A/N: Three guesses as to what inspired this and the first two don't count. Let me know what you guys think.

"What happened!" demanded Buffy as she stormed into the meeting room. She had teleported, like most of those in the room, to the present location, but was one of the last to arrive. Though she looked thoroughly exhausted, that didn't stop her from demanding that she get her answers immediately.

"We… We're not sure…" Giles said hesitantly. "Everything seemed to be going relatively fine with the conclave when the whole thing suddenly exploded."

"Exploded! What happened?" Buffy exclaimed.

"We aren't sure," Angel spoke up. "I haven't heard or seen anything like this happen before."

"Willow? Xander?" she inquired hesitantly.

Both men lowered their eyes.

"No…" she whispered heartbreakingly, hugging herself as if to stave off the oncoming grief.

"Willow is gone… Disappeared. We searched the bodies the best we could, but…" Angel informed her. "Her body wasn't among the dead."

"Xander?" she inquired once more.

"H-he is the only known survivor at this time," Giles said.

"Thank god…" Buffy nearly cried in relief though feeling guilty that she felt such great relief when so many others hadn't made it- especially in light of the fact that Willow's status was unknown.

"Buffy… He's not the same… He's changed…" Giles said hesitantly.

"Changed how?" she implored.

"I think its best we show you," Giles replied as he led her and Angel towards what appeared to be a makeshift prison guarded by multiple Slayers.

"Giles, you're seriously scaring me right now," Buffy said with trepidation as they approached. She braced herself for the worst as one of the new Slayers, whose name was unknown to her, unlocked the door. What she saw nearly made her heartbreak further. In the center of the room sat a catatonic Alexander Harris, who stared unblinkingly head of him and was shackled heavily to the floor. She turned to her Watcher and former lover in betrayal. "Why?"

"Watch," was Angel's one word reply.

She did.

It was then she noticed it, a strange marking on his hand, which then began to glow and crackle with power. Other than an involuntary twitch of his hand, Xander did not move.

"What is that!?" Buffy asked, even more afraid now that she had been.

"We are not sure, but we think it has something to do with the phenomenon outside," Giles said leading her out of the room to a nearby window.

"Again, what is that!?" she asked.

"Some sort of dimensional rift," Giles explained. "Given the coloration and the fact that Xander emerged from it before he lost consciousness makes us believe that both the mark and it are connected."

"So what do we do?" Buffy asked, getting a handle on the situation.

"We wait for Xander to regain cognizance. If the mark and rift are connected, then it is likely, without Willow, that Xander is our only hope in closing the rift," Giles informed her.

"And if he can't?" Buffy asked hesitantly.

"Hope he can," Angel replied, answering her without answering her.

When Xander began to regain cognizance an hour later, the first thought to go through his mind was, 'I'm never drinking again.'

His first conscious thought was verbalized when he met the worried green eyes of an angel before him.

"Can I have you?" It was said with such innocence that angel was unsure whether she should laugh or cry.

She opted for the former.

"Still the same old Xander, huh?" she asked with a slight smile on her face, though her eyes welled with tears.

"Who?" he asked her, his face alight with confusion.

"Xander… What?" the angel asked in confusion. Looking him directly in his eye, and with more calm than she most certainly felt, hesitantly spoke to him once more. "Do you know what's going on?"

"I… No… I… I don't remember… Why don't I remember?" Xander's sorrowful look only made her more depressed and she was just mere seconds from bursting into tears. He attempted to lift his hand to caress her face and offer comfort, but the shackles allowed him no such movement. "Don't cry, angel."

His words and actions left her no other recourse and she tearfully fled left the room.

"I'm sorry." Xander whispered, looking down at the floor in shame, wondering what was going and what he had done that led to his current predicament.

"It's not your fault," said the comforting voice of an older man. "A lot has happened. Too much to go through with so little time."

Xander didn't acknowledge him.

"Harris, we need your help," said another man, though there was something off about him, something that set Xander on edge.

Narrowing his eyes at the handsome man that he instantly disliked for unknown reasons. "Why should I help you?"

"Because at this moment, you are very likely the only one who can help us," the older man.

"Why?" Xander asked.

"We were hoping you could tell us, but…" The older man trailed off his explanation, which was promptly taken up by Xander.

"I don't remember…"

"Yes."

Xander's mark surged with power.

"What's happened to me?"

"We don't know," the older man informed him. "You were just barely alive when we found you. We were unsure if you would recover."

Xander looked at the man determinedly. He was unsure about the older man and strongly disliked the younger one, the angel he could help but be instantly smitten with her. Whatever they wanted, for her, he'd do it. "How can I help?"