It was a little disconcerting for Spike to listen to Xander talk. It 
wasn't even just the use of plurals when referring to himself, 
although that is what first caught Spike's attention. It almost felt 
somewhat along the lines of an entire personality change. Or perhaps, 
it was more correct to say that Xander's personality was the same, 
but emphasis had shifted from one aspect of it to another.



The boy had always been deep and thoughtful, and Spike was proud to 
think of himself as one of the very few who ever realized that fact. 
It's just that Xander had always hidden that facet away behind a veil 
of jokes and ribald humor. Now he didn't bother to disguise the fact 
that he thought things through. When given a subject, Xander would 
stop, think about it carefully, and then answer it honestly. No 
glossing over something ugly or painful and no jokes to distract you 
from *who* came up with the answer. He was... straightforward now. 
Spike just wondered if it was *himself* that brought that out in the 
boy... or if he'd be that way with everyone now that he'd changed.



What's more, Xander didn't seem to be able to be shocked anymore. It 
was as if his brain had decided that it had seen the height of 
weirdness and evil and everything else was just cake. Little things 
that would have sent the pre-death Xander into a mild panic and a 
case of minor hysterics were now merely objects of curiosity. Things 
to ponder over, but not to get the 'wiggins' about.



A case in point, Xander had found an old human bone half tucked under 
the front seat of the Desoto. Yesterday, that would have spawned a 
rapid heartbeat, a sweaty brow, a flurry of bad jokes and possibly 
the threat of getting staked. But not today. Instead, the infant 
immortal had simply picked it up, studied it for a quick moment, 
asked if it had belonged to "anyone we knew" and then he had casually 
tossed it over his shoulder into the back seat.



Idly, he wondered if that particular reaction had been borne from the 
solider, the hyena, or from the root personality of Xander himself. 
Spike figured that it probably didn't matter, all three of them had 
evidently seen their share of death and destruction. It was old hat, 
apparently.



Turning a last corner, Spike pulled the Desoto over to the side of 
the road, and incidentally, halfway up onto the sidewalk. They had 
finally made it to their destination. 



Angel Investigations. 



Now, time to wake up his Childe and go see the old pouf.



###



Angel was just coming up the elevator when he heard the banging on 
his outside office door. His frown deepened. Giles had called him 
earlier and explained the situation with Xander to him. It was... 
surreal to say the least. Xander... an immortal?! Still, as much as 
he was not personally fond of the boy, he couldn't turn his back on 
him. Like it or not, he *was* a member of the Scooby Gang, and 
thus... one of Angel's own. So, personal differences aside, he 
*would* help.



The elevator slowed to a stop and Angel opened the door. Stepping out 
into the office proper he heard the banging begin up again, clearer 
and louder this time. He took two steps towards the outer office and 
then jerked to a halt.



Chilly tingles ran up and down his spine and Angelus roared inside 
his head, demanding to be let out. One of his childer was here. 
Close. Outside the door. He could *feel* it. Taking a deep unneeded 
breath, Angel delved briefly into the maelstrom of thoughts and 
emotions that made up the core of Angelus. 



Spike.



It was Spike outside the door. 



Angelus screamed inside his skull for his precocious Childe William 
and then flung memory after bloody hellspawned memory at him. Turning 
Will in the heart of London's slums. Hunting through the streets of 
Paris as Sire and Childe. Fighting side by side in the countryside of 
Italy. And a multitude of memories centered around waking up to the 
early twilight, a slim cool naked form wrapped around his body. 



With his hands curled tightly into fists and his eyes squeezed shut, 
Angel beat back at the demon within him with all his heart and soul. 
Finally, Angelus calmed down enough for him to think.



Then the pounding at the door grabbed his attention again. Taking 
another unneeded breath, Angel quickly walked over and yanked his 
outer door open and allowed his dark eyes to sweep over the tired 
young immortal and then past his shoulder to Spike. He glared into 
the ice blue eyes of his Childe and had to forcibly bite back a 
snarl... and a rumbling purr.



"Spike! What in the name of Hell are *you* doing here?"



Spike merely glared back, his one arm resting protectively around 
Xander's shoulder, the other carrying a large overstuffed duffel-bag.



"Yeah. Lovely to see you too Peaches."

Part Eight  

Xander could feel the animosity and deeply buried resentment 
practically sizzle in the air between Angel and Spike. And while he 
*knew* that Angel would never mean to hurt a human and that Spike's 
chip forcibly prevented it, a tiny part of his mind informed him that 
they *could* go after each other. And even if he didn't personally 
*care* if they wanted to go a full ten rounds with each other in the 
most vicious Grr snarl claw and bite kind of way, it probably wasn't 
a good thing to be standing *between* them when they did so. Time to 
stop this before it was too late.



"Guys? Listen, we're tired, hungry and not in the mood for this. 
Just... let us get fed and tucked in and then you two can drain each 
other to the dregs. We even volunteer to mop the spilt blood up off 
of the floor once we wake up, okay?"



Xander watched as the anger melted off of Angel's face to be 
completely replaced by total and thorough confusion. Spike simply 
hugged him tighter and shrugged his shoulders.



"Sure thing pet. Peaches and I can play our little games after you've 
fallen asleep. Well... as soon as he invites us in, that is."



Xander considered this for a second and then turned to Spike, a 
question burning in his eyes.



"Do we need an invitation now like vampires do?"



Spike shook his head and offered up a slight grin.



"Naw pet, not you. You still can enter any place you want. *I'm* the 
one as needs to be invited."



"Oh."



Xander turned back and faced Angel. He quirked an eyebrow up and 
gestured to the open doorway. Without saying a word, he managed to 
make it clear that he wouldn't come in until Spike had been invited 
as well. Angel, however, didn't even blink. His face was still 
screwed up in an expression of extreme confusion and he stepped back 
out of the way.



"Right. Come on in..."



Before he knew it, Spike was gently propelling him forward and into 
the office. He wanted to look around and explore. He knew that 
Cordelia worked here and he was hoping to see her and talk to her 
again, but not right now. He was tired and hungry and everything else 
didn't seem as important somehow. Events were catching up to him and 
all he wanted was to put it all behind him and deal with it later. 
For right now, he was more than happy to keep letting Spike handle 
things. Well... as long as it didn't involve getting caught in the 
middle of two Master Vampire's having a long overdue talk complete 
with fists and fangs that is.



"Um... Angel. Can we go someplace and... um, sit down. We are 
exhausted."



Xander could feel tremors begin to race through his leg muscles and 
he wasn't entirely sure that he could stay standing much longer. He 
sincerely hoped that the dark broody vampire would take pity on him.



Apparently he did, because the next thing Xander knew he was being 
herded into an elevator. He felt himself get pulled up against 
Spike's chest and allowed himself to relax. Turning and burying his 
face into the crook of bare flesh between Spike's neck and shoulder 
and let his eyes drift closed. Sleep began to steal over him and he 
heard the voices of the two vampires as if from a long distance. The 
low deep and softly spoken tones were soothing and the smooth rocking 
motion of the elevator lulled him. Vaguely, he noted that he was 
falling, but then two strong arms grasped him gently and he was swung 
up into the air and pressed against a cool t-shirt covered chest.



"Shhh.... I've got you pet. I've got you."



###



Spike laid the sleeping immortal on Angel's couch while his Sire went 
to hunt down a blanket and pillow. Careful, so as not to wake the 
boy, Spike eased off his Childe's sneakers and jacket. As soon as 
Angel came back with the requested items, Spike tucked the pillow up 
under Xander's head. The boy turned on his side immediately and 
snuggled down, Dru's old decapitated doll once more clutched to his 
chest like a security blanket. Then, Spike covered him up with a warm 
woolen throw.



Turning, Spike followed Angel across the living room and into the 
kitchen. He watched silently as the older vampire heated up two 
containers of blood and then poured them into a set of coffee mugs. 
He waited until his Sire had sat down and they had both finished off 
the warm pig's blood before he spoke. And when he did, his voice 
didn't hold the spite and anger he had thought it might. Even to his 
own ears he sounded hurt and confused.



"Look Peaches, I know that the Watcher git didn't warn you I was 
coming up too. Simple that, he didn't know. I didn't *want* him to 
know, and for good reason. As much as it pains me to admit, I think 
you might be the only one who *will* understand, so... I'm gonna tell 
you instead."



He watched as a flurry of emotions flitted across Angel's face. Most 
people wouldn't have caught even half of them, but he had spent 
almost a century in the company of the older vampire and he had long 
ago learned things about him that no one else knew. Like the almost 
imperceptible clenching of his jaw meant surprise and the slight 
leaning forward of his weight was a signal that he was willing to 
listen. 



Spike shifted slightly to get more comfortable and reached up to 
pinch the bridge of his nose. He tried to pull his whirling thoughts 
into some semblance of order so that he would at least make a little 
bit of sense to the mincing ponce. Finally he sighed and looked 
directly at Angel.



"Right. Did Giles tell you *why* Xander had to get away from the 
Hellmouth right away?"



When Angel nodded, Spike relaxed a fraction. This would make it 
easier to explain then.



"Well... I don't think we got him out of there fast enough. I think 
it was too late before we even knew what we were dealing with."



At that, Angel's head shot up from where he'd been staring down into 
his now empty mug. His face might have been inscrutable to most, but 
Spike could see the curiosity and worry mingled deep in his dark eyes.



"Two things really. First... well, did you know that Xander had been 
possessed before? I mean, like *way* before he died?"



Angel nodded his head slowly, his eyes filled with questions, even 
though he was willing to wait out Spike's telling of the story.



"Yeah. I remember both times. Once, on a school trip to the zoo he 
and a bunch of other student's were possessed by the spirit of 
hyenas, and then another time Ethan Rayne cast a spell at a Halloween 
Dance that turned people into their costumes. Xander was a solider. 
Why?"



Spike nodded his head as he listened to his Sire describe the events 
from the past. Xander hadn't gone into any details about *how* he'd 
managed to get himself possessed in the first place. He'd just said 
that he had.



"Yeah. Well, those two are back and they're inside the boy's head as 
we speak. Told me he had a vision while his body was lying there 
dead. Said that he merged into one being with the solider and the 
hyena, whatever that means. *That's* why he keeps calling 
himself "we" instead of "I", so don't be too shocked if he does it to 
you too."



"That's... that's... "



Spike snorted in amusement tinged with frustration.



"Weird? Strange? Unheard of? Come on Angelus, the boy was born, 
raised, possessed, died and then resurrected... all on the Hellmouth. 
Of *course* something had to go all bizarre."



Angel looked as if he was going to argue the point and then paused. 
After a quick moment he nodded as his body sagged back against the 
chair. He looked tired himself, as if this was just one more burden 
to carry and he wasn't quite sure how to do so without screwing it 
up. Idly, Spike figured it must be hard to have a soul and worry 
about every little thing. Right now he only had one or two worry's, 
all centered around himself, and that was more than enough thank you.



Spike eyeballed his Sire a long moment and then finally sighed. He 
had to tell him. He was the only one who had any hope of helping with 
this last problem... At least, the only one who could help that Spike 
*trusted*. Big difference there.



"Um... Angelus, there's more."



Angel's eyes widened momentarily and then he visibly braced himself. 
Taking that as a good idea, he readied himself as well. If he knew 
his Sire, this wouldn't go down easy.



"Okay... it's about *how* Xander died. See... when he collapsed after 
the demon attack, he fell on me. So, he literally died in *my* arms. 
Then... he was *reborn* there as well."



Angel blinked and silently nodded once. Spike rushed on.



"Look, it wasn't my fault. I didn't *mean* for it to happen, it just 
did. I *know* he's an *immortal*, but my demon has gone and bonded to 
the boy as if he were my *Childe* and now I don't know what to do!"



Angel stood up, his beautiful human mask falling away to reveal his 
growling roaring gameface.



"YOU WHAT?!!!"



###



Xander started out of a deep sleep at the loud ringing shout. His 
eyes snapped open and it only took him a quick second or two to 
realize that he was at Angel's place. He groaned in sleepy 
frustration and flopped back onto the warm fluffy pillow. 



"Hello you two! We are *trying* to sleep out here. Keep it the hell 
down, would'ja?"

Part Nine  

Xander's sleepy plea for quiet helped to remove his gameface, but he 
was still angry and more than a little concerned. This was a *lot* to 
absorb in such a short amount of time. Stepping away from the table, 
Angel began to pace as he silently rolled everything around in his 
mind.



The newborn immortal's recently merged multiple personality could end 
up complicating matters, but that wasn't what Angel felt was the most 
urgent problem. The Quickening induced pseudo-possession was 
something that they would have to take a wait and see approach to. If 
it turned into something that they couldn't deal with, they would act 
on it. If not, they would find a way to either work with it... or 
even around it. Angel was more than willing to help with that area if 
need be. He himself had lots of practice in dealing with unwanted 
voices in his head. 



Namely Angelus. 



After he'd first gotten his soul, it had been *very* difficult. Both 
of them wanted control and only the curse prevented Angelus from 
wresting it from him. Their decent into the demon dimension of Hell 
had changed all of that. They had been forced into a state of being 
that was exactly as Xander described himself to be. Merged. Angel and 
Angelus. Two personalities, one mind and one body. Control was a 
constant battle now, not something dependant on a no-longer existent 
curse. Oddly enough, he and Angelus often desired the same things. It 
was more a matter of *method* that they differed on. The only thing 
going for Angel in this was that Angelus often wasn't very interested 
in matters that didn't include fighting or fucking, so he willingly 
left everything else up to Angel.



But this situation had woken Angelus up and he was *very* intrigued 
with the current events. It was the second, and most pressing problem 
that had captured the attention of his demon.



Spike had claimed Xander as his Childe.



This was actually a two part problem. Spike's claiming of Xander. And 
Angelus's reaction to that claiming. That may have sounded funny if 
he said it out loud, but it was far from amusing. It was more along 
the lines of dangerous. And that danger was all pointed at the 
sleeping immortal.



Even though Spike knew in his head that Xander was not a vampire, his 
demon had *bonded* and that was the crux of the problem. It probably 
wouldn't have happened if they hadn't been on the Hellmouth. Nor 
would it have happened if Xander had chosen any other place to die 
besides Spike's arms. But that's the way things worked out and now 
Spike's demonic instincts were kicking in. 



As a Sire towards a newly fledged Childe. 



He'd want to feed from Xander as well as feed his own blood to the 
sleeping boy. He'd feel overprotective and jealously possessive. He'd 
want to teach him and train him in the ways of the hunt. All of that 
wasn't *too* bad and they could be used to actually help the boy. It 
was the other thing that worried Angel. A Sire's claim on his Childe 
was also a strongly sexual thing. Both as a punishment and a reward 
system. Somehow, he wasn't too sure that Xander would willing let 
Spike bed him just to appease his inner demon.



But beyond all that, there was Angelus, howling inside his own head. 
He hungered for the taste of the immortal's blood as was his right as 
grandSire. He knew that it would be rich and powerful and more alive 
than any mortal's could ever be. Even now, he could hear that steady 
heartbeat from across his apartment, thundering loudly in his ears.



And if the thought of living blood that was his to take by rights 
wasn't enough, Angelus kept stirring up old memories that Angel 
didn't want to remember. Old stories and prophecies, legends and 
tales, passed down through the line of Aurelus and told to him by his 
own Sire Darla. Stories of the Daywalker. The Childe who was not. The 
infant who's birth would pull living myth's from the past and into 
the present. The One who would bring Death to he who had all ready 
died.



Lost in his swirling thoughts, Angel didn't hear Spike talking to him 
until he felt a cool hand rest lightly against his arm. Slowly, he 
turned his head and looked into the concerned blue eyes of his own 
Childe.



"Peaches? You okay? You look a little pallid."



Angel didn't answer his question. He just swallowed and said one word 
in a choked and whispered voice.



"Daywalker."



###



Spike felt his face drain of all color. 



His mind cringed from the very thought of the Daywalker Prophecies. 
The Childe who would band four eternal beings together. Two of 
darkness and two of light. Then together these four would join in 
battle to prevent the extinction of all supernatural races against 
the humans. The Childe who was not, the Daywalker was prophesied to 
be the one to save the line of Aurelus from dying out, which was of 
the good in Spike's opinion since that was *his* bloodline, but the 
Daywalker was also supposed to bring Death to he who had all ready 
died. *That* was of the bad... wasn't it?



With a full body shudder, Spike's mind hit overload and he slammed 
walls of denial up that were three feet thick. He smirked at Angel 
and turned to go.



"Well. G'nite Angelus. I'm going to bed."



Angel sputtered.



"*Spike*! Did you hear what I just said?"



Spike nodded and leveled an evil glare full of the promise of massive 
violence and bloodshed.



"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did hear you Peaches. However, I 
*don't* fancy thinking about it right now. One more bloody piece of 
fucked up or generally bad news comes my way and I swear I will lose 
what's left of my bloody mind, so *please* just shut the fuck up and 
let me *go* *to* *bed*."



Spike watched as Angel's jaw snapped shut with an audible click.



"Thank you. Good night."



Grinding his teeth, Spike turned on his heels and walked back out 
into the living room. Xander was still curled up under the woolen 
blanket, his face sweet and innocent in repose. Rolling his eyes 
skyward and silently praying to any beings that look out for soulless 
vampires and might be listening, would watch over him and his Childe 
during the day. 



With preternatural silence, Spike quickly removed his Doc's and shed 
his jeans. Then, moving carefully so as not to wake the boy, Spike 
crawled onto the couch and under the blankets with Xander. Stretched 
out across the warm length of the immortal's body and with his blonde 
head tucked down by Xander's shoulder, Spike sighed softly, closed 
his eyes and allowed himself to finally drift off to sleep.

Part Ten  

Xander shifted slightly so that he could wrap one arm around the 
solid cool weight of his bed-mate and pull the body into a more 
comfortable position. A bent knee slid between his legs and lean hips 
wiggled into place above his own. Faint rumbling vibrations that 
teased just at the edge of his hearing passed into his body from the 
muscled chest pressed against him. Tension that he hadn't even been 
aware of melted out of him and he relaxed completely.



Hovering on the extreme edge of sleep, Xander sleepily pondered his 
reactions and feelings to this latest development. Somehow, he knew 
without looking or talking, that it was Spike who had climbed onto 
the couch with him and was now curled up in sleep on top of and 
around him. He knew that this should bother and upset him for some 
reason or another, but it didn't. He was, in fact, more content than 
he had been before the blonde vampire had shimmed under his blanket. 



Idly, he tried to track down the root of his contentment. Finally, he 
concluded that it was because all three aspects of his mind enjoyed 
Spike's presence beside him, even if each one had their own 
particular reason.



The easiest one to figure was the solider. He recognized that Spike 
was an excellent fighter with lots of experience and amazing stores 
of personal bravery. Xander's inner warrior also considered Spike to 
be an ally as opposed to an enemy. He wasn't sure if his status as an 
immortal changed how Spike's chip would work in regards to him, but 
it didn't really matter. If Spike *did* manage to hurt him, it 
wouldn't be permanent, so it was an acceptable risk. 



The solider was content. He had a brother in arms to fight side by 
side with. 



The most conflicted of his inner selves was the child. The young teen 
was frightened of the extreme changes that had occurred in such a 
swift period of time and he was desperate for someone to soothe his 
fears and self doubts. He was needy in a way that was almost savage 
in it's intensity. That small lonely boy wanted to be nothing more 
than cared for. He searched for understanding, protection, 
companionship and love. And Spike was offering all of that to him.



The child was content. He had a father-figure to wipe his tears and a 
friend to hold his hand.



The most simple and yet at the same time, most confusing reaction was 
from the hyena. That animalistic beast had very basic and primal 
needs, but these needs were bone deep, ingrained within from time 
immemorial. The hyena craved the hunt and desired a strong tight-knit 
pack unit. There was something inside of Spike that literally 
*screamed* kinship at the hyena. A fellow hunter, a predator of like 
mind. A pack-mate.



The hyena was content. It was sleeping with it's mate in a warm safe 
den. Dreaming of the hunt.



With a soft sigh, Xander released his tenuous hold on consciousness. 
There would be time enough tomorrow to sort through his layered 
feelings for the Master Vampire who's body was literally shielding 
and protecting him from the rest of the room... the rest of the 
world. Wrapping himself up in the heady sensation of being safe and 
of belonging, Xander silently drifted back into a deep sleep.



###



Angel slowly made his way from the kitchen to the living room area, 
turning off lights as he went. He paused a moment to study the 
entwined forms of his Childe and his grandChilde asleep on the couch. 
Angelus provided him with a detailed vision of how they would look 
stretched out naked on the sheets of his bed and his traitorous cock 
stirred in response. Admonishing himself that he had more important 
things to take care off, Angel continued on his way to the bedroom.



Once there, he made his way to the tall pine wardrobe and opened the 
heavy wooden door. Nestled in the back, underneath some shoe boxes 
was an iron-bound chest. Swiftly moving the cardboard containers out 
of the way, Angel grabbed the heavy chest and slid it out onto his 
floor. Standing up again, the brooding vampire walked over to a small 
mother-of-pearl inlaid jewelry box and lifted the delicate lid. 
Inside one of the sections laid a large hand-crafted iron key. Angel 
reached inside and grabbed it. With a thoughtful look on his handsome 
face, he made his way slowly back over to the chest.



Kneeling down, Angel inserted the key in the ancient lock and then 
carefully lifted the heavy lid. Many old relics and artifacts stared 
up at him and for a moment, he was lost in a sea of memories. Some 
heartwarmingly good, some frighteningly terrible to behold. Regret 
and grief swam through his mind, but wether it was for the things he 
had done in his past when he had been soulless or if it was for the 
family he had been denied by his soul's sudden return, Angel wasn't 
sure.



No mortal had ever seen the contents of this chest and if Angelus had 
any say, none ever would. It was all he had left of his connection to 
the Aurelus bloodline with the exception of his Childe William. Every 
object within was terribly important to the dark vampire. Some things 
were simply personal mementos of his demonic family... but others 
were not so innocuous. In fact, the thing in particular that Angel 
was specifically looking for was one of the more dangerous items. One 
that Angelus had guarded for over a century and a half.



Reaching in, Angel gently pushed aside an antique doll dress that had 
once belonged to Dru. He moved a silver dagger given to Angelus 
personally by the Master and carefully placed it beside the silk 
wrapped bundle of hair that he'd shorn from his long dead sister's 
head. Trying hard not to let his memories overwhelm him, Angel 
reached in and picked up the object of his search. 



A small book.



The leather that covered it had been painstakingly dyed a brilliant 
red and it was embossed in gold leaf with the insinuatingly innocent 
word; Aurelus. The pages themselves were of the highest quality velum 
available at it's making and the hand drawn lettering had been done 
with the finest India Ink that blood and money could buy. The ancient 
tome itself was worth a small fortune, but the information it 
contained was priceless, for it had been purchased with the souls of 
every member of the Aurelus bloodline. This one book held the names 
of every Childe Sired from the bloodline as well as the full 
collection of the Clan Prophesies. Even a few of Dru's mad 
predictions had been deemed worthy enough to be added. 



With a slight tremor in his hands, Angel opened the book and skimmed 
through it until he found the relevant passage. Then, his undead 
heart squeezing in his chest, he began to read.





Hail the coming of the Daywalker

He shall walk through the light of day

This Childe who is not of the blood

Yet Aurelus will claim him in name

And he shall not deny the call of his Sire

Death shall come from the mists of time

Summoned from legend at his rebirth

From Death shall the Childe who is not

Learn of the past and the eternal hunt

The Daywalker will give living Death

To He who has tasted the realm of the dead

Time will flow as a river of blood

Past pain and death with a hopeful soul

Into the heart of mortal madness run

The champions of Aurelus and all demon kind

Daywalker and Death, who holds the light

Sire and Childe, embraced in blood 

Hail the coming of the Daywalker

His dread destiny has been foretold

When the Four bond in love and hate

Witness you the beginning of forever





Reading this, Angel shivered in fear, as if someone had walked across 
his long empty grave. 

Part Eleven  

Blood.



Hot sweet pulsing blood.



The scent of it filled his nose, rich and thick and oh so close. 
Close enough to warm his chilled skin. Pulsing with vibrant life, hot 
and fresh and... hauntingly familiar.



Spike could feel his features slowly shift from his human mask into 
his gameface even as his muddled mind drifted along half asleep. He 
was foggily aware of wonderful seductive heat radiating up from where 
he was laying and the heady aroma of salt and flesh and blood filled 
his senses, seducing his demon. Happy contentment rumbled low in his 
throat even as his hunger was stirred.



A slow steady heartbeat pressed tightly to him, it's gentle thumping 
transmitting itself into his own body rhythmically, soothing and 
arousing all at once. Some tiny part of his mind recognized the feel 
of living flesh cuddled up under him in blissful trusting sleep and 
he nuzzled his nose against the long length of a warm sensual neck. 
Without opening his eyes, Spike allowed his tongue to slip from his 
mouth and trace a wet line along the alluring pulse.



The familiar and lovely taste of Xander exploded across his senses. 
The subsonic rumbling of his purr grew in strength.



"Childe."



Feeling sleep fall away from him like a velvet veil, Spike carefully 
slid his fangs into the tender neck with as much gentleness and 
loving passion as he could. A soft spoken moan of pleasure caressed 
his ears only seconds before the young immortal's quickening spiced 
blood welled up in his mouth.



Exquisite pleasure crashed over him in a dizzying deluge of hot wet 
*living* blood. Rich and thick and tingling with magical 
effervescence, the sweet liquid rolled down his throat like sparkling 
sunlight. His entire body began to quiver as unspeakable joy bubbled 
up inside of him. Erotic waves of desire thrummed in his undead veins 
and his cock hardened to the point of agony.



Spike suckled deeply against the tiny wounds and his mouth filled 
with Xander's blood once again. Swallowing it down he felt a wash of 
intense energy pour through his being and he began to mindlessly 
grind his cock against the achingly hot body of his Childe. A softly 
whispered gasp of air roared past his ears as Xander grasped at him 
tightly and thrust his own hips forward.



Bodies rocking and pressing together, tingling magical blood binding, 
desperate hunger and need driving them, they twined into one. 
Pleasure seared cool skin and ecstasy washed over them in shudders 
and sucking needy mouths drank deeply and time came to a blinding 
crashing stop as they cried out to one another in extreme orgasmic 
release.



With a final shudder, Spike collapsed bonelessly against Xander and 
gently withdrew his fangs from his Childe's delicate throat. He ran 
his cool tongue along the twin puncture marks to lap up the last few 
spilled drops. Gasping pants for air heaved the muscled ribcage 
beneath him up and down even as his own chest rumbled, now easily 
audible, in a throaty purr of absolute satiation. 



"G' morning Spike. Sleep well?"



Spike couldn't prevent the half-sappy half-self satisfied grin that 
erupted across his now human appearing face.



"Yeah pet. I had lovely dreams. You?"



A slight shrug of muscled shoulders sent a slight jiggle through his 
own body.



"We had... strange dreams. Waking up was *lots* of fun though. Of 
course, we are now wearing messy sticky clothes... but it was 
definitely worth it."



Spike chuckled at that. The boy had a point. Waking up *was* fun... 
and messy. He leaned up on his arms so that he could look down into 
those fathomless dark eyes.



"Come on then luv. Let's go jump in the pouf's shower and get cleaned 
up. Afterwards, I'll help you make up a big breakfast. Sound good?"



Xander's grin was like the sun coming up after more than a century of 
darkness.



"Yeah. Sounds good."



###



Angel sat in his chair in the main office and resisted the urge begin 
pacing about the room like a caged tiger. He also managed to resist 
the urge to grab Cordelia by the arms and shake her as hard as he 
could. Angel knew that the only reason that she was acting so bitchy 
was due to her concern and fear for her one time boyfriend Xander. 



Cordy had never been one to handle overwhelming emotions well. She 
tended to process them in ways designed to hide them. Rude comments 
and snide remarks were a defense mechanism learned as a young girl 
who had been forced to grow up on a perilously high pedestal that was 
eventually toppled out from underneath her. This had the side-effect 
of making her overprotective of her friends, but still unable to cope 
with emotional stress. Angel tried not to take her comments 
personally, but he was just as worried and on edge.



He found himself absurdly grateful to Wesley. The ex-Watcher was 
aware of immortals and was able to help explain the basic understood 
facts about the elusive race of beings in a Cordelia friendly manner. 
He had managed to calm the girl in a way that Angel never could have. 
What's more, when Angel broached the subject of the Daywalker 
Prophesies, Wesley had shown his usual exuberance while still 
projecting an aura of surety and non-angst in her presence. 



Wesley had admitted to being unfamiliar with the Daywalker, but he 
wasn't discouraged by that fact. He felt that it might have something 
to do with the prophecy being vampiric in nature. He had suggested 
that there might be a parallel one, immortal in origin, that could 
shed more light on the subject. Wesley had promised to check with his 
scrolls and his books concerning the matter and had made sure that 
both he himself and Cordelia were aware that it would be a top 
priority for the demon hunter.



Angel was just about ready to dismiss his employee's so that they 
could go to work on unearthing the Daywalker Prophecies when chaos 
walked into his offices in the form of a painfully handsome young man 
with soul-chillingly old eyes that had obviously seen *far* too many 
things in this world. Angel looked over at this stranger and became 
dizzy as most of the stolen blood in his body rushed straight to his 
suddenly throbbing erection, even as Angelus *howled* inside his head 
at the blinding sensation of unthinkingly *massive* amounts of power 
radiating from the man.



"Hello. I'm Adam Pierson. Rupert Giles sent me here to meet with a 
young man named Xander Harris."

Part Twelve

A strange buzzing sensation began to form in the back of Xander's 
skull and he looked up from his breakfast to glance at Spike with a 
question forming in his mind. Seconds later, that question was shoved 
aside as that buzzing quickly grew in intensity to an almost painful 
level. With a confused gasp, he dropped his fork and clutched at his 
head. Vaguely, as if from a distance, he heard Spike's voice.



"Pet? I think... some*thing* has just entered the building. I'm not 
sure what it is, but it makes my teeth itch and..."



Spike's voice trailed off suddenly as he rushed over to Xander's 
side. The young immortal felt his friend and now lover clutch at his 
arms and try to peer into his face.



Pet? Xander? What is it? What's wrong?"



Xander could hear the concern straining the Master Vampire's voice 
even as those gold tinged ice blue eyes held a sliver of anger in 
them. He gasped and tried to form words that would explain this... 
sensation.



"We don't know. It's not like anything we've felt before. It's 
this... *noise* in our head and this sense of... *presence*. We can 
feel it calling to us."



Xander watched as Spike's human mask slid away to be replaced by the 
demonic ridges and sharp fangs of his full gameface. Then, his lover 
grabbed hold of one of his hands tightly and pulled him to his feet. 
Moving swiftly, Spike led him around the kitchen table and to the 
stairs that led up into the offices of Angel Investigations. He 
paused only to yank a razor sharp and highly polished Battleaxe from 
where it hung on the wall.



"If it comes down to it pet, I'll hold the bugger down and you lop 
off his head. I refuse to let anyone steal *my* Childe's Quickening 
without a fight. Even if I have to cheat and fight dirty."



Xander was confused. The buzzing in his head didn't make it any 
easier to concentrate.



"What? Spike, what do you mean, steal our Quickening?"



The blonde vampire snarled and pulled him along faster.



"That's a part of being immortal luv. You can sense the presence of 
another Quickening when it gets too close. Let's you know it's time 
to go out head hunting."



A quick shrug of strong shoulders.



"'Course, it could just be that teacher fellow Giles was supposed to 
send here to you. Can't tell. That's why I grabbed the axe. Just in 
case, pet... just in case."



Xander was going to argue further. The hyena may have been up for a 
free-for-all, but the solider wanted to map out a strategy that would 
put the two of them at the greatest advantage and the child agreed. 
He never got the chance to say anything about Spike's headlong dash 
for violence however, because they were suddenly at the top of the 
stairs and Spike was dragging him out into the office, gameface still 
in full snarl.



The noise in his head got increasingly louder and Xander's eyes were 
instantly drawn to a tall lean stranger wearing a soft grey sweater 
and a long brown trench coat. The man was blatantly flirting with 
Angel when he broke off in mid sentence and turned to face him and 
Spike. At first, the man's eyes tracked directly to him, but then 
they slid over to take in Spike and panic erupted over those oddly 
handsome features.



"Holy *fuck*!"



In the blink of an eye, the stranger had yanked a vicious broad sword 
from within the folds of his long coat and stepped into a very 
professional fighting stance. It was evident that this man was no 
stranger to facing enemies in personal combat. 



"This place is infested with bloody *demons*!"



Xander felt Spike's grip on his wrist change and then he was shoved 
backwards behind the blonde vampire. The force of the push knocked 
him back on his ass and he tumbled to the ground in a graceless heap. 
Suddenly, the ringing sound of steel on steel filled the air. Xander 
looked up to see Spike's axe clash locked with the wide blade of the 
stranger's sword.



###



Panic sizzled through Angel's soul so fast that for a second he was 
convinced that he was going to vomit his breakfast in a splash of 
bright red pig's blood. Then anger swooped in and before he knew it 
*Angelus* was in control.



"SPIKE! STOP NOW!"



With a lightening fast move he dashed over to the blonde vampire and 
clutched at the axe handle, simultaneously changing it's angle of 
descent and pulling Spike back out of the initial fight zone. He was 
in full gameface as he swirled around to stand directly behind the 
younger vampire. One hand held the axe tightly and the other crushed 
Spike back against his massive chest. He growled in his Childe's ear.



"You will NOT take this one's head. Do you hear me?"



Spike bucked and squirmed, fighting to get free, refusing to submit. 
It was fuel on the fire of Angelus's anger.



"CHILDE! OBEY ME!"



And with that echoing roar, Angelus sunk his teeth violently into 
Spike's neck, tearing the flesh and swallowing a great mouthful of 
the rich powerful blood of his Childe. Instantly, as if someone had 
flipped a switch, Spike stilled in his arms and tilted his head to 
the side, exposing more of his throat.



Taking a deep breath in through his nose, the scent and taste of 
vampire blood pervading his senses, he had to *fight* the urge to 
drain Spike into unconsciousness. With an effort of willpower, he 
pulled his fangs back out of the pale flesh and snarled in a low 
threatening tone directly into Spike's ear all the while ignoring the 
looks of horror etched deeply on Cordelia, Wesley and Adam's faces.



"What in the name of Hell do you think you are doing Childe?"



Spike snorted in derision, but he didn't try to escape Angelus's hold.



"He came for Xander's Quickening, Angelus. I'm *not* going to stand 
by and watch some bloody pouf kill my Childe. I'll stake myself 
first. And why are you stopping me anyway? I'd *think* you'd be the 
first to bloody well help."



Angel rolled his eyes as Angelus was finally shoved to the back his 
mind. Slowly, his gameface slid away and his human mask fell back 
into place. Gently, he pulled the axe out of Spike's hand.



"Well... for starters, I'm not going to help you kill him because 
he's *not* our enemy. This is the guy that Giles *told* you would be 
coming here to *help* Xander."



Spike blinked in shock.



"Adam?"



Angel nodded his head and slowly released his tight grip on Spike. 
The younger vampire slid sideways and then made his way over to 
Xander. He reached down and pulled the newborn immortal to his feet 
and then wrapped protective arms around the boy. Angel could tell he 
was willing to listen to reason, even if he was still glaring at the 
older immortal. Slowly, Spike's features shifted back into his 
handsome human mask. Then he turned back to face Adam again and 
winced at the expression on the man's face. It was a cross between 
recognition and shock.



"Angelus?... I thought you said your name was *Angel*"



###



Methos nerves were screaming at him and adrenaline pumped through his 
veins. He was caught between the need to run away as far as he could 
and the desire to find out what in the bloody hell Rupert had gotten 
him into.



He watched in confusion and suspicion as a flurry of emotions swiftly 
flitted across Angel's breath-takingly beautiful face at his 
question. Finally, Angel settled on stoic sorrow and sighed deeply.



"I *am* called Angel. In *this* century. *Angelus* is the name I went 
by during an earlier point in my life."



Methos frowned. A memory tried to surface, but it was drowned out by 
a million million others, not to mention an overwhelming supply of 
emotions.



"It... sounds familiar to me, but I can't place it."



Angel grimaced and his dark eyes became haunted with regret and pain.



"It should. I traveled around a good portion of Europe and parts of 
Asia with him about a century or so ago."



Angel turned and pointed to the blonde vampire holding the dark 
haired youth.



"That's my Childe. He's been known as both William the Bloody and 
Spike. Together we were the infamous Scourge of Europe."



Memories finally clicked in Methos' memory and he felt infinitely 
less safe. Then he caught Angel's dark eyes again and he saw none of 
the hunger and madness that were associated with the Scourge of 
Europe. There was a long story there and he wondered just what it 
was, but before he could ask what had ended their reign of terror, 
Angel spoke again. This time about the boy he was sent to train.



"And that is Xander Harris. Newborn immortal and Childe of Spike. The 
Daywalker."



Methos felt a chill race up his spice as if someone had trailed icy 
fingers along his flesh. A fragment of a memory, buried deep with 
time slowly surfaced and he swayed slightly as he felt his face go 
pale at this knowledge. Just as he was about to topple over in shock, 
two strong arms wrapped around him and Methos looked up into the 
concerned dark eyes of the demon with the face of an angel. While 
starring up into those twin orbs, something deep inside compelled him 
to tell the truth and he felt himself open the floodgates of prophecy.



"I'm Eternal Methos, Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, whose reign 
of terror covered the earth in blood and pain for over a millennium."



A low voice with a deeply English accent caught his attention. He 
forcibly dragged his eyes from Angel's beautiful face and looked over 
to the younger demon.



"Hey Peaches. Isn't the Fourth Horseman the one they called Death?"



Methos felt Angel shiver slightly and his soft whispering voice 
carried loudly in the sudden silence.



"Yes Will. It seems that Xander's teacher is living Death, just as 
foretold. Welcome to the beginning of forever my Childe."



Methos watched with frightened eyes as the blonde Master Vampire 
pulled the confused young immortal into a crushingly tight embrace, 
raised his face in an expression of absolute horror, and howled out 
his rage and denial to the uncaring night.





The End.