*****

/am I flying?/

"...left him on her doorstep..."

/no...I'm not flying, I'm falling/

"...will he wake up?"

/at least it feels like falling/

"Xander?"

/calling...someone calling me...sorry, Xander can't come to the phone right now, he's too busy falling.../

Thud.

Xander moaned. He felt like he'd been catapulted from a great distance and had crashed into the ground, head first. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't ache, but his head was currently leading in the "source of greatest pain" contest. This was not a contest Xander ever wanted to enter again.

"Oh! Oh! He just made a noise and did the eyelid twitch thing! Xander? Can you hear me? Open your eyes, please, open your eyes now, okay?"

"Cordy?"

His lazy lashes shook off the haze, and he opened his eyes. "Unnnh...w-what? What are you doing...in my room? Please don't tell me...we finally had sex and I was...too drunk to remember," he groaned softly.

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Yeah, right. Pervert! You should be so lucky. In the unlikely event that you could ever convince me to sleep over in that gigantic pile of dirty laundry you insist on calling a bedroom, I'm sure you'd find some way to preserve the moment on video so you'd never forget."

Cordelia took his hand and gently placed it up to her cheek, and Xander was surprised to feel a faint wetness there, and saw that her eyes were red and swollen from recently shed tears.

"Who died?" he mumbled, his tongue still fuzzy.

"You did, almost. Welcome back."

Xander jumped a little when Oz's deadpan voice piped up from the other side of the room. Oz walked into view, and peered down at the bed. His hair was partly blue today, so Xander figured it must be Thursday. "Hey, did you see Elvis?" asked Oz.

"Huh?" Xander surveyed his surroundings, and realized he wasn't home in bed. He was in a hospital room, and the strange itch he felt on his arm was from an IV needle. He saw a tube running into his forearm from the drip bottle suspended at the side of his bed. He looked down and frowned when he saw the ugly striped hospital gown, and felt gauzy bandages wrapped around various achy parts of his body.

"Uh, sorry, no King." Xander wracked his brain for memories of how he'd gotten hurt, but his thoughts were nothing but muddied waters. Disjointed images and feelings swam through his mind, but he couldn't make sense of them.

/...strong hands crushing my wrists...someone singing.blood on my chest...and falling...I felt like I was falling.../

Xander blinked and licked his dry lips, and began to wonder if his memories should be filed into the "Things Better Left Alone" category.

"I knew Elvis wasn't really dead." Oz grinned and gestured to the open doorway. "I'm going to grab Willow and Buffy. You kids behave." He popped out, leaving Xander and Cordelia alone in the room.

"I died?" he rasped. His throat felt tight and scratchy. Nervousness and confusion were familiar feelings for Xander, but this was a situation where he really hated being Clueless Guy. He gripped her hand tightly, searching her face for a sign that Oz had been joking. "Cordy? What happened?"

"Shhh. It's all right now." She leaned against the bed and stroked his hair, her lip trembling almost imperceptibly. "You didn't die. Buffy found you, and she got you to the hospital on time."

/Buffy? Hard to remember.I was falling.and I was sticky and wet. She kept yelling at me to stay awake, but I didn't want to listen to her. I wanted to keep falling./

"I...I think I may have bled all over her porch." Xander put his hand to his neck, and felt for the bandage he instinctively knew would be there. He'd been bitten. Xander couldn't remember the circumstances, but he knew with absolute certainty what, well, actually *who* was responsible for the near-fatal wound. Who else would take the trouble to deliver his lifeless body to the Slayer's doorstep?

"Dead Boy," he whispered. He let go of Cordelia's hand, and felt his whole body clench into a fist. Nobody could stir up that queasy mix of fear and hatred in his stomach like Angelus. Xander was almost relieved that he couldn't recall everything that had happened to him. He was sickened enough as it was.

"I guess I won the Sunnydale lottery. Odds of surviving: 10 million to one."

"He'll never hurt anyone else again. Buffy promised us she'd kill him," she said, tears sliding down her face. "After what he did to you and Ms. Calendar, I wish I could trap him in a tanning bed with the lamps turned up full blast. Nobody tries to take my boyfriend away from me, nobody!"

Xander let a small smile nudge through his anxiety as he marveled at the genuine concern in her eyes. "Death by beauty salon, huh? I guess I'd better stay on your good side for the next few weeks. I'd hate to have you punish me with a painful leg wax or a bad home perm."

"Too late, you're already in big trouble." Cordelia stood up and wagged her finger at Xander. "Your little trip to the hospital means I'm missing Aura's annual beach party, which is only the most significant social event of the season. You owe me big time, buster." She smiled and wiped at her damp eyes.

"Wow. Taking care of my life threatening injuries falls higher on your list of priorities than hanging out with a bunch of snobby, bulimic cheerleaders. I'm touched, really," he chuckled. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that. You know, I noticed there are lots of utility closets in this hospital." Cordelia leaned in and kissed Xander lightly on the lips. He winced and shrank away from her touch.

/dead leaves.her lips tasted like decay/

Surprised by his reaction, Cordelia stepped back. "What, did I hurt you?"

/What the heck was that? Since when am I scared of smootchies with Cordy?/

"Uh, sorry...I guess I'm still a little sore." Xander patted Cordelia's arm apologetically. "Give me a couple of Tylenols and another plasma injection, and I'll be back in the closet in no time. Err, with you. Back in the closet with my extremely kissable girlfriend is what I meant to say."

"Xander!"

Willow and Buffy rushed into the room. Cordelia struggled to remain supportive and non-threatened while the two girls swept her boyfriend up in a whirlwind of tears, hugs and kisses. Armfuls of balloons, flowers and chocolates were shoved in his general direction while his best friends recounted how scared they'd been after he'd been hurt, and how grateful they were that he was going to be okay.

Xander grinned at all the attention he was receiving. "Man, if getting bit by a vampire is going to make all the hot chicks in town happy to see me, I've gotta do this more often!"

/That's right...keep it light, man. Make with the jokes, and whatever you do, don't let any of them see how freaked out you are./

"Don't you dare!" shushed Willow. With Oz in tow, she hopped up on an empty hospital bed. They sat side by side, holding hands. "Once is enough, mister. We've seen way too much of this hospital. Hey, Buffy, isn't this the room you stayed in last week?"

Last week. Last night was fuzzy, but he couldn't forget his confrontation in the hospital corridor with Angelus last week. The vampire had scared the bejesus out of Xander, but he'd stood up to him and protected the fair maiden from harm.

Buffy grimaced and shrugged her shoulders as she arranged the gifts on Xander's bedside table. "Ech. Don't remind me, Will. Bed-ridden Buffy was not a good Buffy to be. At least we know we cleared out the Der Kinderstod before Xander showed up. Leave it to me to make your hospital stay demon-free, big guy." Translation: I'll make sure Angel can't waltz in here and finish the job.

As he looked at Buffy, hidden memories spilled out from under the black velvet curtain in his mind. Xander could sense Angel lurking in the shadows, hidden somewhere behind the veil. As the curtain rustled, he thought he could hear singing, and faint traces of laughter. He remembered calling out Buffy's name, and a burning sensation, a pain so intense it felt like swimming in molten lava.

/Were you there? Did you see, Buffy? No...no, I don't think you did. You couldn't help me. I was all alone./

He shuddered and tried to blink the scary thoughts away. Not going to go there just yet. Xander wanted some time alone to go over the home movies in his mind, because he was pretty sure they were not appropriate for the general viewing audience. The curtain was going to remain closed for the time being.

Xander had a hard time keeping his emotions in check when their eyes locked. Buffy wasn't just his friend, she was his hero. He loved this wonderful, amazing girl who had saved his life on more than one occasion. Yet he was embarrassed to feel a trickle of resentment towards her, too.

Xander wouldn't be lying in this hospital bed if she hadn't released Angelus into the world. Buffy couldn't bring herself to kill her ex-lover, and now Xander and all his other victims were paying the price for her folly. He tried his suppress that bitter thought.

"Buffy...um, I can't remember much of anything, but Cordy told me that you saved my life." He chuckled. "Hey, what else is new, right? Anyway...thank you."

Her eyes rimmed with tears, Buffy pushed a stray lock of hair out of Xander's face, and he knew her affection for him was strong. Not the love he'd always hoped for.but he supposed it was enough. "Just returning the favor," she said, keeping the mood light. "You know, we really need to find new ways to hang, 'cause giving CPR and bringing each other to the hospital just doesn't spell fun like it used to."

"Know what spells fun in my book? Naked Twister. Less potential for fatalities," offered Xander, generating disgusted looks from the three girls in the room.

"Yet plenty of potential for bodily injury," drawled Oz. "Just ask Devon about the "right foot blue" incident. He still has scars, both emotional and physical."

"Hey, he said he got that..." Cordelia, keying off Xander's jealous look, trailed off without finishing her sentence.

A matronly nurse dressed in soft, peachy scrubs floated into the room, checking Xander's medical chart and the IV drip with practiced ease. "Alexander, it's nice to see you awake and smiling. You gave all your friends here quite a scare.they haven't left the hospital all night. They also helped us track down your parents. Don't worry, they're driving home from your Aunt's place in Eureka, and they'll be here in a couple of hours." She smiled warmly and wrote a few things on his chart.

"Oh, yeah. Mom and Dad. They're going to be really excited to see me once they get the hospital bill. Think you can give me a shot or something so I can clear out of here before they show up?" he asked.

The nurse indulged him by giggling at his joke, and explained that although he was progressing nicely, she still needed to examine him. "Would you kids mind stepping outside for a moment?" Cordelia and Willow hugged him on their way out the door, but Buffy paused at Xander's bedside.

"He's going down, Xander," she whispered so the nurse couldn't hear. "No more Ms. Nice Slayer, he won't ever lay a canine on any of my friends again." She squeezed his hand.

/I wish I could believe her, but despite what he's done, she'll always love him. And that hurts more than anything I feel right now./

He nodded, but couldn't say anything in response. She backed out of the room. "I'll be right out here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

The nurse drew the privacy curtains around the bed. "I'm going to check your dressings now. You have several serious incisions, and I want to make sure there's no sign of infection." She pulled the thin, white hospital blanket and sheet to his waist, and gently unfastened his hospital gown at the shoulder. He cringed a little as the adhesive tugged his skin when she pulled back the bandage at his throat. The nurse gasped.

"What? What? Gangrene? Oh god, please tell me you don't have to amputate my head!" Xander looked to the nurse for reassurance, his nervousness increasing when he saw her shocked face.

"No...I...it's gone. I don't understand. Your neck...there was a deep gash. How could it have healed so quickly?" She smoothed her fingers along his neck trying to find a wound that wasn't there.

"What?" Xander pulled one of the Mylar "Get Well Soon" balloons closer and peered at himself in the reflective surface. There was no scar. The old bandage had absorbed some of his blood, but the wound itself was now completely healed.

"Please, may I see the other one?" asked the nurse.

/Other one? Jeez, how many places did I get bit? Yuck. I don't think I want to know the answer to that question. Fangs in new places...gyah!/

The nurse seemed almost scared to look at the other bandage. Xander seconded that emotion. She pushed his hospital gown down further, and he noticed for the first time the large bandage covering his chest. It was Xander's turn to gasp when the nurse removed the dressing.

Crudely tattooed above his heart was a large, crimson "A."

*****
Part 2:

It itched.

Xander rubbed his chest, irritated with the tattoo he neither asked for nor wanted.

/Great. Thanks a bunch, Dead Boy. How am I supposed to explain the huge "A" on my chest to everyone in gym class? I don't think anyone is going to buy "I cut myself shaving" or "I ran with scissors."/

He still felt tired and achy, but at least all his wounds had healed. Which was both good news and bad news. Good because it meant Xander wasn't going to die, but bad because no human being should be able to regenerate so quickly. The doctors wanted to study Xander more closely to determine the reason for his lightning fast recovery, but his Mom just wanted to bring him home.

Xander's parents were in the hallway, busy arguing with the doctors to get him released. He tried not to cringe when he heard phrases like "an extra night is too expensive" and "that's not covered by our insurance."

His parents hadn't seen him when he'd originally been brought to the hospital, so Xander didn't think they really comprehended how serious his condition had been. One night of bed rest isn't enough to cure someone who had his throat ripped out and three-fourths of his blood drained from his body. Xander wished the doctors could give him a reasonable explanation for his recovery, but after living on the Hellmouth for so long, he knew the answers wouldn't be found in any medical textbook.

He scratched his chest while he worried about his current situation.

Xander crawled out of bed and walked to the window. The sunlight shining through the glass didn't burn him, and he had a pulse, so he knew Angelus hadn't somehow turned him into a vampire. Thank God for that. Xander would rather have died than become a soulless killer.

"Ahem."

"Giles!" Xander whirled around and tugged self-consciously at his short hospital gown. "Uh, what I wouldn't give for a pair of Snoopy pajamas right now!"

He crept back to the bed, keeping his backside carefully to the wall, and slipped below the covers while Giles pretended to be interested in Xander's balloon bouquet.

Giles sat down in the chair next to the bed. "I spoke to your parents and the doctor, and they said I could see you. They filled me in on your unusual medical status. So tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Fine." A beat. "Well, about as fine as anyone is going to feel after being attacked by a 241-year-old bloodthirsty sociopath. I'm not loving the back draft from this little dress they make me wear, either, but once you get past all that stuff, I guess I'm good. Did you see the girls or Oz out there?"

"Buffy insisted on staying outside to protect you, but I sent the others back to school. I-I hope you don't mind, Xander, but I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Uh oh. If what you have to say to me has anything to do with me becoming a flesh-eating zombie, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to be an extra in the next George Romero movie..."

"No, don't worry, you're not a zombie," interrupted Giles gently. Usually the Watcher was annoyed by Xander's sense of humor, but now he was going out of his way to be patient and kind with the boy. "Zombies are reanimated corpses, and you didn't die. That's the part I don't understand. You should be dead."

Realizing that sounded callous, Giles tried to cover his blunder. "Er, not that we aren't all completely relieved that you're still with us, Xander. What happened to you was terrible. If you're not up to talking about your experience yet, I'll understand, but I think we need to explore whether there are supernatural forces at work here. I'm...concerned about you. I want to understand what's going on."

"You and me both," Xander agreed. "I've been trying to piece together what happened yesterday. I have freaky little flashes where I can almost remember stuff, but it's like my brain turned into an Etch-a-Sketch...all shook up and totally blank. The whole not-dying thing has me really stumped, too." He hesitated, and swallowed uncomfortably while he considered whether he should trust Giles with his secret. "But not as much as this." Xander unfastened his gown, revealing his tattoo.

"Good lord!" Giles gaped at the large, red "A" someone had scraped into Xander's chest, a barbaric reminder of the assault he had endured. There was an awkward pause while Giles tried to compose himself. "I-I'm sorry Xander. I had no idea..."

"What is it? Please, look at it and tell me what it means," begged Xander. "The doctors are all spooked about me being Mr. Speedy Recovery guy, so give it to me straight. Do you think this thing is some kind of magical mojo that kisses my boo-boos and makes them better, or should I be filling out an application for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?"

Giles' leaned in to examine the mark. "I don't know...hmmm, curious. The technique used to pigment your skin is very unusual. The design is crude, but the clarity and color of the tattoo are extraordinary. I wonder...does the A stand for Angelus?"

"Ya think?" Xander laughed bitterly. "Gee, thanks for coming by, Fountain of Knowledge. I don't think I could've figured that part out without you. I thought maybe Dead Boy got inspired after reading Nathaniel Hawthorne and decided to give me my very own scarlet letter."

Giles was somber when he glanced up at Xander. "That isn't funny."

"Cut me some slack. Inappropriate humor is my defense mechanism of choice. Besides, you should be proud that even though I don't know what happened yesterday, I actually remembered something from English class."

Xander softened, the sarcasm leaving his voice. "I-I'm sorry for jumping down your throat. All of a sudden my life has turned into "Unsolved Mysteries," and I'm having a problem dealing."

"That's understandable. Survivors of vampire attacks are usually extremely traumatized by the experience, and memory loss is very common. It explains why so many victims haven't reported their assaults to the authorities. What that unholy bastard did to you...it's reprehensible. We will stop him, Xander. I give you my word."

They shared a look, both of them understanding the gravity of Xander's situation. Angelus was a dangerous foe. He was calculating, deliberate, and his actions usually had deadly consequences. The strange mark could very well be part of a spell or a curse designed to destroy him. Giles examined the tattoo again, and without thinking, he brushed his fingers against the angry red lines.

When Giles touched him, Xander had a brief flash of an unpleasant memory, of Angelus holding him down, whispering in his ear. He shuddered as he remembered how the vampire's cruel hands and his own suffocating terror had immobilized him.

/"With this mark, your blood becomes mine."/

Then the feeling was gone. He gulped, and shifted away from Giles. Suddenly the older man's close proximity made him very uncomfortable. He trusted Giles, but when he'd touched Xander's chest, it released something. Something Xander didn't think he was ready to remember yet. Something he may never be willing to remember.

"Does it...does it hurt?" Giles asked. He sensed Xander's unease, and put some distance between himself and the bed. He lowered his eyes apologetically, and cleaned his glasses even though they were already spotless.

"No, but it kinda itches." He fumbled with the Velcro fasteners on his gown. "The doctor said that was normal. Call me crazy, but I don't think there's anything normal about a vampire trying to carve his freaking name on my chest. Sheesh, don't any of your dusty Watcher books have information about this kind of thing?"

"Well," Giles stalled, reluctant to reveal what he knew. "Well, er...tattoos are used symbolically in some rituals to denote...ahem, ownership or a common bond.a brand, if you will."

"A brand? So that means I'm like Angel's cow?" Xander's face wrinkled indignantly. "He branded me like I'm supposed to be his freaking livestock? I'm so going to kill him!" He brushed the flower bouquet off the bedside table, and the glass vase shattered on the ground. The balloons floated off into the corner.

/Cow. Meat. Food. I'm food to him. He's tasted me once. What if he likes how I taste? Is he going to come back for me again? Is he going to kill me next time? I couldn't protect myself before...how can I ever be safe from him again?/

Xander turned on his side, not wanting the other man to see how afraid he was. Giles tried to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, but the young man didn't want to be touched by anyone at the moment.

"I want it off, Giles. Please, go read your books, and find some way to get rid of it. I can't handle having Angel's brand on me, like I'm some kind of farm animal he's fattening up for slaughter."

"We don't know that for sure. That's just one possibility. The bra...um, tattoo may just be Angelus' idea of a sick joke, so we'll do some research. Don't worry. We'll find the answers." Giles picked up the remains of the flowers and the vase, and threw them in the trash while Xander stewed on the bed.

The nice nurse in the peach uniform breezed into the room. "Alexander, good news! The doctors have agreed to release you, so you can go home. Your parents are signing some forms right now, but they'll be here momentarily. They've brought you a change of clothes, so you can get dressed whenever you're ready." Xander thanked her as she placed a brown paper bag on the foot of his bed, and then she left.

"Well, I suppose I'd better be off. I'll go straight to the library and begin our research." Giles stood up to leave. "Buffy is waiting outside, and she'll make sure you arrive home safely. Xander...if you do start to remember anything...and you need to talk to someone about it, don't hesitate to call me. Day or night, I mean it."

"Thanks, man. Hey, can you do me a favor?" Xander asked.

"Anything."

"Keep this -" he waved his hand over his chest "- between us for now, okay? I don't want anyone else to worry."

Giles started to shake his head, ready to tell him that wasn't a good idea, but stopped. Xander may have grown somewhat accustomed to witnessing acts of violence in the past year, but this was his own personal trauma. Angelus had assaulted and permanently maimed him. If he wanted privacy to work out his feelings, Giles would give it to him. After all, he was no stranger to the type of mental cruelty the vampire was capable of inflicting. "I'll do as you ask, for now. But..."

"...but if there is any chance that this is some sort of sinister plot that puts all of us in danger, we'll tell them. I know. I don't want to keep the Scoobs in the dark. I just...this is scary, bizarre stuff for me. Embarrassing, you know? We can talk about the biting part, but the tattoo is taboo. Got it?"

Giles nodded. "Take care, Xander. I'll see you soon."

When the Watcher had left and he was alone in the room, the tattoo nagged at him. He rubbed at it, wishing that he could scrub it off as easily as an ink stamp and make everything go away. But the maddening itch and his fears about Angelus were only getting worse.

/Why do I have a really bad feeling that there isn't anything anyone can do to help me?/

*****
Part 3:

Xander waited.

It was several hours after he'd been released from the hospital. Xander sat alone in his room and listened while Patsy Cline's melancholy voice crooned to him from his stereo speakers. He'd selected the "music of pain" for tonight's listening pleasure, because he wasn't sure which of his albums fell into the "music of upset stomach" category.

Earlier his mom had tried to push chicken soup and apple juice down his throat, babying him like she used to when he was little. On any other night, he would have appreciated this rare display of maternal instinct, but his queasy stomach wanted nothing to do with comfort food. He'd told her he wanted to go to bed early, and shut himself inside his room.

Willow had called him fifteen minutes ago to let him know they would be having a Scooby meeting, and now he was waiting for his ride to show up. He was jittery as he scanned the darkened street.

/Is he out there? Is he waiting for me somewhere?/

Xander clutched the large wooden cross in his hand, and patted his jacket pocket to make sure the small bottle of holy water was still tucked inside, next to his stake. He felt a little safer knowing he had his mini-arsenal of anti-vampire weapons. Not much, but a little.

/He's not going to get me this time./

He swallowed uncomfortably, his mild case of heartburn and nausea still gnawing at him. He took a couple of antacid tablets to get rid of it, and scratched at his chest again. Nerves. That's all it was.

He heard the distinctive rumble of a Volkswagen van approaching the house. He looked out his window and immediately recognized Oz's zebra-striped vehicle. After making a Xander-shaped mound in his bed with pillows and dirty clothes, he slid open his window and crept outside.

Oz kept the motor running as Xander ran up to the van. The spiky-haired boy greeted him with a succinct "hey" as he unlocked the door. Xander clambered inside.

"Hey. Where's Willow?" Xander asked, not used to seeing Oz in a girlfriendless state.

"She and Buffy are speaking the language of love." Oz switched gears and drove towards the high school. The remark set off Xander's innuendo radar, and he raised his eyebrows.

"French. Studying at the library for their French test tomorrow," clarified Oz with a tiny smile on his lips.

"Oh."

/Darn. A sexy little lesbian fantasy would be just the trick to help me keep my mind off of my Dead Boy phobia./

Xander tried to settle into the car seat, but felt something poking him. He felt underneath him until he found a plastic CD case stuck in the crevice of the car seat.

/Blue Oyster Cult. "Don't fear the reaper." Ha, freaking ha./

He sighed and tossed the CD case in the back of the van, which was littered with other CD cases, guitar picks, empty water bottles, heavy iron manacles, and other Oz-related clutter.

Oz's nose twitched. He gripped the steering wheel and slowed the van down a little. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, drawing in a slow, deep breath.

"What? What is it, Lassie? Is Timmy in trouble?" asked Xander. He knew that even when Oz wasn't hairy and toothy, he still possessed a keen, werewolf-enhanced sense of smell. Xander tensed and looked out the windows, searching for what made Oz's doggie sense tingle.

As he scanned the horizon nervously, his stomach churned, and he could taste bile in his throat. His heartburn felt even worse, and the nagging itch on his chest flared up again. His heart rate increased along with his discomfort. "Shit...is it Dead Boy? Is he nearby?"

"No...it's..." Oz glanced over at Xander. "You smell...different."

"What?" Xander smelled his clothes and under his armpits. "Do I have B.O.? Are you sure? I just took a shower..."

Oz's normally stoic face betrayed a hint of confusion. "No, man. Different. Good. Like bacon double cheeseburger good." He turned the van around the corner, and they approached the Sunnydale High School parking lot.

"Good? Smelling like a hamburger is good? Are you sure it's not that time of the month, pal? I mean, last I checked, the full moon wasn't gonna be out until next week." After being bitten by a vampire, Xander was very apprehensive about being compared to food. He pressed himself against the car door to keep an acceptable minimum distance between himself and the werewolf.

Oz brought the van to a stop outside the rear library door. The two young men kept a wary eye on each other as they climbed out of the van. "I'm not kidding, Xander. You've changed. You don't smell, um...human anymore."

"That's because he's not." Oz and Xander were both startled by the voice, followed by a loud thump as something heavy jumped from the roof of the building onto the top of the van. They looked up and saw Angelus standing above them.

"Run," yelled Xander as he stumbled backwards. The van stood between him and the entrance to the school, meaning his most direct escape route was blocked. With a trembling hand, he lifted the cross in front of him. "Get Buffy!" Oz darted towards the library as Angelus leapt from the van to the ground, his duster billowing in the air like a cape.

/I knew this would happen...Oh God, oh God.../

Angelus walked forward and leaned against a lamppost, his arms crossed, looking as casual as a man waiting for the bus. "Hello, Xander. Long time no see."

"Damn it, what did you do to me? W-what do you mean I'm not human anymore?" demanded Xander, unable to prevent a tremor in his voice. He held up the cross, and backed slowly away from the vampire. His heartburn had kicked into overdrive, and his chest really did feel like it was on fire. The tattoo was itching like crazy, and he scrabbled at his chest with his free hand.

"You don't look so good. Feeling okay? Anything I can do to help?" asked the vampire, a faux look of concern on his face. In long, confident strides, he made his way towards Xander.

"Stay away from me!" Xander clutched his chest and tried to will the intense burning sensation away. His whole body shook, and the cross wavered in front of him as Angelus continued his approach. Xander's common sense screamed at him to get the hell out of Dodge, but his body refused to get up on the horse. He remained rooted in place, powerless to leave.

/I need...I need something.../

"Buffy! Help! We got us a vampire in dire need of slayage, twelve o'clock!" he shouted. The broken VCR containing his memories suddenly whirred into motion and started its video playback. Xander didn't like how this movie was going. He remembered a fist slamming into his face...the taste of blood on his lips...Angelus straddling his hips.

/"She can't help you now. No one can."/

"I only want to help you, Xander. You need me. C'mon, put down the cross, and I'll make you feel a whole lot better, I promise." Angelus was only a few feet away now, so close, if Xander reached out, he could almost touch him...

/Do as he says...let him take what he wants.../

He quickly cast that traitorous thought aside. "No way! Don't...don't come any closer," begged Xander as his knees buckled beneath him. The cross in his hand felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and he dropped it.

He knelt on the ground, wracked with violent tremors as hot magma coursed through his veins. His body temperature was so intense; he thought his shirt was going to burst into flames. "What did you do to me, you son of a bitch? What am I?" he croaked.

"You're my pomme de sang." The strange words that rolled off Angelus' laughing tongue were completely meaningless to Xander, and yet the vampire spoke them as if they explained everything, like the punch line to a joke he found extremely amusing.

Angelus dragged Xander to his feet, and shifted to his vampire face. Xander scrabbled inside his jacket and pulled out the wooden stake, but the vampire snapped his wrist and the weapon tumbled to the ground.

"Aargh!" Xander cried out as Angelus wrapped himself around his prey. "Stop it...unh...burning up!" Delirious from the heat, he struggled feebly against Angelus and the irrational desire to surrender, to let the vampire drain his fiery blood and relieve him of his torment.

He moaned after the buttons of his shirt were undone, and enticingly cool fingers grazed the hot furnace of his chest, shredding the sweat-soaked t-shirt as if it were wet newspaper. "Please..."

"You want me to touch you, don't you?" whispered Angelus, his lips floating ghost-like over Xander's trembling throat. "Me. You need me, don't you?"

/He's causing the pain...he's trying to prove something...show that he owns me!/

Shaking and sweating profusely, torn between craving and abhorring Angel's cool skin against him, Xander groaned "fuck you" in a heavy, panting breath with all the defiance he could muster. Little black dots swam before his eyes, and his breaths were quick and irregular. It was all Xander could do to stay above the pain and keep from passing out.

"Already did." Angelus smiled, his slick glistening fangs piercing Xander's neck just as he pressed his icy hand over the tattoo. Bright red light radiated through pale fingers. Xander froze, unable to breathe and consumed by an explosive supernova of sensation. He was embarrassed to realize that the closest thing he could compare the experience to was an orgasm, but instead of his seed, he could feel his life essence erupting from his throat in a powerful, superheated rush.

At first, it was agony...the boiling blood scalded him as it coursed through his veins, and the loud, hungry, suckling moans assaulted his ears, an infuriating reminder that the vampire received pleasure as well as sustenance from the act. But the strong suction drew the liquid fire out of him, which also gave him the curious sense of...release. The fire had burned out. The glow dimmed as the vampire gorged himself on Xander's blood, but not before the light illuminated the dark shadows in his mind and allowed him to see everything with perfect clarity. He understood.

/Pomme de sang. That's the curse...let him take my blood, or suffer the pain. The tattoo binds me to him, gives him power over me...forces me to.../

Sated, Angelus withdrew his fangs and slid his blood-smeared lips up Xander's throat and chin to claim his mouth in a possessive, triumphant kiss...

And Xander remembered. He remembered everything.

*****
Part 4:

*FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT*

Angelus burst through the door to Drusilla and Spike's bedroom, dragging Xander with him. The room was dark, lit only by a handful of candles. It was dank and cold, with dots of mildew on the walls, and lacy cobwebs adorning every crevice. There was an ornate, four-poster bed draped in silk in the corner, and Drusilla rose from it to greet her guests. Angelus shoved the boy into her waiting arms. "Dru, look what I picked up at the store!"

She smiled as she admired her visitor. "I remember you. I loved you once. But you ran away before I could give you a kiss, you naughty boy." Drusilla pouted as she ran her fingers down Xander's face and followed the curve of his neck down to his collarbone. "That was very rude." He gulped, frozen in place.

"Listen, if...if I said I was sorry and promised I'd never screw around with magic again, would you forgive me and let me go?" He shuddered when she pushed her hand under his collar and caressed the concave stretch between his neck and collarbone. Xander could feel a blush rising when her cool fingers touched him. "Um...y-you don't want to get involved with me, really. I make a terrible boyfriend, just ask Cordelia...I never call, I don't have any money, and forget about wheels..."

She dug her finger into the collar of his shirt and yanked it, ripping it down the front as Xander yelped. "Great! Cordy just got me this shirt! She's going to kill me...uh..."

/Reality check, Brainiac! Cordelia and her stringent fashion requirements are not your biggest worries when you're currently trapped in a room with two vampires!/

Drusilla hummed as she divested him of the tattered remains of his shirt, her eyes gleaming with anticipation like a hungry child unwrapping a piece of candy. Xander tried to shove past her and head for the door, but she grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him effortlessly onto the four-poster bed. With inhuman speed, she trapped him before he could scramble away.

Xander grunted when Drusilla slammed him down on his back. "Unh...let go!"

"Why so tense, Xander? You're going to get lucky with a vampire tonight. Haven't you ever fantasized about that before?" teased Angelus as he circled around the room.

"No way! I stopped having those kinda dreams after meeting Miss French and Ampata. Sorry, lady, but I'm through dating monster chicks who want to kill me after making with the smootchies. Stick with Dead Boy or the Billy Idol wannabe, 'cause I'm totally not interested!"

Unphased by his insults, Drusilla knelt at the edge of the bed and kept Xander's wrists pinned to either side of the black, silk-covered mattress. While he twisted and squirmed in her grasp, she sang him a lullaby as if he were a fussy child. "Old Roger is dead and gone to his grave...hm, ha...gone to his grave. They planted an apple tree over his head..."

With her porcelain skin and heart-shaped face, she looked quite delicate, but Xander was learning the hard way not to judge Drusilla by her appearance. Circles of purplish-blue bruises were already starting to blossom around his wrists from her excruciatingly strong hands. He shivered and tried to block out the sound of her eerie, child-like voice as she nuzzled his neck and sang into his ear.

"...and the apples were ripe and ready to drop! There came an east wind a-blowing them off..." From her upside-down vantage point, she blew a gentle puff of air into Xander's face. "You're the apple, Alexander. Will you taste as sweet, I wonder?"

"Huh? Apples? Dead Boy, what the heck is she babbling about?" Xander strained his neck to see Angelus across the room. He was content to lean against the wall with an unreadable, enigmatic smile stretched across his lips while Drusilla tormented the boy.

"Oh, I'm the apple, all right," he said to Drusilla. "The forbidden fruit, so don't touch!" Despite his cocky attitude, Xander wasn't feeling particularly brave. He kept expecting Buffy to burst through the door to rescue him, and with every Slayer-free passing moment, the fear clawing at his gut worsened.

"I like to sin," murmured Drusilla. When Xander tried to roll off the bed, she nipped at his throat, causing him to freeze and inhale sharply. She kissed the spot where she'd nibbled him.

"Do be still." Drusilla flashed him a wicked upside-down smile while she tickled his cheeks with her silky, brown hair. Her tiny pupils bored into him like poisoned darts, making him dizzy when he looked up into eyes.

"What do you want from me?" The chill of the room bored into him, making Xander feel shriveled and small. As his limbs trembled and his chest heaved with every breath, he felt like he was gliding along the cool, smooth sheets. He tried to clench the numbness out of his trapped hands.

"Hush, my precious. Don't be frightened. Daddy has a special gift for you." She giggled and glanced up at her Sire. She smiled appreciatively when he stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. Angelus strode towards them and stood at the opposite edge of the bed, his pale, muscular chest now bare, and his tight leather pants couldn't mask his arousal. The vampire's eyes weren't focused on Drusilla.

/I don't like the way he's looking at me. H-he's a guy! H-he loved Buffy! Nobody ever told me that Angel liked...oh God!/

"Uh, Dead Boy...hold up there, buddy. Time out. It's not my birthday, you don't need to give me any presents, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep that package to yourself." Xander tried to back away from him, but his flailing ankles couldn't find any purchase on the slick silk sheets.

"This is going to be so damned fun." Angelus chuckled as he looked down at the terrified human waiting for him on the bed. "But not for you, kid."

"No...don't do this. Let me-" When Drusilla silenced his pleas with a kiss, her lips tasted rotten, like dead leaves. How could someone who looked so innocent be this perverse and corrupt at the core? He was repulsed rather than aroused by her deceptive beauty, and shook his head to break away from her kiss.

His terror mounted when Angelus slithered slowly up his legs, like a snake wrapping itself around its prey. He crushed Xander with his sleek, cool body. His tongue danced out and licked Xander's chest, tracing slow patterns above his heart. When Xander cursed him and tried to kick him, Angelus tweaked his captive's groin roughly, a sinister laugh rumbling from deep inside his chest.

"What's the matter, kid? I thought you found me very attractive. Isn't that what you told Willow?" Angelus ran his hand slowly down Xander's jeans, popping the buttons of his fly one by one. With tantalizing patience, the vampire shucked the boy's pants over his wriggling hips, and pulled them away, leaving only his white cotton boxer shorts.

"Get the hell away from me! Don't touch me! Help!" Xander shrieked, fighting back tears of shame as the vampire fondled his sex through the thin fabric. He jerked his wrists in a desperate attempt to push Angelus away, but Drusilla clutched him in her steely grip.

/Please, Buffy, hurry up and get here...please don't let him do this to me!/

"You are such a noisy dolly," said Drusilla, delighted by his panic. "Your lips would look so pretty wrapped in silk. But Angelus told me not to. He wants to unleash the screams trapped inside your chest, and he's going to let them out for you. Soon you will be singing for me, my sweet."

In a swift, jerking movement, Angelus sat up and straddled the boy, imprisoning him between his powerful thighs. He let out mocking, exaggerated moans of pleasure as he rubbed himself against his captive.

Xander hated the forced intimacy, their bodies so close together, and bucked with all his might to free himself. "Stop it! I-I-I'm not going to...not with a man...not with you..."

Angelus laughed and rode the thrashing boy, enjoying Xander's frustrated groans and the friction between them. "Yes, just like that...oh, yeah, you're making me hot! Are you sure you're not gay, Harris?"

"Please, somebody help me!" cried Xander, kicking and pushing against the vampires with every ounce of strength he had. "Buffy! Buffy!"

Drusilla mimicked his anxious cries before Angelus backhanded Xander's face over and over until his struggles ceased. "She can't help you now. No one can." Drusilla moaned in time with each blow, reveling in the infliction of pain, even if it wasn't her own. The blood flowed freely from Xander's nose and lip, and his smoky brown eyes smoldered with helpless rage.

Angelus licked the droplets of blood from his knuckles. "Mmmm. I know virgin blood when I taste it. You're as pure as a sacrificial lamb. How long have you and Cordelia been dating now? I've smelled more come on that snatch than the inside of a peep show booth. Shit, you really are a loser if you can't even manage to get laid with the biggest whore in Sunnydale."

"You...son of a bitch! Don't...don't you ever talk about her like that." Angry tears poured down Xander's face and stained the black sheets even darker.

"I'll do what I please. I can play with you, your slutty cheerleader, or anybody I want to. Who's going to stop me?" He laughed. "Buffy? The Slayer will never have the strength to kill me, because she's a weak, lovesick little fool. And you're pathetic..."

"Fuck you!" screamed Xander. Angelus smacked his face again and continued as if Xander hadn't said anything.

"You couldn't kill a paraplegic man with a heart condition if I gave you a bullhorn, a flamethrower, and the controls to his wheelchair. No, you're strictly prey, Xander. Bottom of the food chain, and that's where you're always going to stay. Rupert's gypsy whore isn't the only one around here who knows a thing or two about curses, as you'll soon find out."

/What is he talking about? Damn you, Buffy...why aren't you here? You unleashed this monster, the least you could do is show up and clean up your mess!/

"Make me a drawing, Daddy, like you promised me," cooed Drusilla. "I want to hear our little nightingale sing."

Angelus leaned across and claimed her lips in a hungry, lusty kiss while Xander lay petrified beneath them. Drusilla slid her tongue over her lips and purred after Angelus drew back, reached into the drawer of the bedside table, and pulled out a strange instrument.

He waved the tool in front of Xander's face, teasing the air with its needle-sharp tip. Xander could see that it was very old, and had a blood red stone encrusted in the silver handle. It was crafted like an old-fashioned fountain pen, and appeared to have a reservoir near the back of the handle. Although the tip was very sharp, it looked too small to be lethal. If Angelus wasn't going to use it to kill him, what was it for?

"What is that? What are you going to do?" Xander eyes were transfixed on the tool, and he flinched when Angelus flipped a hidden blade on the handle, and drove it into his own arm. The vampire hissed as his blood gushed out of the vein and flowed into the instrument, filling the reservoir.

When stray rivulets of blood fell onto Xander's chest, his stomach threatened to revolt, and he took slow, shallow breaths to keep himself from throwing up. The sight of blood made him ill, but he couldn't look away from the needle. He'd always been deathly afraid of getting shots as a child, and the old, familiar panic set in, only this time he didn't have anyone around to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay. His breaths became more rapid when Angelus removed the stylus from his arm and poised it over Xander's heart. He finally understood what would take place, and braced himself.

"This may smart a little, Harris. Try not to jerk around too much, I don't want to mess up and have to start all over again, okay?"

/Uncle Rory said it felt like little bee stings...don't be afraid...I can handle this...people get them all the time.../

When the first wave of white, hot agony flashed through his chest, Xander thought that either his uncle had lied, or this was no ordinary tattoo. With the second stroke, he stopped thinking and let forth a scream that could shatter diamonds. Drusilla and Angelus were gone, and all he could feel was each excruciating kiss of the needle as it plunged in and out of his chest.

/no more...no more...no more...Buffy's going to save me...Buffy will stop them.../

Every time the stylus touched him, it felt like acid burning tiny fissures into his heart. He screamed until his voice cracked and all he could manage were dry, whispery grunts. Through a hazy cloud of pain, he thought he could see his chest on fire, the flames licking at the needle with each new stroke.

When it was finished, he couldn't move. The fiery pain blazed through every stretch of his body, leaving only a devastated, burned out shell. He whimpered when Angelus leaned over him and licked the bloody wound. He could feel the vampire's erection jutting into his hip, a promise of new danger lying in wait. Angelus growled, and ripped off Xander's underwear.

/Was Buffy this scared when he touched her?/

"With this mark, your blood becomes mine," whispered Angelus, his voice husky and thick with desire. "Forever."

/Not yours...don't want to be yours...just want to go home... please don't please don't please/

Angelus kissed Xander, clamping his mouth over the quivering boy's lips. His ravenous tongue forced its way inside, battering Xander's mouth as it sought every drop of blood, every trace of fear. His face red with embarrassment and revulsion, Xander moaned against their sealed lips until Angelus finally pried himself loose.

Drusilla released Xander's arms, but he left them splayed out, exhausted from his futile struggles. He watched with numb horror as Drusilla bit sharply into the palm of her hand before she sat down on the bed next to Angelus. While Angelus leered at his captive, Drusilla reached down, unbuckled the leather pants, and proceeded to pump her Sire's already hard cock. With a lewd, knowing grin on her face, she monitored Xander's reaction as she moistened the entire length of Angelus's shaft with her blood.

/She's...she's preparing him for.../

"Angel was my first lover, too, Alexander." She leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his forehead, leaving a few bloody fingerprints on his cheek. "He will bring you great pain, but you will soon learn to crave his touch as much as I do."

"No!" Xander howled, his voice ragged and hoarse from overuse. He made one last-ditch attempt to wrest himself free and escape from his abusers, but it was no use. The ordeal had robbed him of all his strength. He slumped from the bed to the floor, too weak to even crawl away. The room echoed with hideous laughter, a chilling reminder of how the hyena pack sounded when they closed in for a kill. Beaten down by their laughter and frustrated with his own helplessness, Xander sobbed angrily when he felt cold hands lift him back onto the bed.

/Not like this! Not supposed to happen like this! Not with Angel...not with him...not with a fucking man!/

"You know, it wasn't going to be you," laughed Angelus. He dried Xander's tears in a parody of paternal kindness. "I was going to make Willow my new little toy. I have to admit, though, it works out much better this way. Willow never hated me like you do. Knowing how much you despise me will make your servitude much more rewarding."

Xander trembled when his hips were yanked up and his legs were thrown over broad shoulders, flopped about like one of Drusilla's precious dolls.

"No...please God, don't -"

His prayers for salvation were cut short when he felt the vampire's massive cock pound into him like a battering ram, knocking down all remaining walls of refuge. The breach forced a raw, wordless cry out of Xander's already ravaged throat. Angel's hands roamed freely over his flesh, pressing and pinching, clawing and clutching. As Xander's body was brutally ransacked, a series of harsh, painful grunts tore out of his chest in a hateful rhythm.

"No...no...no..."

The friction of their coupling sparked the fire in Xander's heart again, the pain blazing through his body with each frenzied thrust. His handsome face contorted into an ugly mask of pain, and his lips still formed screams even though there were no more sounds left. He could almost hear a sizzle where his chest burned, and he thought he saw a faint orange glow.

Drusilla's eyes widened with excitement when she saw the tattoo shine with magical energy. "The ritual worked! Oh, success! Angel, your apple has ripened!"

Angelus groaned and drove into Xander with more vigor, drawing strength from the heat. Xander felt like his cramped body would soon implode, crushed into a ball of searing agony that would burn itself up until there was nothing left.

All hope of rescue gone, Xander succumbed to despair. The battle was lost, and the victor claimed his new territory. His body surrendered, smashed to bits under the continued assault. He squeezed his eyes shut so he didn't have to see the smug look of triumph in the face of his conqueror and king.

Angelus roared, jerking violently into Xander's shattered remains as he came deep inside his prize. Xander's whole body seized as Angelus' fangs suddenly ripped into his throat, and he could taste his own blood bubbling up into his mouth. He could hear Drusilla singing, but her voice sounded so far away.

/unh...so this is dying...good...the pain will stop now...they can't hurt me anymore.../

As the vampire drank from him, he sank into the soft, black sheets and fell away from the world above. He welcomed the black emptiness that shrouded him from the ones who had caused him so much pain. He tumbled deeper and deeper into the void.

Xander was falling.

Falling.

*****