Title: Up Over Everything (2c/?)

Author: Brooke

Email: yabbadabbadome13@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I wished I owned the two Xanders' from "The Replacement" though. Buffy and friends are owned by Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, The UPN and whoever else has rights to the show.

Summary: Part 2 in my "Romeverse". Can the Buffy, Xander and Willow put personal issues aside to fight and survive against a growing evil – one that can strike too close to home?

Distribution: I don't know why anybody would want this, but if somebody does…sure.

Feedback: Definitely!! Tell me if it sucked or if you liked it. Whatever. Just write back!

Authors Note: Takes place in an AU season 1 where Buffy and Xander are best friends and Willow is the new girl as Sunnydale High. It is the beginning of their sophomore year and, as 15 and 16 year olds, hormones and feelings are taking center stage.

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Xander's grogginess wore off quickly when he rolled over and found his bed empty. He had woken up periodically to check on Buffy and took the faintest of comfort in the fact that she was breathing. The feat wouldn't have seemed so extraordinary had he not known that she was getting progressively worse throughout the night.

The majority of the times that he had opened his eyes from the lightest sleep in recorded history it was because of Buffy's shaking and mumbling in her sleep. He had shaken her awake at least three times, but each one he doubted if her open eyes were a signal of actual consciousness. Xander had checked her shoulder bandage twice and had found that it needed changing the first time – the gauze padding and, subsequently, the shirt were soaked through with whatever the demon goo was that had continued to leak out of her shoulder.  He had tried to hold her to fight the shivering that was raking her body, but it seemed that he actually had drifted off to a deeper sleep than he had anticipated and rolled to the other side of the bed.

Just his luck that the minute he was actually unconscious Buffy would up and Houdini on him. He had fought his better judgment all night and not ran calling into the night for Angel, of all people. Xander just didn't know what else to do…but no – he didn't even do that. Buffy mumbled that she was fine through her shaking. Told him in broken sentences that she was still just sleepy and then trailed off into something about vampires attacking Eskimos in Saint Patrick's Cathedral, but he hadn't really gotten that last part. Before he could question her on it, just to fulfill his desire to try to keep her coherent for a moment longer, she had zoned out again in a pool of freezing sweat and tremors. So he had held her – both determined and carefully gentle in his hold…and now she was gone.

Xander pushed himself out of the bed and stumbled around his brightly lit room. The curtain and window that he was sure that he had shut the night before to keep Angel out was wide open, so he assumed that even through her delirium Buffy had managed to make her escape through his window. Worry flared up in him when he thought about how her decent was off his second floor roof…and again when he considered how heavy a sleeper he was to miss the whole exit.

He hadn't changed from the night before, and never had he been more grateful that he was a slob, in Buffy's terms, because his not having to fish for clothes was going to save him precious minutes. Xander scooped up the remnants of the towels that he had used to clan Buffy's shoulder the night before and crammed them into the book bag that he had stuffed her old shirt and the prong that he had pulled out of her. He ran into the bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly before grabbing up the bag and leaping down the stairs two at a time. He had to see Giles…he had to find Buffy…

"This isn't a circus boy. Don't run in my house."

"Sorry Dad," Xander ducked his head. He looked at his father sitting at the kitchen table through the doorway. "I'm kinda in a hurry. You think you could giv…"

"Come have some breakfast, Alex." His mother beckoned from the counter. Obviously, unlike in the Summers' home, Xander noted, breakfast in the Harris compound consisted of dry toast and milk.

"I can't Ma. I have to get to school." Xander smiled slightly. His mother was looking at him worriedly and he imagined that his hair looked as frazzled as hers did. He smoothed his hand though it, "Do you think I could get a ride…or take the car?"

"You think you can run though here at all hours, screaming and causing a racquet and then think that I'll give you the keys cuz you're running late?"

"Tony…" Jane Harris pleaded when she turned and saw his glared boring into their teenage son.

"Just get you ass in here and have breakfast with your mother." Tony sighed and turned back to his morning paper.

Xander dropped his gaze before raising it again to his mother. "Ma…"

"Go ahead Alex." She smiled warmly at him. "Just come home after practice for dinner, kay? I hardly see you anymore."

"He's too busy over at the Summers' place, that's why." Tony mumbled. "Too good for you."

Xander spoke in a low voice, "I'll be home by five."

"Alight," Jane nodded and walked over to him with a Pop Tart in hand. "Have a good day Sweetie." She ran her hand down his shoulder. "Plus you look like you need some rest…"

"You not taking your bag to school?" Tony spoke up behind Jane. "I know you need your practice gear what with that meet coming up, right? Where at?"

"Hemery." Xander breathed out. "Just like I told you everyday last week and the news letter said. It's at Hemery in LA." Xander stopped and tried to take a relaxing breath. "So you won't drive me?" He tried to change the subject and not let his rising anger creep into his tone. Tony loved to make his life a living hell, and knew…just knew how to do so in a spectacular fashion. He needed a ride, and all his father wanted to do was try to pick a fight over any and everything possible. Xander had gauged the change in topic to his not eating breakfast, to his curfew, to Buffy, and now, the tried and true, topic of the swim team. Unbelievable

"I have to go to work." Tony turned back to his paper.

"Right." Xander sighed and stepped back from the kitchen. "I'll see you tonight Ma." He didn't say anything else as he turned on his heel and jogged out of the house, trying not to slam the door to hard behind him.

+++

+++

"What are you working so hard on this morning?" Whistler asked as he walked up behind Angel and glanced over his hunched shoulder. "Woulda thought that your kind like ta sleep during daylight hours."

The vampire didn't even look up and continued to study the paper on the table in front of him. Whistler had been watching him work since dawn and he hadn't spoken since. He had simple breezed in just before sunrise and grabbed a drawing pad and a pencil before setting himself at a small table in the center of the living room in the converted abandoned factory that they had taken over.

Angel's brow furrowed and he drew his bottom lip into his mouth with a sigh. "I don't know." He sat back heavily in his chair with his eyes still locked to the picture that he had created. "Just restless I guess." He titled his head to the side and the leant forward to the picture again, this time adding a shadow to the ridge below the objects eyes.

"What the hell is that?' Whistler drew up his lip in disgust and the snatched the pad from Angel to get a closer look. "This thing gives ugly a bad name."

"Tell me about it." Angel ran his hand over his hair and stood up. He didn't see his companion squint hard at his picture and the worried look that settled on his features.

"Where'd you come across this?" Whistler tossed the pad back to the table and took a sip of coffee while Angel paced over by one of the ladders that led up to the second floor.

"Last night," the vampire sighed not really paying attention.

"Oh yeah," Whistler snorted. "You get into the bad blood again down at Willy's? I'm not gonna let you stalk the girl if you're just gonna lie and go on benders."

Angel dismissed his joke and turned to face his guide with a stern look. "It attacked Buffy last night on her patrol." He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw as he faced Whistler, "Do you know what it is?"

Whistler snorted a little and took another sip of coffee. "I'm so sorry man," he set his cup down on the table. "I had no idea." He wasn't Buffy's biggest fan, that was for sure. She was stuck up and arrogant and, well, bitchy, but he never wished her harm. In fact, he had tried to maintain high hopes for the girl. She seemed to be the up and coming beacon of hope for the side of the light and …

Angel studied his guide's expression curiously. He had never really seen it on his face before – a sort of sympathetic concern dulling the cynical humor that usually resided in his eyes. Angel strode forward to the table and scooped up his drawing. "No idea what? Do you know what this is?"

"Look, Angel." Whistler turned slowly to face him. "I know you wanna go kill this thing, but you have no idea what you're dealing with. I'm sorry you lost her…I know she meant a lot to you – gave you something to occupy your days with, and all. But I can't let you rush out and avenge her death with your own. I'm gonna put my foot down on this." He gauged Angel's silence and shook his head. "We can pack up if you want. Move onto the next one…"

"What are you talking about?" Angel's brow furrowed. "Lost her? I didn't loose her."

Whistler let out a breath chuckle of sad disbelief. "The picture," he motioned to the one in Angel's hands – a spiny demonic looking hell beast that had been likened with horrific accuracy onto the paper, down to the crooked snarl left by the things protruding teeth – "You said it attacked the Slayer last night." Angel nodded slowly. "Fella, that's a Vardilus demon. They're not even from this dimension. There's no way the kid survived it…"

"She did." Angel's voice held a sense of proud awe at the notion that Buffy had beaten the odds that, Whistler especially, had set against her. "But it hit her…she was really out of it when we finally got her inside."

"We?" Whistler asked confused.

Angel nodded with a slight sneer. "Me and Xander Harris. He was out with her…"

"Ah yes. The Slayer in training." He smiled briefly, but then let it fall when he refocused. "If the Vardilus hit her, the kid's as good as gone." Whistler didn't think that it was a physical possibility, but he had just witched a vampire pale – imagined that his heart would have stopped if it weren't dead in his chest already. "It has this poison," he went on to explain. "It injects it into its victim's heart and it…well…it's like an acid. Eats the body from the inside out…"

Angel thought back to the night before and let his eyes shut. He wished he could go back in time and get Buffy out of that cemetery…wished that he could make Xander take her to Giles'…wish that he knew what to do to make it better. "Usually only lasts about an hour. After that they're good as gone." The Balance demon shook his head in slight disbelief, "I wonder who brought it here…what brought it here…"

"What if it missed?" Angel asked.

"Missed?"

"Missed her heart." The vampire clarified. "What if it didn't get the poison into her heart?"

"It stuck her though?" Whistler asked bluntly and Angel nodded. "Well, if it didn't get her heart then she's just gonna die slower…more painful."

"How do I stop it?"

Whistler fixed the vampire with a confused glare at his grave tone. "You don't. Angel, man, this thing…we didn't even think that they were real until a couple decades ago…"

Angel shrugged his shoulders. "So there's no antidote? Nothing that can be done besides sit here and watch her die?"

Whistler tossed him a look as if to affirm his statement, but then softened at the renewed devastation that set on the vampire's dark features. "I mean…I heard this things once," he started when Angel slumped back down into his chair. "About the Vardilus..."

"What?" Angel was on his feet and facing Whistler in a heart beat.

"The brain," the other demon sighed. "It can off set the poison."

Angel's fce turned into a disgusted grimace. "It's brain?"

"She would have to…" Whistler cleared his throat, "ingest it." Both demon's grimaced at each other. "That it if it's still alive. Once it dies, the whole body liquefies."

Angel was already moving to the back of the factory and the sewer grate that was located there. "Then I'll have to find it before whoever has it figures that out…and I guess get the brain."

"It's not that simple." Whistler interrupted his stride and picked up the drawing again. He approached Angel where he had stopped and held it out for the vampire to take. "If whoever summoned it knew enough to know that it would be able to take out the Slayer, then they might have known about the whole cure for the venom…it might already be too late."

"I have to try." Angel said solemnly, putting the drawing into the inside pocket of his leather duster. "I can't just wait…"

"She doesn't have a lot of time either way." Whistler said directly. "Do you even know where she is? It might be too la…"

"It's not." Angel cut him off – he didn't even want to consider that Buffy might have… "I would know." Whistler nodded at him, but didn't speak. "And if I can't find her…I'll just look for the boy." Angel turned and lifted the grate to the sewers and jumped down, landing with a quiet splash.

"Angel, man."

He glanced up to see Whistler's face through the opening in the sewer ceiling.

"G'luck."

+++

+++

Taking the stairs to the front of the school two at a time Xander dodged the milling students and squeezed past his loitering peers to get inside of the school. He ignored Jeff waving him over to the swim team bench in the Quad and continued quickly down the outdoor hall – the short cut to the library. He was well aware that he missed the morning weight lift session, and he didn't care enough right now to argue about it.

Xander stuck to the wall in order to move faster and turned the corner in a near run while adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. He wasn't paying attention when he ran directly into a smaller solid form and caused the person to drop all of their folders to the ground.

"Mr. Harris," Ms. French smiled, but shook her head at him. "You're always in a hurry. And I'm always in the way."

Xander gulped and stared at the teacher with wide eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled out and dropped quickly to help gather her papers. Ms. French followed his movements and leveled with his stooped position on the floor. "Well, thank you for taking a breath to help me this time."

He wasn't sure if he matched her warm smile, but he doubted tat he had. Not only did she always make him exceedingly nervous, but her comment sent him careening back to the previous week where he had run into her on his way out of computer class, right before he had tried to…

Buffy. "I gotta go Ms. French. Sorry again."

The teacher eyed the nervous boy in front of her, still maintaining her smile. "And here I thought the once Ms. Calendar returned that you would only be able to run out of my life once a day."

Xander gulped again and dropped his gaze to her hand where it came to rest on his shoulder and then run down his arm. That time he did manage a nervous snort of laughter and he took a step back. "Well no offense, but bio…bad; computers…bad – get those two together and subtract one Xander." Library. Have to go…gottagogottagogottago…

He remained standing in front of the raven haired teacher who was smiling up at him and still touching his arm lightly. He wondered why he was fidgeting, and more so, if she knew. "Hopefully you'll find it in your schedule to make it to bio today," she suggested with raised eyebrows. "I won't force Ms. Calendar's class on you, but do try to make it to mine."

Xander nodded and swallowed. "I'll see what I can do."

"You do that," Ms. French's smile died a little when Xander seemed to snap back into the present and take a small step out of her grasp. "And, remember, Xander. If you need a tutorial on what you've missed, please don't hesitate to make an appointment with me."

"Yeah," Xander nodded and continued to back slowly down the hall. "I'll keep that in mind…tell Buffy too." He watched the teachers face harden considerably, but ignored his internal question as to why that was the case exactly. "Well, I'll see you."

"Third period, Mr. Harris."

"Third. Gotcha." Xander smiled briefly before resetting his pace to the library. He hadn't seen Willow, and more distressingly, neither hide nor hair of any sign that Buffy might be present today. He figured that after he talked to Giles he could try his hand at ditching campus and heading over to her house just to check. Maybe she had made it home, and was feeling a little better. Maybe a couple more hours sleep was all that she needed. And maybe…hopefully, in the back of his mind, behind his own doubtfulness at this scenario, Buffy would be sitting at the huge table in the library being lectured by Giles on the ill effects of worrying the living shit out of her best friend.

Xander pushed open the swinging doors of the muskily lit library and his eyes fell to the table. No such luck at Buffy being there, and his heart jerked in his chest. "GIILLLEEESSS!!!!" He stepped into the room and looked around, seeing nobody in the area. "GIIILLLEEESSSS!!!"

"Xander," Giles condescending tone preceded his emerging from the stacks. "How nice of you to drop by so early in the morning…and screaming."

"Giles," Xander breathed and jogged across the room to the base of the steps. "Thank God you're here. Have you seen Buffy?"

The Watcher's brow furrowed at the boy's worried expression. "No," he stepped down onto the main floor of the library, "As a matter of fact she didn't come in this morning. Why do you ask?" His question was born out of the fact that if he hadn't seen Buffy, and Xander hadn't then something was obviously very wrong. That coupled with the fact that the teenager was now dumping the contents of his backpack onto the large table and facing him with a serious expression, set Giles' brain in motion as to trying to figure out what was happening.

Xander swallowed and glanced down the ruined cloth on the table. Buffy had told him not to mention the fact that she had allowed him to train and patrol with her, but the situation at hand was making that an impossibility. He would have to weather the consequences of his admission when this was over. "We got attacked last night." Xander held up the plastic bag with the prong in it for Giles to see.

The Watcher's face fell and he stepped forward to take the mysterious bag from the boy. "Where were you? What is going on?"

"I wish I knew," Xander sighed and watched as Giles started sifting through the stained remains of Buffy's shirt. "We were in the cemetery. Buffy was slaying…and then Angel showed up, all of a sudden this thing jumped out of the bushes and it grabbed at her. We ran away but that thing was still in her back." He gestured to the bag and Giles opened in and examined the boney spine up close. "I think it made her really sick…" Xander choked on his breath but fought back any outward emotion just yet. "I haven't seen her since last night, and I'm kinda wiggin about it…she….she was really out of it."

Giles slid his glasses up to his forehead and spread out one of the black encrusted towels on the table. "All this stuff was coming out of her shoulder where that spine thing was. I pulled it out and it whooshed," Xander offered the explanation for the question he saw on the tip of the Watcher's tongue.

"Yes," the older man's tone was reflective. "And you said that you were in the cemetery together?" Xander nodded but averted his eyes.  Giles settled that he would find out about the why and the wherefore of that whole story once he got to the bottom of what exactly might be wrong with his missing charge. "And you haven't seen her? What exactly was she acting like?"

Xander looked down at the hard wood table and leant forward against it while he remembered Buffy's tremors and cold sweats and incoherent babbling…and the horrifying liquidly discoloration of her shoulder and side. He didn't feel like he could accurately describe what the previous night had been like for him, but he did his best to make his description as vivid as possible for the Watcher, who listened with rapt fascination.

Giles took off his glasses when Xander finished his description of the Slayer's symptoms and fought down his own peeked worry about her whereabouts. He rubbed them clean and placed them back on his face. "And she was able to just walk out of your house this morning?"

Xander looked to the wall sheepishly. "I think she went out of the window." He looked at the Brit when he heard the exaggerated sigh. "And I know…I guess I'm a heavier sleeper than I thought."

"You should have brought her directly to me." Giles bit out and took wide strides to the book shelf behind the table. He was free to keep his occult references on the floor here in the high school, as not too many students frequented the library in the first place, let alone, checked out books.

"She said that she didn't want to. She said that she was fine."

"Yes, and according to you she also said that vampire dogs eat jello invitations. Don't tell me that you took that to heart as well." Giles fired at the teen and slammed three books down on the table. He glared ahead at Xander who seemed to have nothing to say, and sighed. "Do you remember what this thing looked like?"

Xander nodded. "I'd for sure recognize it if I saw it again," he said quietly. "It was huge…orange and spiny. About seven feet tall and three hundred pounds. All fangs and claws," Xander hesitated for a moment and a small grin broke out on his face, "She was kicking its ass like none other." He looked at Giles, "You shoulda seen her, it was great."

"Well," Giles offered a half smile but quickly forced it down in favor of a serious expression that relayed his worry, "for now I suggest that you call Buffy's home – see if she went there, first. Then try to find Willow. She might be able to help identify the substance on these clothes; that might help. If it is making Buffy sick, knowing what it is might offer a cure. I'll scower my resources until we find what we are dealing with."

Xander nodded and jogged over to Giles' office to use the phone while the Watcher set himself at the table. Finally a plan. That was just what he needed and why he had been in such a hurry to get to Giles in the first place. He knew a sense of order would be reached once he was given a course of action. Xander dialed Buffy's personal number, but quickly gave up when her answering machine picked up. He punched in the number to the main house line and waited, hoping that somebody would pick up.

"Daddy?"

Dawn's quivering voice shook Xander to the point that he almost hung up from not recognizing it. "Dawnie?"

The pre teen let out a breath, "Xan…"

"Yeah," his brow furrowed and he held the phone tightly to his ear. "What's the matter?" He almost already knew, but a part of him still didn't want to hear it. "Is Buffy there?"

"Nmmhmm," the younger girl's voice hummed through the receiver with a slight shaky quality. "She was…she came in this morning…."

"Was she alright?" Another question that Xander already know the answer to.

"Nmmhmm," the previous answer was repeated. "She was all pale and…she passed out Xander. Mom and Dad took her to the hospital and…I've just been sitting here. I don't know what's happening…"

Xander listened to Buffy's little sister break down in tears over the phone and he hurried to console her the best that he could. "It'll be ok Dawnie," he whispered. "They'll call soon. I'm sure that she's ok… I…" he didn't know if he believed his own statement and he wanted nothing more than to get off of the phone before his own voice belayed his feelings. "I'm gonna go Dawn. I'm going to try to get some more information. You just sit tight and wait for your parents to call…I'll try to see if I can get there."

"Ok," Dawn sniffed.

"Don't cry D-miester." Xander tried to make his voice smile. "Buffy'll be a pain in your ass again in no time."

Dawn tried to laugh a little. "Sometimes she's not so bad."

Xander knew that the little girl was scared when she would defend her sister to anyone, especially him. "Yea, I know." he smile a little. "I'm gonna go. I'll call back in a few."

"Alright Xander."

He stayed on the line until the soft click signaled that Dawn had hung up first before he put down the receiver. He jumped up from his perch on Giles' desk and ran back into the main room. "She passed out," he said hurriedly and the Englishman's head snapped up from the page he was engrossed in. "I'm going to the hospital."

"Xander, wait." The boy turned to face him and Giles stood up from the table. "Don't you think that you should find Willow first? The hospital is the safest possible place…"

"Go to the office and have her paged." Xander shook his head and started back out of the swinging doors. "I have to go."

"Bloody hell," Giles mumbled at the empty room while he watched Xander disappear in a run down the hall. "I'll never find this thing without his description." He cleaned his glasses again while he made his way back to the table and looked back down at the book.

"The Vardilus demon."

Giles' head snapped up and he found himself looking at the souled helper vampire who now stood on the slightly raised second floor of the library. "Angel," the Watcher greeted heavily.

The vampire moved quickly down the steps to the side of the table and pulled out his drawing from his pocket. He slid it to Giles and watched him study the paper while his own eyes fixed on the contents of Xander's backpack that were spread on the table. "This came from Buffy? All from last night?"

"It appears so," Giles answered distractedly and opened another book.

"Where's Xander?"

The Watcher glanced up at the monotone question. "He went to the hospital. It appears that Buffy passed out this morning…"

"She's going to die if we don't find this demon." Angel stated. "We need whoever summoned it and we need to take it from them."

"Die?" Giles let his book shut and he looked at the immortal being with wide eyes.

"That stuff on those towels – its poison. The Vardilus aims for the heart, but Xander pushed Buffy to the side at the last minute. It missed."

"Meaning?"

"That she's deteriorating from the inside out." Angel filled in. "Unless we can get her the heart of the demon she's going to die."

"How do you know all of this?" Giles asked with a sense of awe while he studied the vampire.

"I've got my sources." Angel slide into a chair at the head of the table. "But I don't know the most important piece of information."

"Who did this?" Giles nodded, his eyes fixed to Angel's pencil drawing.

+++

+++

"Shit." Xander shut his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. The bell had rung while he was in the library, and everybody who he could think of that would drive him to the hospital had headed to class…or had left already themselves. He didn't want to, but if worse came to worse he would foot it the five miles to the hospital.

He wandered the hall in search of any licensed stragglers, and not for the first time cursed Tony Harris for being one of the hugest ass holes in the history of the world. Xander was headed out to the student parking lot in hopes of seeing anybody while debating on whether or not he should go to history and try to talk Cordelia into taking him – a last resort if there ever was one, but a completely dealable situation if it would get him to Buffy. He stopped with a relieved smile when he saw a slightly familiar face focused on the face of a row of lockers. "Oz?!"

The now black haired boy turned his dedicated study away from his locker to face the person who had called his name. "Hey," he offered with an indifferent shrug. Oz recognized Xander from around school, and mostly now because he was one of Willow's best friends. "What's up?" His voice still didn't relay any show of emotion.

Xander jogged up to the smaller boy and smile awkwardly.  "A hell of a lot actually," he started and Oz watched him intently waiting for him to continue. "Have you seen Willow, actually?"

"See? Yes. I saw her." Oz nodded tightly. "Actually spoken to, not to much."

Xander nodded. "I need a huge favor man." Oz was hardly even an associate of his and it felt a little weird asking for things from somebody that he hardly knew, but he had to do what he had to do.

"Name it." Oz said out of the blue, creating a higher sense of comfort that Xander sighed a relieved breath at.

"Buffy's real sick," he swallowed, "Like in the hospital sick, and I sorta need a ride over there."

Oz nodded. "Ok. You ready now?" He pulled his keys out of his pocket. "I hate chem anyway."

Xander smiled a little more and followed behind Oz down the hall towards the parking lot. "Do you know what's the matter with her?" Oz's stoic demeanor held a matching sense of urgency at Xander's apparent agitation, but he simply shook his head.

"She wasn't feeling well last night." He said finally as they climbed into Oz's van and he started the engine. "I called her house and her sister said that she passed out."

"Whoa." Oz's simple response was relayed with a slight widening of his eyes, but he stayed focused on the street.

Xander fidgeted nervously in his seat. "Thanks for doing this man."

"Anytime." Oz nodded. "You'd do the same for me."

Xander nodded and looked out of the window while Oz pulled into the hospital parking lot. "If you see Willow," he turned with his hand already on the door handle before the car pulled to a complete stop, "Tell her…"

"To go to the library." Oz stated with a nod and met Xander's confused stare. "You three always hang out in there," he filled in. "That's where I always see you anyway. I'll find her and tell her the deal when I get back."

"Thanks." Xander said quietly and slid out of the passenger side.

"Tell Buffy I said to feel better," Oz added uncertainly before Xander shut the door. "Even if she's not awake, I saw this movie where they said that unconscious people can hear you talk to them – helps them wake up."

Xander's brow furrowed while he considered what Oz had just told him. "Huh…that's pretty interesting actually. Hopefully she's awake, but I'll tell her." He slammed the door shut and ran through the automatic doors of the emergency room.

+++

+++

Dr. Griffon studied the chart in front of him while he tried to relate what he had ascertained from his patient to her, rightfully, worried parents. Truthfully, he didn't have a lot he could tell them. He had never really seen anything like the young teenager's wound and she still wasn't responding to any of the stock antibiotics that they were still pumping into her.

"We administered rabies shots in addition to the penicillin drip for the bite." He could only assume that it was a bite, because nothing that she may have fallen on or been attacked with would have been able to cause such a violent reaction in such a small amount of time. "I am assuming that I'm dealing with a high grade infection, but my main concern is dropping her fever."

"Will she wake up after that?" Joyce asked, wringing her hands anxiously. Hank sensed her worry and wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulder. He was feeling the same thing that she was, but was doing a much better job at hiding it – or repressing it…the fact that his baby girl was laying in guarded condition, not even in the ICU, yet because of her instability. Buffy had been perfectly fine the day before. Arguing with him and Dawn, play fighting with Xander, getting ready to go to the Bronze and just be a kid. Now…now they were telling him that if Buffy's fever of 105 continued to rise and they were unable to stop it there was an exponential chance that her brain would stop functioning all together.

The doctor crossed his arms low around his waist. "That's what we're hoping for." He paused and eyed the girl's parents. "You wouldn't happen to know of any animals that she may have come in contact with…I showed you the bite – the staff and I are just at a loss of what might have caused it."

"Then this is some sort of reaction?" Hank tilted his head towards Joyce. He could tell that she was trying fruitlessly to recall whether or not she had seen Buffy interacting with any animals that may have caused this to happen.

"I would have to say that it is." Dr. Griffon nodded. "I'm ruling out a dog bite simply because I wasn't able to fine a definite bite pattern, but an exotic maybe? Do any of your neighbors maybe have an animal illegally that may have gotten free?"

Joyce shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

Dr. Griffon sighed as he was set back to square one. "I called for an infection unit," he told the parents. "I'm hoping that they might be able to shed some more light on the bite. Maybe be able to suggest an antidote."

"Like antivenom?" Hank questioned with a furrowed brow. He had seen something like that on the Discovery Channel, "Could it have been a snake?"

The doctor chuckled despite himself and the gravity of the situation. "I'd love to think so," he shook his head discouraged, "But even if it were, that leads back to the exotic in the neighborhood – and more questions than I have right now. The bite location…the viability of some sort of anaconda hybrid in Sunnydale…There's too much that's not matching up, and I'm afraid that until the staff can make some sort of sense of this that there's not much more that can be done to help."

Joyce's chin shook and she turned more into Hank's shoulder – was pulled closer to him when she released a choked sob. "What does that mean?" her husband's angry question sounded muffled from his shoulder. "We brought her here so that you could at least get her to wake up. She was awake when she came home this morning."

Dr. Griffon hated this aspect of his job. Hope was something that he loved being able to offer families. Especially those that came to him with sick children, but too often it seemed that his hope wasn't an option in the town. "Would there be anybody else that might have seen what happened. Any friends?"

Joyce pulled away from Hank's shoulder, her eyes bright with recollection. "Xander. He was probably with her."

Hank looked down at her and nodded. "Yeah." He lifted his head to face the doctor, "My daughter's friend was out with her last night." He turned back to Joyce, "I'll go call the school and see if they can put me through to him."

Joyce nodded her voice just about a whisper. "And Dawn too. You should go get her while we wait."

"Alright," Hank nodded and dropped his arm from around Joyce's shoulder. "And you'll go in and sit with her," he spoke to his wife but glanced up to the doctor to avow his statement.

"Yes." Dr. Griffon nodded tightly. "Of course. Might help bring Buffy around," he smiled some and reached out his arm to signal Joyce to follow him to the small room that they had set Buffy up in.

"I'll hurry," Hank called after her as she made her way down the hall and made idle chit chat with the doctor at her side.

"Mr. Summers!"

Both Hank and, the nearly departed, Joyce turned at the familiar voice and saw Xander jogging towards them. "Xander!" Joyce called out and jogged back to where the boy had stopped in front of her husband. "That's Xander," she called back to the doctor excitedly. She pulled the winded teen into a quick hug and then held him out at arms length to study him. "We were just going to try to call you."

Xander swallowed and nodded. Hospitals made him queasy now, especially since the person that he most wanted to be able to protect currently needed to be in one. "I'm sorry," he choked a little, "Buffy…I…"

"Do you know what happened?" Hank's voice was uncharacteristically harsh. He wasn't anger at Xander, per say, but mostly with the lack of control he had over the situation. HE was supposed to be Superman for his little girls, but now he was waiting at the beck and call of doctors and teams and a host of other people that didn't understand the vow that he had made to Buffy when she had been born – that he wouldn't let anything hurt her ever.

"Yes," Dr. Griffon came up behind Joyce and eyed the teenage boy. "If you have any information that could help. Your friend is extremely ill, Xander."

The dark haired boy averted his eyes and felt the tears stinging them. He knew that he couldn't very well say that Buffy was out slaying and a demon attacked and poisoned her. He didn't know what he could say that would be of any help, and he didn't want to lie because he knew first hand, without all of the terms and formal study of the hospital staff, how sick Buffy was; and all he wanted was to make her better. "I don't know," he mumbled finally. "She was fine when I last saw her." He hated himself. Wished he would just disappear into the nothingness he felt when he saw both of Buffy's parents faces fall, and Buffy's doctor turn away briefly with a defeated huff.

"Xander are you absolutely sure?" Hank gripped the his forearms and forced him to look him in the eyes. "You didn't see Buffy last night? This morning?" Xander's eyes flashed up nervously and Hank caught the look in them. "It's ok Xander…if Buffy spent the night at your house…"

"It was late," Xander's voice shook. "I…she didn't…"

"Xander, honey," Joyce pleaded in a softer tone. "It's so important. They don't know if they can get her to wake up," she literally saw Xander's heart slam to a stop for a brief second in his chest. "Did you see anything happen to her last night? You can tell us, please."

"Anything…any animal that may have attacked you two?" Dr. Griffon pressed urgently.

Xander looked around to the three adults and fought back tears at all it took to do what he was about to do. "Can I see her?" he asked with a shaky voice. "Please. I just…can I see her?" He just wanted to let her know that he didn't abandon her – leave her anywhere to suffer. Then he could call Giles and tell him – get him working double time on trying to fix her.

"Xander." Hank pressed.

He shook his head slightly. "I didn't see anything," he whispered. "We went to the Bronze and then went back to my house. There was nothing on the way." Lies…all lies. But what could Buffy's parents and these doctors do anyway. What could anybody but Giles do to make Buffy better? Nothing. "Can I see her now? Please Mr. Summers."

"Yeah," Hank sighed and dropped his hands from Xander's arms. "Take him back."

"I'm afraid that I'm only going to be able to allow Buffy one visitor at a time," Dr. Griffon spoke to Joyce, who had been ready to go sit with Buffy herself.

"It's alright," Joyce sighed and rested her hand on the dejected looking Xander's shoulder. "He can go in before me."

"Thank you Mrs. Summers," Xander whispered and was pushed lightly to follow the doctor.

"I'll be waiting here until you're done, Sweetie."

Her kind words and voice only served to make Xander feel worse so he simply nodded his response.

"He knows something," Hank spoke with narrowed eyes as he watched Xander turn into Buffy's room and leave the doctor standing in the hall. "I know that he knows something."

"If he did he would tell us…he's Xander. He loves Buffy and he would want to help…"

"He's not." Hank bit out and Joyce flinched slightly. "He might be hurting her more."

Joyce shook her head sadly. They both loved Xander like a son, and she refused to believe that he would act in any fashion that wasn't in Buffy's best interest. "If he knows anything he'll tell us," she reassured quietly, but her husband didn't respond.

"I'm going to go back to the house and pick up Dawnie," he stepped away from Joyce. "If there's any change I have my cell phone on."

Joyce watched sadly while Hank walked back down the hall with his head down before she slumped back into one of the plastic chairs in the hallway.

~*~*~

Xander stepped cautiously into the small windowless room and his eyes fell to the stark still figure of his best friend lying in the bed in the center. He looked back over his shoulder but found the Dr. Griffon had already walked away, leaving him alone. "Hey Buff," his voice croaked and he cleared his throat. He approached the side of the bed and lifted one leg to sit on its edge. "Been better I guess, huh?"

Xander wasn't sure why he was trying to joke. What he did know was that he wasn't going to even receive a patented blank look from Buffy. He dropped his head and held his hands clasped in his lap. "You know this is the last time I'm ever listening to you right?" he chuckled a little. "I'm sorta glad I don't really know if you can hear me…I hope you can, but I don't think that really matters – but…Angel was right." Xander tilted his head to the side and glanced up to Buffy's pale features, relaxed in an unwitting slumber. "He said that you needed to go see Giles and he was right. I should have made you go."

He was startled by the wet drip that landed on his forearm as it was exposed by the short sleeve shirt t-shirt he was wearing. His voice cracked one final time and the tears started to fall – leaking faster than he could control even through rapid sniffling. Xander reached out and grasped her limp right hand from where it rested at her side, "Buff," he leant forward and moved over to her corresponding ear. "Buffy," he whispered again. "I lied for you. The doctor thinks something bit you…and your parents…I couldn't tell them anything. I didn't know what to say, so I said that I didn't know anything." Xander squeezed his eyes shut and raised his forehead slightly only to let it drop – pressed to the heated skin of her own. "Buffy you can't die, now," he told her without a hint of a smile. "I lied and…if you die because I didn't tell them something I should have…I…I don't know what I'd do."

Xander turned his gaze the monitor to her left and noted the slow and steady ping of her heart beat and shut his eyes again. He brought his left hand up and ran it through the loose hair that was framing her face against the pillow. "I need you Buff. Please don't leave me." He swallowed deeply, "I went to Giles. He's researching as we speak…I speak. You're just listening right? For the first time ever." He wished that he had laughed a little at his joke. Xander leant to the side more and pressed a shaky kiss to the side of Buffy's dry lips and held for a moment. "Please wake up, Buffy," he whispered when he pulled back slightly. He pulled away and sat up, still keeping his hand locked with hers, "C'mon Buff. Slayer, remember. Get up. Fight. Raise hell…punch me in the Adams apple again, and try to convince me that it was an accident…anything, please…"

She didn't move and Xander let his head fall forward with a bitter laugh. "Only in the movies, right." He got to his feet and brought her hand with him, pressing a lingering kiss to her palm before settling back to Buffy's side. "I'm going to go back to school and help Giles…hopefully find Angel. See?" he added with false brightness. "I'm desperate. I'm going to go to Angel for help. But if you wake up," he peered down at her, "it'll be worth it. I'll trust him if he can bring you back." Xander sighed and ran his hand over Buffy's soft blonde hair one more time before stepping back towards the door. "I'll be back," he tossed over is shoulder for no reason in particular. "I'll make it better."

+++

+++

The Cotex. His new favorite book of prophecies – it housed the one that detailed his ascension. It was not meant to be on the night of the Harvest, but his time was coming. Drawing closer with each passing day, and it was coming. She would come to him and set him free.

The Slayer.

It should be a joyous occasion. The wait for his arrival above ground, but it wasn't. His Hell on earth was suffering and all for want of a moronic little boy with a Napoleon complex who was bent on destroying his former best friend. The girl who was his key out of his supernatural prison was also, apparently, the target for a game of teenage cat and mouse.

"Am I to understand that Jesse summoned a demon to have the Slayer killed?" the Master's voice was eerily calm and the news bearing minion nodded cautiously.

"A Vardilus demon from Gragor Dimension."  The other vampire spoke up. "And I think he may have succeeded."

"May have?" the little boy who always stayed at the Master's side questioned with dark slit eyes. "Is she still alive?" The minion nodded again. "Then we just have to keep her that way."

"Martin," The Master smiled crookedly at his follower, "Can we do that?"

Martin shrugged his shoulders. "She's been poisoned, Sir," his voice shook through his demonic visage.

"Then we find the antidote and we cure her." The Master stated matter-of-factly.

"Help the Slayer?" another minion spoke up.

"Of course," the Anointed spoke up and then stood to his feet to walk around the damp lair. "She will help us."

"Colin," the Master called out in a soft voice – the complete opposite of the horror that was his actual face. "Do be a dear and get that demon to our young Buffy's friends," he bit out the last word. "They will figure out what to do with it then, yes." The boy nodded. "And if they don't," the Master added, "Martin. You help them."

Colin nodded and headed into the sewers, followed by Martin and five other adult vampires. "I don't want that girl dead yet," the Master called out after them and his voice reverberated through the empty cavern. "I need her."

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The End Part 2c