*****

"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.

ander 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 2:

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 3:

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 4:

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 5:

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 6:

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 7:

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... straight forward 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 8:

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?"

*****