Death smelled funny. That's all that Xander could think as he let his eye lids blink open slowly. He was pretty sure he'd died; not one hundred percent but maybe close to eighty. Then again, dead people didn't open their eyes. So maybe he wasn't fully dead. Maybe he was just… half dead. Yeah, that sounded good.

Ridiculous as the thoughts were to him, he was comforted by the inner workings of his mind coming up with reasons for why he was feeling the way he was and possibly why he was where he was.

His vision proved to be dark and blurry. Clarity came slowly like water being rubbed out of his eyes. But everything stayed dark despite the sharpness.

His brows furrowed suddenly. If he was half dead, then where exactly was he? Xander had to admit, he'd imagined plenty of times what hell might be like and found it quite possible that he could be there, even after his selfish behavior.

He gasped. Memories of the previous night swarmed into his head, his and Faith's interlude, the argument with Dawn, and his guiltless rage towards Buffy. But after that, everything proved to be a blur. What had happened?

"He's still a little groggy." a voice whispered, hazing through his brain.

Xander held back the sudden urge to vomit. Everything was spinning, faster and faster. He couldn't get his bearings and found that everytime he breathed he just got dizzier and dizzier. Was it possible to feel worse after he felt like he was feeling better? He couldn't have been sure. He wasn't sure he cared, he just wanted things to be normal again. "Stop… spinning…" he murmured, closing his eyes again and taking a sharp breath.

"Now's probably the best time then. Make the incisions quick, I don't want him waking up in the middle of it. When human's scream, it makes it hard to get any sleep." another voice, deeper than the first replied.

Xander's head rolled to the side. The blurred silver of a side table wavered before him.

"Of course." He could tell a little bit more about the voice this time. It sounded… like a woman.

Next a strange sensation on his head. His stomach lurched. Not on his head. In his head. Something… sharp being dragged through the flesh of his scalp. His lips trembled and breathing quickened. A face, more like a Picasso painting, appeared over him as he was lost in the dregs of sleep once more.

"He's not down at the Bronze." Willow called to Buffy as she opened the front door, hooking her jacket on a hanger. She stopped and quickly put it back on. She wouldn't let Xander ruin himself; she wouldn't stand back and watch as his life circled the drain of misery. She had to start doing something, instead of doing… well… nothing.

Buffy appeared from the kitchen, face drained of energy. "He's not at Anya's…" she stopped short, unable to finish her sentence. " He's not at the cemetery. That's the only place he would be." she spoke her thoughts aloud, catching a held breath from her friend. She reached out a hand and rubbed Willow's shoulder. "Don't worry. He couldn't have gone far."

Her own words did not comfort her own riled nerves however. She couldn't help but replay the awful conversation that had gone over the previous night. She couldn't downplay how betrayed she'd felt as he'd said those things about Spike… let alone brought him up. She'd never felt so vulnerable. And normally, she knew she'd have had a comeback for anything aimed at her deceased lover. But she hadn't expected it from him; not from Xander. A part of her wanted to think that he'd found a hole in a hotel somewhere and was contented just to stay away for a couple of days; just to get his head together.

Something about this, however, was not right. She'd heard him leave right after she'd gone upstairs. He hadn't come back to pack anything. Nothing of his had been touched since he'd left. He would have come back. As much as she knew how Xander hated for things to be his fault, she knew he wouldn't hold a grudge this long and it wouldn't take him this long to apologize either. Something had to be wrong.

Faith, closed-lipped about what she and Xander had done the night before, had gone down to the library to see if she could locate him there. The two had barely spoken that morning, let alone said "good morning." She could tell that the brunette slayer was feeling remorse for her impetuous actions. At the same time, she knew that Faith deeply cared for Xander, enough to feel worried for his safety. She'd volunteered to look there without being told.

Dawn had gone to check the high school. The rage and bitter contempt her younger sister had felt last night had softened quickly at the news of his disappearance. Now every time she caught a look with Dawn, she could sense that she was sorry for her temperament the night before. Buffy knew that Dawn didn't have too much of a reason to be that angry unless… and God forbid her for thinking this… that she actually liked Xander in… that way. Dawn no matter how grown up she was, still had a streak of jealousy within her that flared a little too often for comfort. And she wouldn't have found Xander's behavior bad in the same way that Buffy and Willow knew it to be. She probably believed that it must have seemed like some kind of an obligation to have sex with Faith; after all that was what she seemed to do best. Dawn had never really liked Faith, even after her return. This made it more difficult.

"Buffy?" Willow spoke softly, kicking her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry." she shook her head. "Is there anyone else we could ask?"

One side of Willow's mouth perked up in thought. "Wood might know."

'Doubt that.' Buffy contemplated. "It's worth a shot." she answered instead. "Is there any kind of a location spell you could do?"

Willow took a deep breath. It was a lot to ask, seeing as how magic was not that easy for her to use these days. A locater spell required less energy but more time. On top of it, she would need supplies, and that meant going to the magic shop. She wasn't sure whether or not she was ready for that. After Anya's death, it was Kennedy whom had taken ownership of the store. Things between them had been going very well. That was, until she caught Kennedy in an affair.

She hadn't expected it. It had hurt more than she would have liked. But she shouldn't have put it past the younger slayer to be capable of it. Kennedy was headstrong and unafraid to be blunt about what she wanted. She was hardly shy. At first, that was what Willow thought had made her attractive. 'Opposites… there supposed to attract right?' she'd frequently asked Buffy afterwards. They hadn't spoken in two weeks. This was mostly because Willow had been holding vigil against the idea of forgiving Kennedy, even if she missed her.

Buffy sighed and said, "I could go if you want."

"No." Willow responded meekly, a little courage branching into her voice afterwards. "I'll go. You should go talk to Robin."

The slayer sighed. "Okay." She grabbed her jean jacket from the rack and squeaked open the door. "I'll see you in an hour?"

"Sure."

The door closed with a sharp click.

Willow waited until Buffy's car had disappeared down the street before she too headed out.

I'm very sorry that this chapter is so late. I know that excuses are not worth anything here and so I can only hope that none of my readers want to kill me. I've been hard at work on a book with a similar atmosphere to this. As result, a lot of my inspiration and ideas have been used up on the other project. I know where I'm going with this story though and will hope to have it finished eventually. Again, I'm not going to promise timely updates. Everything is kind of chaotic at the moment. I also realized I made a slight continuity error in this story because Buffy doesn't have her driver's license nor does she know how to drive. So, I'll just say during the last three months since the end of Chosen, she took a test to have a driver's permit and has been sort of abusing it by driving on her own.