*****

It was after midnight and Xander was sleeping. Oz and Giles sat on the couch, two cups of tea in front of them. "So?" Giles asked. "Were you able to find anything out?"

Oz nodded. "Yeah. We talked."

"About his mother?" Oz nodded again. "Well?"

"I can't tell you, Giles."

"I thought the point was. . ."

"I know you want to know, but the point was for Xander talk and for me to be there for him. Not for Xander to share something so massive and have me tell you. He doesn't want you to know and I'm not going to be the one to let him down."

Giles nodded, understanding the boy's position. "Is there anything that you can tell me?"

After contemplating his words for a moment, Oz said, "It's bad. All of Xander's whacked out behavior is probably. . .normal. If I were him and if I had his experiences, then I'd act like him too." Rubbing his eyes with his palms, Oz stood up. "He didn't tell me everything. I got a brief overview of his life since age five. And some things he couldn't even verbalize; I had to guess." Stepping around the couch and heading for the door, Oz grabbed his jacket off the hook and turned back to the Watcher. "It's so much worse than I ever thought it could be."

**

It's always cold when I go to sleep. Every night, I feel like I'm freezing to death. Giles keeps the apartment warm and I have like two blankets, but still I feel cold. . .on the inside. At night is when I think about things the most.

It's usually when Giles goes to sleep or when he thinks that I'm sleeping that I start thinking. Sometimes I can't remember and I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse. I mean, I know my past is bad and sometimes I'm glad that I can't remember the really bad parts. But then other times, it's like a gaping hole inside of me. It's unsettling not to be able to remember huge chunks of your life.

So, Oz knows. He knows about my mother. He even had an expression when I finally got the words out of my mouth. He didn't really say anything, but that's nothing new. He did say that it didn't make him feel different about me. Yeah, right. Knowing that I've had sex with my mother in no way makes him look at me differently. Whatever. I probably shouldn't have told him. He'll probably tell Giles.

I don't want Giles to know. I don't want anyone to know. I don't know why I told Oz.

I guess. . .I mean, he was there and he was being so nice and so. . .and he talks to me like I'm just another person, not like I'm some fucked up kid, you know? He's. . .I guess, well, he treats me like I'm his friend.

I didn't tell him everything. I couldn't. But he knows. He knows that my mom. . .

I feel cold. I always feel cold.

**

"Giles?" Xander called softly when he reached the top of the stairs, a blanket clutched around his shoulders. His teeth were chattering even though there was sweat on his brow. "Giles?" he said again, this time only marginally louder.

He heard a deep intake of air and then, "X-Xander?" The boy just stood there as he watched the Watcher sit up in bed. "What's wrong?" Giles asked through a yawn.

"I'm cold."

Giles reached out and turned on his bedside lamp. Squinting, he made out Xander's form. Grabbing, his glasses, he put them on and was able to see the boy better. "You're pale." Noticing the puffy eyes, Giles asked, "Have you been crying?"

Xander took a few steps closer to Giles' bed. "It's cold downstairs."

"Do you feel ill?" Moving off the bed, Giles stood next to the shivering boy and placed the back of his hand on Xander's forehead. "You feel hot. I don't have a thermometer, though."

Gathering courage, Xander asked in a soft childlike voice, "Can I stay up here with you?"

Giles blinked. "You mean. . .You want to sleep in my bed?"

Xander nodded. "With you."

Not about to deny the clearly troubled youth anything at the moment, Giles only hesitated for a moment before slipping back into bed and lifting up the covers, saying softly, "Of course you can."

Xander wasted no time sliding in between the sheets, his own cover still wrapped around him tightly. "Thanks," he said softly. A moment of stiff and still awkwardness passed and then Xander moved closer to the Watcher, almost curling around the older man.

"Xander?" Giles said softly. When he got no response, his only course of action was to wrap his arms around the trembling boy and hold him tightly. It wasn't until a few minutes later that he was aware that Xander was crying. The shoulder of his nightshirt had grown damp from the boy's tears and was cooling in the night air. "Xander?" he said again, running a hand through the teenager's hair.

Giles' voice seemed to have penetrated Xander's thoughts because at the sound, Xander pulled back abruptly. The fact that he was lying in the Watcher's bed in a darkened room finally hit him. Up until then, his mind was sort of blurry, not focused. "Giles?" he whispered as he wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

"Yes?" Giles partially sat up, leaning over the boy and letting his fingers gently stroke Xander's cheek. Xander just sighed as he found it hard to look into Giles' eyes. "Xander," Giles breathed. "Please. . ."

Giles' words stopped as Xander leaned up and brushed his lips against the older man's. Giles' shock was apparent in the way the Watcher was not kissing back. But when Xander became insecure and his lips stilled, Giles' kept them moving. His tongue came out to trace the line of Xander's upper lip but then retreated back into his mouth as he sucked Xander's bottom lip in between his. Gently he pulled on the lip, tasting it, experiencing it.

It was Xander's slight moan that pulled Giles out of the spell. Gasping for breath, he pulled back, still looking down at Xander. The boy's eyes fluttered open and Giles realized for the first time how long his eyelashes were. It was a strange realization, especially in light of the hurt contained within those chocolate brown eyes.

Giles' hand continued to stroke Xander's cheek, but the damage of prematurely ending the kiss had been done. Xander turned his head, making it so that Giles' fingers were no longer touching him. After another short moment, Xander scooted away and curled himself into a ball.

Giles followed him, pressing himself to Xander's back and leaning over the boy. His hand was brushing the hair away from his face as he tried to coax the boy back to him. "Xander," he said quietly, his accent thicker than normal. "Please, don't."

"Don't what?" was the choked and whispered response.

"Don't withdraw into yourself. I didn't mean anything by pulling away. I got too caught up and I forgot. . ."

"That it was fucked up Xander you were kissing."

"Stop it, Xander," Giles said sternly, genuinely tired of Xander thinking so poorly of himself.

"Okay, dad," Xander shot back, just to spite the man next to him.

"Xander," Giles said quietly, holding back the impulse to be harsh. "I want to help you but you're not letting me. Now, I cannot lie. I enjoyed every second of that kiss but you are in no condition to be doing things like that with a man half your age."

Rolling his eyes and sitting up, Xander hissed, "Fuck you," before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

**

It's so cold outside. It matches the temperature inside of me. I ran out of Giles' so fast and now I'm resting behind a large tree. I have bare feet and only a pair of sweat pants on. The blanket that had been keeping me warm was still back at Giles'. I dropped it in order to make it to the door quick enough.

I had heard Giles behind me, but I guess he wasn't fast enough to catch me. Honestly, I don't really know why I ran away.

I guess it was because when I'd kissed him, I wasn't so cold, but then when he stopped, I just got colder. Colder than normal.

And at the moment, I couldn't care less about anything. I mean, I have very little clothes on and I have no stake or cross. It'd be easy for some vampire or, hell, some bad human to get me. But I don't care because it's so cold.

**

"Xander?"

He just blinked. He didn't know why he'd gone to Oz's house. He didn't even know that he knew where Oz lived, but he was there, standing on the doorstep with his arms wrapped around himself, shivering.

"You okay?" Oz asked as he stepped back into the house and ushered Xander inside. The guitarist's eyes narrowed when Xander just stood there in the foyer, swaying back and forth slightly. The younger boy made no move to speak or to enter the house further. Closing the door and locking it, Oz moved into the living room. "I'm going to call Giles."

Before he knew it, Xander's hand was latched onto his forearm. He looked up, right into the scared face of Xander. "Please don't," Xander whispered.

Oz just stared at him for a minute. Concern pulsed through his veins and he wasn't sure if he should call the Watcher or not. Oz had always been loyal, but now he had to choose to whom he was going to be loyal. Giles or Xander. "Are you going to tell me what's going on."

Xander looked down. "I just couldn't stay there."

"Why?"

"I couldn't."

"That doesn't answer my question, Xand."

Looking up with big eyes, Xander asked, "Can I stay here tonight, Oz?"

"Xander. . ."

Taking the tone of Oz's voice the wrong way, Xander started to turn back to the door. "Fine, I'll go."

This time it was Oz's hand latching onto Xander's arm. "Where would you go?" Xander shrugged. Pulling him along, Oz led Xander through the house and up the stairs, into a spare room. "Tell me what's going on, Xander."

Moving to pull the comforter off the bed, Xander wrapped it around his shaking body as he sat down. "I just don't want to stay there anymore. I don't like."

Raising an eyebrow, Oz commented, "That's new." Sitting down next his friend, Oz turned to him. "Again, what's going on?"

Xander just looked at him. He looked at Oz so long that the usually unflappable boy started to get nervous. "Xan. . ." his words were cut off by Xander's mouth on his. Shocked, but not shocked, Oz let the kiss linger, letting Xander take his time and finish when he was ready. His lips didn't really move, but they didn't stay still. Oz was even noncommittal in his kisses.

When Xander pulled back, Oz moved his hand up to the boy's cheek, cupping it tenderly. Oz shook his head. "I'm not gay, Xander." The tone he used was gentle.

Rejection. Again. Xander fought the tears back as he stood up and backed away. Even though Oz didn't say it, Xander knew that the reason for the rejection was because he was fucked up. No one wanted someone as fucked up as him. Xander curse himself. First, for telling Oz about his mother and then for ever thinking that someone who knew about his mouth could ever want him.

Just as he had done with Giles, Xander turned and ran out. He took the blanket with him this time. Oz wasn't fast enough to catch him either. When he was half way down Oz's street, Oz was just then running out the door. Xander lost him easily.

As the sun started to peak out over the horizon, Xander sat huddled up behind the garage of his parents' house, with the blanket clutched tightly around him.

It would only be another few hours before his dad left for work. Then he could go in and steal a shirt and some socks from his dad's dresser. He was pretty sure his mom would even give him some coffee and something to eat. Something hot.

His teeth chattering, the only thing Xander wanted in the world at the moment was to get warm.

~end~