*END FLASHBACK*

Xander remembered.

He wanted to run away, close the black curtain behind him and keep everything hidden in the dark forever, but it was too late.

The shock of Angel's lips pressed against his own had triggered an explosion of repressed memories, bombarding Xander with their intensity. In an instant, he was forced to relive every degrading, excruciating moment of his nightmare with Angelus and Drusilla. Trapped again by those same injurious hands, he couldn't block out his memories of the agonizing torture, and his shame at being defiled by the man he hated more than anyone.

/He...he didn't just bite me. Oh my God, Angel raped me! He raped me, mutilated me, and turned me into some kind of freak!/

Shock gave way to outrage as Xander screamed into Angel's mouth and tried to bite him, wanting to strike out and hurt him any way he could. The vampire denied him even this small act of rebellion by suddenly withdrawing from the kiss, slicing his fang through Xander's bottom lip.

Angelus grinned and licked his lips, savoring the boy's anguish as much as his blood. "Covered in blood is a good look for you, Xander. Get used to it."

The coppery smell from the blood trickling down his chin and neck repulsed Xander, and he fought the urge to vomit. It tingled where it touched his skin, and tasted wrong, not like blood anymore. It was too potent, with a kick like a double shot of whiskey. He could still feel the cool burn sliding down his throat, a trace of the fire in his veins Angelus had extinguished just moments ago.

/Not human...I'm not human anymore.../

Angel's obscene touch and this strange, mutated blood had tainted his flesh more indelibly than the tattoo. Xander felt corrupted, forever unclean and trapped in a body he no longer owned.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" Xander spat out the words, half-hoping, half-dreading that the vampire would snap his neck and send him falling back into darkness again. At least if he were dead, he wouldn't have to remember his debasement. He wouldn't have to live with the bruises and stains that would never fully fade away. And he wouldn't have to share the knowledge of what had happened to him with anyone.

Angelus rolled his eyes impatiently. "Haven't you been listening to me? I told you, you're my pomme de sang. Have Rupert look it up for you. It means that from now on, you and I are going to be really close friends." He bared his fangs, ready to strike at Xander again.

"Oh, puh-leaze."

Both men were forced to the ground as a tiny blonde comet collided with Angel's back. "You have the suckiest timing, Angel. You couldn't try to make friends with Xander BEFORE we broke up?"

Angel roared, and rolled to the side, avoiding another kick. He jumped to his feet, smiling and eager to fight. "What can I say? He and I spent some quality time together, and we bonded." He punched the Slayer in the stomach, and she flew into the lamppost, gasping for breath. He tried to hit her again, but she used the post as leverage to flip around and kick Angel square in the face.

"Bonded?" Indignation flared up in Xander, giving him a much-needed burst of energy while he tried to crawl away from the fracas. "Kill him, Buffy!"

"That's the plan." Buffy drew her stake, ready to lunge at the vampire, but he grabbed Xander and hurled him straight at her. Buffy and Xander slammed against the van, smashing a window in the process. They both collapsed onto the asphalt in a tumble of limbs and broken bits of glass.

"Dinner was delicious, but I really don't have time to stay for dessert. Don't worry, I'll see both of you again very soon." Angel waved and fled into the darkness before Buffy could untangle herself from her friend and pursue.

"Come back here! My plan isn't finished yet!" yelled Buffy. "Ooh. I hate it when he does that thing where he's gone." She groaned and pulled herself to her hands and knees, leaning over Xander to check him for injuries. "Can you move? Are you okay?"

/No, I won't ever be okay again. But I know how to pretend./

"Have I told you lately how much I hate dodge ball? Especially when I'm the ball." Xander winced and cradled his broken wrist to his chest. She tried to rub the blood from his face, but he nudged her hand away as if she might burn herself. "Don't!" He hurriedly wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"It's okay. Let me help you." She untied the black scarf holding her hair back in a ponytail, and handed it to him to use as a bandage. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and Xander felt the twinge that reminded him that no matter how many times he'd fall in love in his life, she would always be the first to take a piece of his heart. He pressed the scarf to his neck to slow the bleeding.

Not long ago, he would have cherished her tenderness, being this close to her. But now, he couldn't look at Buffy without being reminded of him. Angel. Her lover. Her first. Their first. It sickened Xander that they were both bound to Angel each in their own inextricable way.

/Did she see him kiss me? Does she know? Pathetic, useless Xander couldn't defend himself. Xander the Sissy Man. Xander the Perpetual Victim. Xander the Dirty, Used Whore./

She gingerly wiped the bits of damp grass and broken glass from his clothes. "Did he bite you? His back was turned, I couldn't see..." Buffy stopped cold when she caught sight of his exposed chest, her eyes huge with shock. "Oh my God."

The tattoo. He'd almost forgotten. Xander covered himself with his ripped shirt, but it no longer mattered. She'd obviously seen it.

"Why didn't you tell me he did this to you?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with sadness. Her eyes shined in the moonlight, and Xander wondered if the tears were really for him, or because she was faced with more proof that the kinder, gentler vampire she had loved was really gone.

He couldn't answer her. Talking about what happened last night was the last thing he ever wanted to do, especially with Buffy. Groaning from the effort, he pulled himself off the ground, putting his good hand on the side of the van to keep himself steady. The blood loss made him nauseated and woozy, and his wrist was screaming for attention.

"I think you're going to have to take me to the emergency room again. Darn, I was really looking forward to playing Twister for a change, too."

"Is dodge ball the theme for tonight?" Buffy sounded both accusatory and hurt as she pressed Xander about his omission. He knew nothing upset her more than Angel's stalk-o-grams, which were increasingly directed towards her friends. "What's going on between you two, Xander? Why does he keep coming after you? Why didn't you let us know about the scar?"

Xander snapped. "What do you want from me? A play-by-play of how your honey tortured me? No. Angel hurt me in ways you don't ever need to know about!" He immediately regretted his words, which came dangerously close to full disclosure. He held up his hand, beseeching her to keep her distance when she tried to touch his arm.

"I thought you said you couldn't remember..."

"Buffy, please, can we pause the melodrama?" he asked tiredly. "I'm sorry. I just got bit by a vampire, which tends to make me a little irritable. And using the word "tends" as if this was becoming a commonplace occurrence makes me even more cranky."

"Is he still here? The rest of you, stay back!" Giles stepped outside the school, a crossbow in his arms. He scanned the area cautiously, keeping an eye out for vampires. "Buffy, Xander, are you safe?"

"We're fine." He walked towards where Giles was standing, and Buffy moved to catch up to him as he bent down to pick up his wooden cross.

/Why do I bother? Dead Boy proved tonight that nothing could protect me from him. He can hurt me any time he wants now that he engraved his goddamned monogram on my chest./

"Don't do this, Xand. Don't shut me out." She jerked her thumb at Giles. "Does he know about the big A? Is that what Giles talked with you about today?"

"Er...well," Giles stammered. He looked at Xander as if asking permission to speak while they walked to the school entrance together.

Mascara tinted tears streamed down her cheeks when she saw the guilty looks on both of their faces. "Giles, what aren't you telling me? Damn it, what did Angel do to him?"

"Stop it! I...I asked him not to say anything," admitted Xander, tugging at his shirt self-consciously, uncomfortable in the spotlight as Willow, Oz and Cordelia met them in the lobby.

Cordelia rushed over to Xander and threw herself around him. "You...you! When are you going to stop being a monster magnet, huh?"

He tensed, his first instinct to resist and not let anyone get close to him. Don't touch him. Don't hurt him.

/Damn you! Its just Cordelia! Don't let him ruin everything for you!/

He pushed his anxiety down, and hugged her back tightly, wanting to hide himself in her arms. He pressed his face into her soft hair where he could get lost in her scent. Xander sobbed, locking the sound deep in his throat so she wouldn't hear, and willed himself not to cry. He won't ever cry in front of her.

/Help me forget, Cordy...please, just hold me for the rest of my life so I never have to think about him touching me./

"I know I told you that danger was sexy, but you don't have to prove it to me every night, okay?" He laughed, loving the way she could always tease him. He felt the worry in her hands as she stroked his back, touching him as if she needed to make sure he was really safe. "I've heard quiet nights sitting in front of the TV can be just as sexy, so maybe we should skip the danger and try that tomorrow. I'll even let you pick the video this time."

"It's a date. No horror movies, I promise." Xander smoothed her hair and reluctantly pulled himself from her embrace as he felt everyone's eyes probing him. He wasn't looking forward to their questions.

Cordelia wrinkled her nose at Buffy. "What's up with the Alice Cooper eye make-up? Two words for you: waterproof mascara. Considering all the drama in your life, that would be a wise investment." Buffy just blinked at her, accustomed to Cordelia's lack of tact.

"Angel...is he, um, gone as in left-the-premises-gone, or...or gone as in crumbled away-in-a-cloud-of-dust-gone?" asked Willow when she noticed Buffy's tears.

"He's not dead, Will. He ran off before I could...you know." She wiped the dark stains from her cheeks, glancing at Xander. Killing Angelus was a sticky subject for the Scooby Gang. He may be a deadly enemy now, but no one could ignore how much Buffy still loved him. She couldn't bring herself to stake him when the opportunity arose, and he'd murdered Jenny Calendar soon after. Buffy hadn't been able to stop him from terrorizing her friends ever since, and they could see how it weighed on her conscience.

"Yeah, it was kind of a bit and run," shrugged Xander, favoring his injured wrist. "One minor casualty, and a smashed window. Oz, I hope you have good insurance, 'cause Dead Boy didn't even leave a note."

Oz had always been inscrutable. You never quite knew what he was thinking or what he was going to say. But tonight Xander had no problem reading his thoughts.

Oz was there when Angel said Xander wasn't human anymore. Oz sensed it himself, and even now his nose was taking in Xander's scent, twitching ever so slightly. Usually languid and relaxed, the sometimes-werewolf was slowly fidgeting back and forth on the pads of his feet, clutching Willow's hand like she was a tether holding him back. Xander could feel how strongly Oz was drawn to him, or to be more precise, to his recently shed blood.

When Oz caught Xander in his sights, his eyes growled a simple instruction:

Tell them.

*****
Part 6:

/Oz wants me to tell them I've changed. Not human. Buddy, you're not looking too human at the moment, either.../

Xander could sense the wolf lurking beneath Oz's skin, the part of him that operated purely on an animal level, and right now, the wolf below the surface stared at him like it was stalking a wounded deer. Slowed breaths, hackles raised, eyes dark and shining. Oz's muscles coiled, ready for a chase.

Hunt. Kill. Eat. Instincts the werewolf could usually bury while wearing his human guise had been awakened. Xander saw how the intense craving disturbed Oz, and the silent apology that hung from his lips as he struggled to control his inner beast.

/Food. Bottom of the food chain. Prey. That's what Angel made me. I'm doing this to Oz, I'm making him wolfy!/

Xander's survival instinct kicked in. He backed away from Oz, cradling his injured wrist close to his chest as he pressed the scarf tightly against his neck with his other hand, desperately hoping it would dampen the scent of blood.

/Don't run. Don't excite him./

Clutching Willow's hand like a lifeline, Oz's eyes never left Xander as he cautiously increased the distance between them. His jaw twitched, wrinkling the corners of his mouth, and Oz fought the bloodlust like a drunk trying to avoid throwing up in a room full of people. So far, no one else seemed to notice his agitated state as they concerned themselves with Xander's recent ordeal.

"You're hurt! What happened? Is it broken?" asked Cordelia, referring to Xander's wrist. "Did he break you?"

"You could say that," Xander mumbled as he nudged past her. First Angel, now Oz? Xander hated feeling so vulnerable, unnerved by everyone's sudden interest in ripping his throat out. He backed up as far as he could, until he bumped up against the lockers lining the corridor. "Hey, Oz...maybe you should, uh, go check on your van?" he gulped.

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices as rounds of questions fired off in rapid succession. The hail of inquiries only heightened Xander's anxiety, making him feel like a target in a shooting gallery.

"Xander, what is with you being so avoidy today?" demanded Buffy. "Do you know something about Angel that I don't?"

"Things are out in the open. P-perhaps we should discuss your, er, situation now, yes?" asked Giles.

"Hey, wasn't your bite mark on the other side of your neck this afternoon? How did it move?" Willow cringed and bumped Oz's shoulder with her own when he squeezed her hand hard enough to hurt. "Ow, fingers! Jeez, what's got you so wound up, anyway?"

"Don't feel so hot." Oz pulled away from Willow and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his eyes locked on the wound on Xander's neck. He shook his head and tore his gaze away, his breath coming in quick little huffs as he struggled to keep his attention averted. "Need to get some fresh air."

"Sweetie, is everything okay?" asked Willow. Oz nodded, an embarrassed frown on his face, like he'd been caught with his paw in the cookie jar.

"Man, I'm sorry," Xander apologized. "I mean, about the broken glass and, uh, everything." Xander regretted more than just smashing the window. Oz almost lost control of his beast, and it was his fault. The blood drying on his neck itched, taunting him with its potency, the scent still strong even to Xander's human senses.

"S'okay. I think I can deal," Oz replied through his clenched teeth, and he seemed both reluctant and eager to get away from the scent.

/If my blood gives Oz a severe case of the munchies, what happens when the really scary Sunnydale residents get a whiff?/

Buffy watched while Oz kept a wide berth between himself and Xander as he left the building, puzzled by their strange tension. "There is major weirdness in the air, Xander. Now is not the time to practice being the strong, silent type. So share. Why is Oz wigging out when you're nearby, what have you and Giles been hiding...and why the hell did Angel call you a potato?"

"Potato?" Cordelia asked, deeply confused as she swung her gaze between Buffy and Xander. "Why are we standing around talking about food, when we should be taking him to the emergency room?"

"Angel called him a pomme de sang. That's French for potato...right?" She looked at Willow for validation. "Not right?" When she shook her head, Buffy muttered under her breath. "I am so going to flunk that test tomorrow."

"Pomme de terre is potato," explained Willow. "Pomme de sang is...uh, apple of ...blood? Blood-apple?" Her eyebrows crinkled when she saw everyone's appalled expressions upon hearing the definition. "Oh, boy. Something tells me that's not good thing. Maybe we should forget about the disturbing blood reference and stick with Buffy's translation."

"You...you heard what he said?" Echoes of Angelus and Drusilla's mocking voices reverberated in Xander's mind, drawing him back to last night's traumatic events. He couldn't shake the horrible memories, the atrocities he'd endured when the vampires had ravaged him.

/"You're the apple, Alexander. Will you taste as sweet, I wonder?"/

"Good lord." Giles' face whitened and he straightened to a rigid posture, letting the crossbow dangle at his side. He had the concerned look on his face he always had right before he had to announce a distressing prophecy or revelation to the gang. "Xander, is it true? Did Angelus call you a pomme de sang?"

/"Have Rupert look it up for you. It means that from now on, you and I are going to be really close friends."/

Embarrassed and exposed, Xander tried to fade into the row of lockers behind him. He felt like a sideshow attraction, a freak on display for everyone to scrutinize and judge.

/When they find out what I am, they won't want me around anymore. They'll think I'm hideous. Dirty, foul, and disgusting. Stupid Xander. He let himself get caught. He let Angel fuck him./

He'd never felt so ugly. He wanted to run away, cleanse himself of the disgusting blood caking on his flesh and clothing, rid himself of the hateful reminder of Angel's assault. But all eyes bored into Xander, digging into him with little hooks that ensnared him and kept him from escaping.

Seeing Xander's discomfort, Cordelia tried to reach out to him, but he shrank away from her. "Please, don't!" begged Xander. "You don't want to get near me."

"What happened to you? What are you so afraid of? If something is wrong, you need to let us help you," she said.

"Help me?" Xander muttered softly, speaking more to himself than to anyone else in the room. "I screamed, and screamed, and screamed for help while they hurt me, but no one came. They just laughed at me, and did what they wanted. Angel and Drusilla...I couldn't stop them."

He hugged himself, tottering back and forth on his feet, looking every bit like a frightened, cornered animal, and refused to let Cordelia near him. "They changed me. I'm not me anymore. Not human."

Cordelia froze. "What do you mean, you're not human?"

Xander laughed, a sharp, humorless laugh that fell from his lips and shattered on the ground. "I'm food for them, see? And just like potato chips, they can't stop after just one bite. I'm so yummy, even Oz wants a taste. I'm a Scooby Snack. A Hellmouth happy hour appetizer. An all-you-can-eat buffet..."

"That's enough," interrupted Giles gently as he stood before Xander, trying to soothe him with his voice. "Come. Let's go to the nurse's station and get something to take care of your arm. Willow, Cordelia, I think it would be best if you made sure Oz goes home for the evening. Keep a close eye on him."

The girls protested, but Giles was adamant. "Damn it, if you want to help, do as I say. Fetch the tranquilizer gun from the armory as a precaution." Willow obeyed, and hurried to the library to carry out his instructions.

"You know something. Giles, I'm not budging until you tell us what the hell is going on!" demanded Cordelia. "What did Angel do to him? I thought he could only make vampires! Is he...?"

"I assure you, he's not a vampire." Giles shepherded Xander towards the infirmary, and the girls followed.

"Angel made him a pomme de whatsit? I've never heard of that. What is it?" Buffy asked. She broke the lock on the medicine cabinet, and pulled out some gauze and a splint. Xander sat on the paper-lined bench while Giles administered first aid to his injured wrist.

"Go ahead, doc. Tell them the bad news," Xander said quietly, not looking at anyone. As Giles taped his wrist, Xander felt an unnatural, prickly sensation, and he realized he could feel the bones knitting together, healing on their own.

"Every Watcher has heard the legend of the pomme de sang. I feel like a rank amateur for not making the connection sooner." Giles unwrapped a sterile swab to use to clean the gash on Xander's neck. Xander tried to push him away, scared his blood would infect Giles somehow, but he persisted and seemed to understand the reason for Xander's resistance.

"It's all right," Giles said as he dabbed at the dried blood around the wound. "It won't hurt me."

As Cordelia handed Giles a bandage, she gasped. "Willow was right! The bite from last night was on the other side, but now it's completely healed! How did that happen?"

"Rapid regeneration is the trademark of a pomme de sang. Xander survived the attack last night because his body was able to heal itself beyond normal human capability. I'll wager that within a few hours, his current injuries will also be fully healed. That's what Xander and I discussed this afternoon. I suspected that his swift recovery wasn't natural. Now we know why."

"I don't get it." Buffy paced back in forth in the small room. "Angel wants to destroy us. Why would he give Xander an ability that prevents him from getting killed?"

Giles finished bandaging Xander's neck and sat down on a stool in the corner of the room. "Angelus' motive wasn't altruistic, of that I'm certain. Pommes de sang are sla...ahem, servants...who are magically granted extraordinary regenerative powers to be able to survive the strain of extensive blood loss and repeated feedings. Xander, do you recall a ritual of some sort?"

"Yes." Xander shuddered and shut his eyes, unable to forget the excruciating pain he'd felt when Angelus had claimed him. First with the tattoo...and then with the rape. "I wish I was still Amnesia Guy. But when I saw him...when he touched me again, it all came rushing back."

/The gold stylus...my chest on fire...no more...no more...no, please God, don't!/

His eyes flew open again, and Xander struggled to keep his composure. "I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"That's fine. No doubt this experience has been very trying for you," said Giles. "We can discuss the details later, when you're more comfortable and have had time to sort things out. Suffice it to say that when Angelus performed the ritual, he bound your essence to his own and transformed you into his pomme de sang, or blood-apple. Your recuperative powers are drawn from his vampiric strength, rendering you as immortal as he is. Although we don't know for certain who developed the black magic used for creating blood-apples, their origin dates back several hundred years.

Throughout history, there are accounts of powerful vampires who remained rulers or wealthy nobles even after their deaths. Vlad Tepes and Lady Elisabeth Bathory are notable examples. They were just two of many upper class vampires who preferred to retain their land, wealth and power rather than spend their nights as nomadic hunters.

These privileged vampires soon learned that unexplained disappearances in their tightly knit communities raised too much suspicion, and that they couldn't risk preying on the local populace without exposing their secret. To insure a discreet, convenient, and never-ending supply of blood, they kept pommes de sang.

By feeding primarily from their servants, wealthy vampires could mask their true nature and escape persecution. Vampires are said to prefer the blood of pommes de sang to that of normal human beings, and their blood became a rare and highly sought after delicacy."

"When they changed me, they didn't just make me heal quickly, they suped up my blood," admitted Xander. "It's more powerful, higher octane or something, which I guess makes vamps dig it so much. Even Oz could smell it; he's the one who made me realize something was really wrong.

Angel told me my blood belonged to him, and when he got near me, I had an intense reaction. Burning and itching. I felt compelled to obey him, and when I tried to resist, the pain got even worse. It was like fire in my veins, like my heart was pumping gasoline and he lit a match. Red light shot out of my chest, and I knew if I didn't let him bite me, I'd go nuclear. And it's all coming from this damn thing!" With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt and angrily revealed the tattoo.

Cordelia let out a short, horrified cry, covering her mouth with shaking hands as she stared at the crude A seared above Xander's heart.

Xander felt sickened as his heart thudded in his chest, pumping the tainted blood through his body. But it wasn't Xander's body anymore, not really. He'd become a vessel for Angelus, complete with a brand to mark him as personal property.

/He can bite me, torture me, bleed me dry, and I'll never die. That's why he did this, so he can draw out the humiliation, use me over and over. His new chew toy./

Cordelia turned to Buffy, her face contorted with rage. "Look at what your stalker boyfriend did to him! Look at him!" Xander cringed at her words.

/Freak. She thinks that I'm a disgusting freak. She'll never want to touch me again./

Giles sensed a confrontation brewing, and rose from his stool. "Cordelia, please calm down. "

She ignored him, focusing her anger on Buffy. "You promised me that you'd kill him. So are you going to wait until after that twisted psycho goes through the whole alphabet? Who's next on the menu? Me? Willow?"

"Can we stop the histrionics and discuss this rationally? There's something all of you need to understand," asked Giles, but his plea fell on deaf ears.

"Whoa." Buffy put her hand up, trying to ward her off Cordelia's venomous assault. "Put the breaks on before you say something we'll both really regret. I'm gonna give you a pass this time because it's been a traumatic day for all of us, and our emotions are stretched to the limit. But don't go there again, understand?"

"When are you finally going to get a clue, Buffy? Angel is gone! He's Angelus now, and you're never going to get your lover back. So kill him already and let everyone get on with our lives, while we still have them." She crossed her arms and leveled her eyes at Buffy in her most imperious, Queen Cordelia way. "Unlike you, I prefer my boyfriends still breathing."

Buffy slapped her, knocking Cordelia back a few feet. She stood quaking in the middle of the room, her fists clenched, her eyes bright with tears again. "I'm doing the best I can. I...I know I have to kill him. Don't you think I know that? Don't you realize how painful it is for me to see him go after all my friends?"

Cordelia rubbed her reddened cheek, unmoved and unconvinced. "Nothing you feel could possibly be as painful as what he did to Ms. Calendar and Xander. And if it will keep me from being the next target, you can officially cross me off of your growing-shorter-by-the-day list of friends."

"Cordy, stop it!" pleaded Xander as he placed himself between the feuding girls, holding his hands out like a referee. "Buffy is..."

"Oh, it's always all about Buffy, Buffy, Buffy with you," complained Cordelia as she wiped at the tears running down her cheek with the cuff of her sweater. "Go ahead, take her side. You're so busy idolizing your precious superhero that you forget that I'm the one who gives a damn about you, not her!"

"What? Of course I give a damn! Xander's one of my best friends! I love him, and I'd do anything for him!"

"Love? You mean you love having him wrapped around your finger," snapped Cordelia with a disgusted snort, ignoring Xander's attempts to shush her. "You know how much Xander worships you, and you take advantage of that. You keep him tucked an arm's length away like a spare boyfriend marked "use only in case of emergency." God, you're so selfish!"

Red-faced with embarrassment, Xander tried again to break up the argument. "You know what? This is a conversation I really don't need to hear right now. Or ever. Please, can you two just drop it?"

"Selfish? You want to talk selfish, you jealous, self-centered little bitch?" shouted Buffy. "Your boyfriend could have been killed last night, and all you can worry about is whether he likes me more than he likes you?"

"This isn't about jealousy. This is about how you're still choosing Angel over Xander and all of your friends. I've seen you slay vampires and demons way tougher than Angel without breaking a sweat. If you really wanted him dead, he'd already be dust in the wind. Maybe you can't admit that to yourself, but from where I'm standing, it's obvious. So don't talk to me about how much you love Xander and how you'd do anything for him. If you really, really cared, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You'd be off doing your little Slayer thing, and you wouldn't stop until Angel paid for what he did to him."

Silent most of the fight, Giles finally spoke up. "Killing Angelus isn't that simple, I'm afraid."

"Is that...is that what you think too?" Buffy searched Xander for his reaction, and he blinked and couldn't look her in the eyes. "Do you think I'm holding back on purpose?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe. Subconsciously. But if you'd seen the Angel I've seen, if you'd seen how cruel and evil he is, you wouldn't hesitate. He's a monster. He's going to keep torturing me, and with this damn tattoo controlling me, I can't do anything about it." Ashamed of his own weakness, Xander's voice trembled as he pleaded with her to help him. "I need you to stop him, Buffy. Please, don't let him touch me again."

/Please, Buffy, please don't let me down when I need you the most!/

Buffy pulled a reluctant Xander into a hug, and sobbed quietly against his stiff shoulder while a tearful, jealous Cordelia looked on. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you last night. I'm sorry I didn't protect you. I didn't know. I didn't know anything was wrong until I found you. I swear to God, he won't ever hurt you again."

"You can't kill him," interjected Giles. "You must stay away from Angelus!"

"No, I can do it, and I will!" She rubbed her eyes and stepped away from Xander, her face set with determination. "Tonight. No hesitating. Break out the fancy weapons, Giles. Angel will never get near any of my friends again."

"Listen to me! I haven't been able to get a word in edgewise with all this childish bickering. What I've been trying to explain is now that Xander has become his pomme de sang, you can't kill Angelus."

"What? Why not?" asked Cordelia. "If we don't, he's going to keep terrorizing Xander and the rest of us! When is this all finally going to stop?"

"I don't know." Giles sighed, and rubbed his temple as he hung his head sadly. "I believe I understand Angelus' ulterior motive for Xander's transformation. You see, pommes de sang are permanently bonded to their masters, their life forces inextricably linked."

He paused, taking in their confused looks, his face grim as he went on to explain.

"It means if Buffy kills Angelus...Xander will die, too."

*****
Part 7:

"It means if Buffy kills Angelus...Xander will die, too," explained Giles. Equal parts of regret and frustration registered in his eyes, and Giles shifted uncomfortably as Xander gaped at him, horrified by his announcement.

"No," Xander whispered as he shook his head, unwilling to accept the news. Angel's smug, smiling face hounded his thoughts, his mocking laughter fueling Xander's hatred for the vampire who had wrested complete control over his life...and death.

"Oh, God. Oh, God...this is can't be happening!" Cordelia wept quietly in the corner, her mouth shielded behind unsteady hands. "He's going to kill everyone now!"

"I'm sorry, Xander." Giles' sour tone and nervous frown reflected his disgust for the deadly quandary Angelus had created. He gathered the excess bandages and antiseptic swabs, and dumped them in a drawer, shoving it closed harder than was necessary. "I believe he intends to use you as his human shield, to insure Buffy won't be able to destroy him," he sighed.

"No!" Xander shouted as he grabbed Giles by the lapels of his jacket and shook him. "It isn't fair! He deserves to die for what he did to me! He can't get away with this!" Xander hissed when he jarred his injured wrist, and pushed himself away from Giles, ashamed that he had vented his hatred for Angel upon his friend.

Unable to contain his fury, Xander lashed out and kicked the small metal garbage can next to the door before storming out of the infirmary. He ignored his friends when they called out his name.

/Don't cry don't cry don't let them see you cry/

Xander rushed into the boy's lavatory down the hall, and vomited into the sink. He clutched the cold porcelain rim to keep himself from falling down as his stomach violently relieved itself of all its contents. After the painful spasms subsided, Xander decided he was grateful he hadn't eaten much that day.

Wiping his lips with a trembling hand...

/blood I can still taste the blood I can still taste HIM/

...Xander turned on the faucet to rinse the bowl clean. He looked at himself in the mirror, and hated what he saw: unnaturally pale skin, dark-circled eyes, red-smeared lips and chin, and clothes stained with blood. He could feel the angry pinpricks seething under the bandage on his neck, and his cheeks were damp with unwanted tears that had crept out while he'd been busy throwing up.

/"Covered in blood is a good look for you, Xander. Get used to it."/

With a frustrated cry, Xander pulled his fist back to smash the mirror, to destroy the image confronting him, but just as suddenly stopped himself. Breaking the glass would only spill more of his blood, and he knew how dangerous it had become. His blood made him a target, enticing prey for the types of creatures that roamed the Hellmouth.

The feeding, the helplessness he'd felt as his life was stolen from him, it could happen again. Scratch that, it would happen again. Angelus would come to claim his property, and there was nothing Xander could do to prevent that. He was bound to the vampire for the rest of his unnatural life.

/"You and I are going to be really close friends."/

Xander screamed as he tore the bloodied shirt off his body and crammed it into the garbage, then shoved the can across the room until it slammed into the stalls and tipped over. He grabbed handfuls of brown paper towels from the dispenser and hurriedly sopped them to scrub away the last remnants of dried blood. He sobbed as he rubbed himself raw, drenching himself and the floor as he struggled to get clean. Irritated by the rough paper, his skin took on the pinkish-red tinge of uncooked hamburger.

But the scarlet letter stayed right where it was, a permanent reminder that he'd never feel normal again.

Wet and shivering from the cold, Xander dipped his hand under the faucet and scooped up more water to rinse the bitter taste and tears away.

The door slowly creaked open. "Knock, knock. Uh, can we come in?"

Xander thought it was amusing that Buffy, used to entering creepy graveyards and monster lairs without a hint of trepidation, seemed nervous about entering the boy's bathroom. Not that amusing, but after all the mortifying mindfucks he'd endured that night, Xander needed a little funny wherever he could find it.

"Like I could stop you," replied Xander, not caring how defeated he sounded. He shuffled over to the window and sat down on the long, wide ledge. He couldn't see anything outside but blackness, but that didn't mean anything. Somewhere out there, Angelus was waiting for him.

Buffy and Cordelia gave the room a curious once over, like they had wandered into a filthy, urinal-filled alien wasteland. Paper towels littered the floor.

Xander shivered on the ledge and wrapped his arms around himself. He didn't want to look at them, didn't want to see the disgust in their eyes...especially Cordy's. Buffy whispered to Cordelia to fetch something for Xander to wear. She stared at him for a moment, her face blank, then left the bathroom without a word of contradiction.

Buffy sat down on the ledge and silently offered him a Tic Tac. Xander chuckled sadly, wiped his hand on his pants and helped himself to a breath mint. "Thanks."

"This is awful." Buffy grimaced when she noticed an unrecognizable substance smeared on the wall behind her, and scooted closer to Xander on the ledge. "Not the bathroom, although - eww, talk about smells I never knew existed! The situation with Angel? You're right, it's not fair." She tried to get him to look at her.

Xander stared out the window, straining to see past his reflection in the glass, as he fiddled with the damp bandages on his wrist. The knitting bones itched, just like the A on his chest had itched, a constant reminder of what he'd become.

/A is for apple. Dead Boy's apple. Blood so red and delicious, everybody wants a taste!/

"It's scary, finding out that you're...um, not like other people," Buffy said softly. "Are you going to be okay?"

Embarrassed, he concentrated on the darkness outside. "I am hundreds of miles away from okay. I think I'm gonna need a map, a compass, and an Indian guide to find my way back to okay."

"I know how it feels, Xander, getting burned by Angel. He's very good at hurting people. But you have to get past it."

Xander let out a laugh that melted into a sob, as he experienced a flash of phantom pain in his chest; the searing touch of the needle. Yes, Xander knew all too well about Angelus' talent for cruelty. He fought the wave of tears that threatened to roll forth, and when he finally spoke, he had to force out the words, like it hurt to pronounce every syllable.

"I gotta hand it to him, Buff, he's a clever son of a bitch. Angel knew exactly how to get to me. I've never felt so freaking helpless in my whole life. I don't know how to deal with all of this. I'm not like you, I'm not strong..."

"Yes, you are," argued Buffy, shifting to confront him. "You're a rock." Xander shook his head in denial, but Buffy persisted. She cupped his chin, and turned him to face her.

"Listen to me. You are probably the most courageous person I've ever known. Last year, everyone, including me, believed the Master would kill me just because a crusty old book of prophecies said so. But you didn't listen. You marched right into his lair, and you brought me back to life. You could have been killed yourself, but you didn't panic, you didn't falter, and you never gave up hope."

She gently placed her hand over Xander's heart, over the tattoo Angel had placed there. He shuddered, and self-consciously tried to push her hand away, but she held it there, as if she could somehow draw out the pain simply by touching him.

"Don't you see? You're just as strong as I am right here, where it counts. If anyone can get through this, it's you, Xander. You're the one who taught me to believe that no situation is ever hopeless."

Xander wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed it in silent thanks. He was astounded to see the admiration shining in Buffy's eyes, the corners of her mouth quivering ever so slightly as she tried to remain composed. Xander allowed her to embrace him, and thought it strange that Buffy felt much larger than himself as she soothed him.

A few moments passed before he could finally swallow the lump in his throat. "Really?" Xander asked, touched by Buffy's heartfelt speech. "You believe all that stuff you said?"

"Yeah, you big dork," Buffy giggled, smoothing his hair as she hugged him. She paused, and arched her eyebrow. "You're not going to make me say it again are you?"

"Into a tape recorder would be nice. That way I can play the tape over and over until I convince myself." Xander was surprised to discover he actually felt a little better. Buffy had thrown him a life preserver, something he could hold onto while he faced the disaster his life had suddenly become. "Thanks, Buff."

Cordelia entered the lavatory, carrying a maroon Sunnydale High School sweatshirt. Blushing, Xander quickly pulled away from Buffy, concerned about his girlfriend's reaction to the sight of him half-clothed and in the arms of another woman.

But Cordelia didn't say anything about the embrace as she handed him the sweatshirt. "I-I couldn't remember your combination, but you left this in my locker. It should be warm enough."

"Thanks." He stood up, and noticed that she averted her eyes and backed away from him as he dressed. Normally, when Xander exposed a bit of skin, Cordelia would flash that sexy, wicked smile that made him so crazy about her. He remembered the day they'd spent at the beach. After stripping down to their swimsuits, they'd wolf-whistled each other and giggled like maniacs while they wrestled under the boardwalk.

Now, nothing. No appreciative look, no teasing remark. Without waiting for Xander and Buffy, Cordelia turned to leave.

"Um, Cordy?"

Could he sound any more tentative? It had taken a long time for Xander to feel secure about his relationship with Cordelia, and in one day, he had managed to slide right back to square one.

"Ugh. I'm outta here. This place is beyond gross, and Giles is waiting for us in the library," Cordelia responded curtly. Carefully keeping her designer pumps away from the puddles on the floor, she walked out the door without glancing back.

/Great. Just great! She can't even stand being in the same room with me anymore./

Buffy gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze, and they walked down the hallway to the school library in silence.

When they entered the library, Xander saw Giles sitting at the table, reading a huge, ominous-looking tome. Giles looked up, a somber frown on his face, and slowly closed the book.

Xander rubbed the back of his head and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry about the freak out session, G-Man."

"That's quite alright. H-how is your wrist? Do you think it needs further attention?"

"Nah. I feel better already. Got the pep talk from the Buffster and everything. So, what's the plan? Research, research, research?"

Cordelia snorted. "What else is new? Okay, dibs on the non-dead language books with the pictures." She walked over to the table, and picked up a book from the large stack Giles had compiled. Before she could sit down and open it, he pulled it out of her hands.

"No, I-I believe we should skip the research tonight. It has been a very trying evening, and I believe it would be best for Xander to get some rest, and allow his wounds to fully heal. I'll drive him home. Buffy, go with Cordelia, make sure she arrives home safely, then meet me back at my flat to discuss tonight's patrol."

/It's only 8 o'clock. When has Giles ever turned down an opportunity to throw an all night, hard-core research party? He loves that kind of thing! Hitting the books, that's what Watchers do. So why does he want to put it off until later?/

"Ooh, goodie. Cruising with Buffy, won't that be tons of fun." Cordelia crossed her arms and glared at her. "I just had my car detailed, so don't even think about getting any vamp dust or demon pus on the leather interior, understand?"

"What about cheerleader blood? Think you can get that out of your floor mats?" Buffy snapped. The library erupted into a hailstorm of high-pitched shrieks, as the two girls pelted each other with insults.

Xander cringed, and wondered if he could click his ruby red Converse Chucks together and wish himself home.

"That's enough!" Giles boomed, slamming the book down so hard a cloud of dust rose from the table, and everyone jumped. "Stop your bloody squabbling and concentrate on the crisis at hand!"

Giles ripped off his glasses, and he spoke with a ferocity Xander rarely associated with the mild-mannered librarian. "We are at war, and Angelus is more dangerous than any enemy we have ever faced. All of us must remain on constant alert. He knows all our weaknesses, and will use that knowledge to annihilate us, if we let him. The last thing we need right now is dissension in the ranks. We need to protect each other. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Cordelia saluted him, incredulous after the Watcher's angry outburst. "Way to go Jack Nicholson intense there, mister. We've talked about switching to decaf, right?"

Giles rolled his eyes and put his glasses back on. "My God, why do I bother?"

"Giles, you're totally right," admitted Buffy. "We're being incredibly stupid. Cordelia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slapped you. What happened to Xander has us both wigged out, but we shouldn't take it out on each other."

"Well...I'm sorry, too. Mostly. I'm not taking back anything I said, but I can handle a truce."

"Deal," muttered Buffy. As apologies go, that was the best she could expect to get from Cordelia. "I'm going to call Willow and make sure everything is hunky dory with Oz, and then we'll go, okay?"

Cordelia nodded, and gathered her coat and purse from the table. Before Xander could approach her, Giles put his hand on his shoulder.

"We have a lot of things to discuss," he said quietly. "Come, we can speak in the car."

/Uh, oh./

Something about the older man's serious expression and the hint of urgency in his voice alarmed Xander. He forgot all about wanting to clear things up with Cordelia, and paused to consider what Giles wanted to talk about.

/He must have read stuff about pommes de sang while I was spazzing out in the bathroom. He knows something, but he doesn't want the girls to hear...oh, shit./

The bile rose in his throat again, and Xander swallowed hard. "Oh? Read anything interesting?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He had that same sick, guilty feeling he'd had as a 12-year-old, when he thought the store clerk might have seen him shoplift a few comic books, and he was terrified that he was going to be discovered.

/Does he know? If he doesn't know now, he will soon. God, I'm so stupid! Would anyone notice if I set the library on fire? It's not like anyone besides the Scooby Gang comes in here, anyway. Get rid of the books, maybe I can still fix this, make sure they don't ever find out what Angel did.../

In lieu of an answer, Giles handed Xander the book he'd been reading earlier. Xander paled, recognizing the volume as one of the black magic references, one of the "evil" books that gave him the creeps. Hand-bound in fleshy black leather. Rotting, yellowed pages that smelled like formaldehyde. Insane, rambling calligraphy with a disturbing hint of crimson. The Watcher usually kept this particular book of horrors locked in a cabinet, away from tender young eyes, because it was filled with graphic and often obscene descriptions of ancient tortures, rituals, and sacrifices.

Giles knew.

*****