*****

The sound of the phone ringing shattered the peaceful silence of the Hyperion lobby.

Angel sat in his office half-heartedly flipping through the files Cordelia had thrust into his hands earlier in the day. Dropping the one he currently held, he leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. He listened to the phone's constant ringing, wondering where Cordy and Wes were. They knew he hated to answer the phone; after all that was why he had agreed to get that ridiculously priced answering machine. He suddenly remembered that Cordy had dragged Wesley off on her daily lunchtime shopping trip, which seemed to Angel to be lasting longer and longer each day.

With a sigh Angel reached for the handset that stood on his desk and pressed the button that would connect him to the latest 'hopeless' person.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." He thought that he sounded friendly but knew thanks to Cordelia's constant attempts to teach him phone etiquette that he didn't.

There was no reply but Angel could hear breathing on the other end of the line. It was laboured and Angel knew that the person either was injured or had just ran a great distance. If the person were in the room Angel knew he would hear the pounding of the heart and the steady rush of blood through the body.

"Hello?" He asked hoping against hope that this was a genuine client and not one of the 'perverted freaks' that Cordelia regularly dealt with or another wind-up. They'd been more and more of those since Wesley put an ad in the local newspaper.

He heard a slight cough and a sharp intake of breath, and then he heard the voice.

"A.Angel?"

Angel's mind was cast back to the last time he had heard such pain in that voice.

//He walked into the large room that held the fireplace. Knowing that Buffy would be over soon, he began to start a fire. He remembered once that she had told him that the house was too cold, almost inhuman. Ignoring the pang of pain that memory brought to his undead heart, he continued to build the fire.

Finally he had a comfortable blaze and could feel the heat through his body. He lost himself in the beauty of the flames but was jarred from his thoughts by a weak knock on the door. He knew that Buffy never came through the front door and she never even considered knocking, he was instantly wary. On the way he picked up an axe that was lying around haphazardly after an intense night of hunting demons. He reached for the door instantly aware that the person knocking was human. The vampire could hear the intense beating of their heart and the whisper of the blood flowing through the body. Dropping the hand that held the axe, he opened the door and couldn't suppress the gasp that escaped him as he saw his visitor.

Before him stood a haggard figure. Blood covered a great deal of his loud shirt and his trousers were ripped in a number of places. Angel looked up to his face and saw that the brown hair was dishevelled, matted down by mud and dirt in places. The boy's bottom lip was split and was smeared with rapidly drying blood. One of his eyes was closed; the skin around it puffed up and Angel knew if he saw it in light that it would be purple and an angry red.

The boy's breathing was raspy and Angel could see that he was holding his ribs. "Hey, dead-boy." Came the voice. The pain and anguish that Angel heard brought feelings long locked away to the surface but the hint of anger and quite possibly embarrassment he heard broke him out of his shock.

Speaking obviously caused more pain and Xander immediately lurched forward, only to be caught by Angel's steady grip. The axe, immediately forgotten at first sight of the boy.//

The coughing on the other end of the line brought Angel's mind back to the present. He winced as the coughing turned into heaving and he could hear the boy on the other end throwing up. Eventually he heard the voice again, but this time it was pleading and Angel could hear the underlying sadness.

"A. Angel, help me."

But the phone went dead before he could reply.

********************************

Sunnydale:

The sound of the bell at the front of the shop brought Buffy and Giles' training to an end. Buffy immediately grabbed a towel and ran out to greet the late-night visitor. Giles, however, slumped against the only wall not covered with weapons or training equipment, winded.

It was getting harder and harder for him to train the wayward slayer. He could only get in an hour's workout before she left for a date or to party with her college friends. She was rarely around to help with research and the ex-Watcher felt that it was becoming a problem. Willow, Tara and Xander still gave up their free time to help but Buffy seemed unwilling.

He pushed himself away from the wall and slowly walked towards the front of the shop, picking up a bottle of water and a towel on the way out. He started to wipe his face down only to remove the towel when he heard no sounds from the front of the shop. Giles knew that Willow, Tara and Dawn were out there going through his ancient collection looking for information on the latest demons to attack Sunnydale and had seen Buffy bound out there just seconds before.

When he reached the area where the self-named 'Scoobies' met he saw Buffy and Spike glaring at one another over the table and the three other girls huddling together and leaning away as if waiting for an attack.

"Spike." Buffy sneered, not moving, not blinking, waiting for the vampire to make one wrong move. She knew that he still had the chip in his head but she'd grown tired of putting up with him moaning, groaning and the occasional double-crosses.

Spike felt the same way about Buffy. Whenever he was at the Watcher's house or even offered to patrol she'd whine about wanting a normal life and the burden of the Slayer's 'responsibilities'. He knew that she was referring to Willow, Tara, Xander, Dawn and even Giles when it came to 'responsibilities' and that made him dislike her even more. He had come to have respect for all of the slayerettes, especially Xander. He didn't have any special skills yet he was there every night to help protect people and to offer moral support, if that's what you could call coffee and doughnuts. Well, almost every night, Spike thought, glancing around the room. He took note of the cowering girls and immediately changed his posture to a non-threatening one. He ignored the Slayer's words and turned directly to Giles.

"I'm lookin' for Xander. You seen 'im?"

Willow, who had been holding a startled Tara and Dawn while waiting for the fireworks to start, instantly looked up at Spike's words. The witch knew that Xander had a job with a local construction company but she also knew he finished before sunset to escape problems with the local nightlife. Xander's routine was simple in the evenings. He went home to give Spike some fresh blood and to get ready for the meeting at the shop. He rarely missed a meeting and she had just assumed that he would be along with Spike, but here Spike was asking for Xander. Her mood very quickly went from slight worry to abject terror for her best friend.

"What are you talking about Spike," She laughed weakly, trying to convince herself that Xander was okay. "He usually comes with you, doesn't he? But then he's not with you as I can see, as we all can see, right guys? So maybe he was asked to work late. You know that's what people do when they have a job, they work late, they do. I'm sure he's fine, there's nothing wrong with him, no-way."

She ended her panic-induced babble with a deep breath and a short shake of her head while reaching for the comfort of her girlfriend's hand.

Spike, who had been rooting around in his duster for a cigarette during Willow's little speech, was about to answer when Giles interrupted.

"I'm sure you're right, Willow. Xander is quite capable of looking after himself." He took the time to adjust his glasses and saw out of the corner of his eye Spike fumbling with a lighter. "Please don't light that."

"Bloody hell Watcher! You've got your tea, let me have my smokes!"

Giles had no intention of backing down, so Spike reluctantly put the lighter and cigarette away and went to pout over in one of the few dark corners in the shop.

"Why were you looking for Xan, Spike?" Dawn asked. She smiled at Spike to let him know she wasn't an enemy. He was the only one who didn't treat her with kid-gloves like she was going to break and, truth be told, she fancied him. Sure, Xander was cute in that goofy, construction worker way but she wasn't entirely convinced that he was interested in girls. Spike, on the other hand, was hot and dangerous, plus he could protect her. Her smile changed from friendly to dreamy and she almost missed the sexy vampire's reply.

"I'm stayin' with him, remember?" He used air quotations on 'staying'. He didn't mean to be rude to the chit, but Buffy was burning holes in him with her stare and he could almost smell the fear emanating from the witch. "I haven't seen him for a while and there's no blood. I'm hungry."

Giles fought back a snort at that reasoning, but Buffy didn't. "So what, Spike? You come to bug us? Xander's probably as sick of you as we are." She had a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she waited for everyone to agree with her but was met by scowls.

"Fine. You want blood? There's some in the back." With that she sat down and grabbed a book, slightly mad that no-one backed her up. Spike was annoying, and anyway Xander was a big boy and could take care of himself. After all, he helped fight evil with the best Slayer ever.

Spike wouldn't admit that he was worried about Xander, and as he went to fetch some blood, he wondered if he should tell the others about the bruises he had seen on the boy's body in the past few weeks that he had been staying over.

After draining a bag he figured it was Xan's own business and if he wanted everyone to know he would have told someone already.

"Well, can't say it's been a pleasure, people." He said by the way of goodbye. He was reluctant to feel anything around these people. As Angelus had once told him, demons did not feel. He was striving to believe that.

"But what about Xander, Spike? I mean, aren't you gonna look for him? Aren't you worried?"

Looking back, he saw Willow with a pleading look on her face. She knew something. He felt sorry for her and was going to give in when Angelus' voice echoed in his head and he remembered that he was the Big Bad and that he didn't worry about the food. "No luv, I've had me blood. Usually I'd go get laid right about now but Harm's out of town, so I'm going to go get some sleep."

Willow watched him leave and then turned back to the group. Everyone else was reading books, obviously not worried about Xander's disappearance, but Willow knew. She knew about his parents and the real reason he had moved down to the basement. She had seen countless bruises and cuts on Xander's body over the years and was even witness to one of the brutal scenes herself. She also knew that she couldn't do anything by herself and that he wouldn't be very appreciative of her help. He always insisted on dealing with everything himself.

A tear made its way down her cheek and Tara immediately reached over to wipe it away with her thumb.

"He'll b.be okay, y. you know." With a weak smile Willow picked up a new book and sent a silent prayer to the goddess that he was okay.

*****

Harris Residence, Sunnydale:

He felt a hand grab his shoulder right before he was spun around and the phone was torn from his grasp. His world was spinning and he closed his eyes trying to steady himself. He drew in a sharp breath as his ribs, which were undoubtedly broken, radiated pain. The throbbing in his chest held out the promise of unconsciousness, but he was denied it once again. His eyes shot open as another blast of pain, this time from his stomach, signalled that his father was far from finished with 'punishing' him.

Now unable to breathe, Xander crumpled to the floor. He curled up into a tight ball, protecting himself from his father's onslaught in the only way he could. Xander whimpered softly as his lungs heaved against his protesting ribs in a desperate attempt to get more oxygen into his body.

His father's drunken rages were never planned, but he had experienced enough of them to know that no part of him was safe.

Tears fell from his bruised eyes as he took a mental inventory of the damage to his body. It seemed his father wanted him immobile this time as he felt fire spread from his feet to his knees. Xander could still remember the crack of the baseball bat across the back of his knees and his father's angry screams that came with it.

This wasn't the worst he'd been through, and for that Xander was grateful. He shivered as he recalled the weeks he had spent in hospital after a 'nasty fall.' When Buffy and Willow visited, there were no wisecracks, just strained silence. They could never know about this. His heart broke as another memory flashed into his mind, this time from before his secret. He could still remember Willow screaming as his father beat him for not cleaning the house.

A hard boot put a welcome end to his memory and Xander couldn't help but cry out in agony as his back spasmed. Pain and defeat enveloped every part of his being as he heard the deep laugh above him. The cry had pleased his father, the man he was supposed to love and trust.

He barely heard the receding footsteps through the rush of blood in his ears and fought back the bile his heaving stomach threatened to bring forth.

He lay completely still after the door slammed and prayed to the Gods that it was over. It would take months to recover from this as it was and he didn't think he could take much more.

After what seemed like hours, Xander opened his eyes, unsurprised that he could barely see. Before him he saw the phone, now lying in a pool of blood. Thinking only of the previous call and the safety it would provide he reached out a battered hand to clasp the handset. Before he could scream, his whole body was racked with excruciating waves of pain. With each wave he could feel his body numbing and eventually felt his mind cloud over as he blacked out.

*****
tbc