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 10:

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 11:

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 12:

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