At any other time, it would have been indisputably attention-grabbing, even in the town of Sunnydale, whose inhabitants could ignore just about anything. You had a middle-aged man fully dressed in a formal blue suit except for being barefoot (the shoes and socks had been yanked off and tossed away), frantically running at highway speeds along the city streets, skinny tie madly fluttering over his left shoulder from the wind of his passage, eyes glowing bright green/yellow, and his head lifted up in the air to snuffle deeply in a desperate search for his friends' scent.

On this Halloween night, people had other, more serious concerns, since that runner wasn't actually trying to kill them, destroy their homes, and devour the family pets. As Xander dashed through the battle zones holding those individuals that had been changed into their costumed characters and the rest of the unaffected populace, with these latter persons usually fleeing for their lives, he watched with horror the anarchy around him, becoming even more anxious about Buffy and Willow as he kept on searching.

It didn't mean Xander avoided doing what he could to end the bedlam created tonight, but he never stopped in his hunt during his efforts to protect innocents. Still running at full speed, Xander cast many more Orbs of Confinement, exactly like the one he'd again laid on the first demon just before he'd taken off, against every single Chaos-affected person the teenager encountered. It didn't matter if they were heroes, villains, neutrals, or none of the above; there simply wasn't time to pick and choose. They all got targeted, and while white energy spheres swallowed up these now-stunned combatants, Xander additionally cast more spells hastily demanded from Wilkins' memories. Healing enchantments were laid upon anyone who was wounded, magically curing their hurts (thankfully, nobody had been killed yet). Mending spells put out fires, completely repaired anything that had been destroyed, and restored utility services to homes.

However reluctant he was to do so, Xander also repeatedly used the Sunnydale Syndrome spell at its strongest level. The innocent bystanders were directed by the firmest command possible to go home, and stay there, all while forgetting that they'd had anything else besides a normal Halloween. Held prisoner in their magical globes, the insensible people, who'd had the bad luck to buy their costumes from a guilty someone who was really gonna regret that, were also zapped by Sunnydale Syndrome, ordering them to as well forget virtually all of tonight's events and remember only that they'd gone trick-or-treating, eaten all their candy, and then had headed for home, feeling a need for some Pepto-Bismol to settle their stomachs.

A last-minute thought had a loping Xander pointing back over his shoulder at the Chaos-affected, while putting upon them all a variant of the ignoring spell that would cause any passer-by wandering near those people to overlook the fact there were unconscious characters from decades of popular culture floating inside giant balls of glowing-white energy. Finally reaching a part of the suburbs where seemingly the disorder hadn't yet reached, Xander put on a little more speed in his Hyena-aided dash and he kept on sniffing the air. His heart leapt, as he smelled the faintest trace of a pair of very familiar feminine scents.

Absently waving his right arm while still casting the Sunnydale Syndrome spell in case somebody was looking out their window and witnessing how the mayor of the city was performing the totally impossible, a still-sprinting Xander devoted the remainder of his attention to what was really important. His nose locked upon the traces, the teenager zipped down the street, adroitly curved around a corner to run past more houses along a lane, and then-

Lifting his head to draw in an astonished gulp of air, Xander abruptly skidded to a stop, his bare feet taking no injury from this scraping slide along the street asphalt. Hastily spinning around, Xander scrupulously sniffed the atmosphere, beginning to trot back up along the lane as he did this. Coming to one specific house, Xander headed towards the sidewalk in front of this, still testing the air, until he came to a halt, disbelievingly looking around at the deserted area.

From what his nose was telling him, Buffy had been right here, escorting the kids in her charge, until while exactly in the middle of a step, a Slayer in a fancy gown had changed into a totally unfamiliar young woman in a fancy gown (he could smell the identical dry cleaning chemicals). Groaning to himself, "She got zapped, too," Xander prudently sniffed several times until the teenager was confident he'd memorized the stranger's smell. Hyena's memories assured Xander he could now track not-Buffy through anything but an actual thunderstorm with all its heavy rain. However, there was someone else that Xander was truly concerned about.

Backtracking Buffy's odor up to the corner of the lane, Xander's mood brightened a little when he smelled Willow. Apparently they'd separated here, with his Wils going down the other side of the street with her charges, from where Buffy had taken along her own kids, at least until the Slayer had been hit by the Chaos magic. Following the scent, Xander went back down the lane, until he stopped in utter horror after drawing in a routine sniff that told him what he really didn't want to know.

Absolute fear, panic, and terror had been abruptly felt here some time ago, with the corresponding scents of these emotions still hanging in the air, all produced by the children Willow had been looking after, who'd then scattered away in alarm from the exact spot where Xander was standing. His head frantically twisting as he both looked around and sniffed in total dread, Xander's attention was finally caught by an awful sight.

On the front porch of the house he was facing, a lady's black boot partially covered with a white sheet protruded past the end porch railing, with whomever was lying on the raised platform being hidden by the remainder of the railings.

A single bound across the entire lawn brought a terrified Xander right onto the porch, as he then froze, to stare down at the still body lying on the wooden deck. "No, no, noooo…," he pitifully moaned, his voice trailing off as Xander then noticed the familiar white sheet with a now-heartbreaking 'BOO' written on this with a magic marker.

Falling to his knees by the girl's body, Xander tremblingly reached out to the head covered by the hood of the ghost costume, and with the utmost care, he lifted the sheet back, to meet the sightless gaze and slack features of Willow Rosenberg.

After an unknown period of time, Xander found himself once more on his knees on the front lawn of the house, hands palm down on the grass and his fingers digging deeply into the ground, as the teenager then threw his head up towards the skies and he opened his mouth as wide as he could, not yet uttering a sound. His back to where his bested bud was lying, Xander felt the black ball of his grief expand in his chest, well past the capacity of his throat. Still soundlessly holding his mouth open as tears streamed down his cheeks, Xander continued to feel his pain grow, out through his skin and into the world, until this now actually affected his body in such a way that nobody would have ordinarily expected.

Without him noticing the slightest, Xander's fingers sunk into the earth were now pulled up, as these digits and the rest of his body began to slowly ascend into the air. Lost in his sorrow, Xander paid no attention whatsoever to this as he continued to rise, choosing to instead confront his heartbreak.

The very last person that had unreservedly loved Xander Harris was…dead. Willow. His Wils. His. Gone.

Eleven years, from kindergarten to high school, of knowing each other from children to teenagers, and never again a single moment more. He would never see her as a full-grown woman, a mother, a grandmother, in whatever future she might have had.

He knew her, all her moods, the faces she made, her walk, her smell, the sun shining through her auburn hair. He had felt her touching him, his face, his hands, his skin in fun and concern and anger and….love.

In the last few years, as his body had changed from boy to man, he looked at the girl by him with her own changing body, and wondered. But, there was also fear, and shame.

She was his friend, now and forever, and to risk that turning into something else meant the chance of ending their companionship, the single spark of tenderness shown to him that an abused boy huddled up against to keep his soul alive.

He was less than her, the worthless kid of two drunks, who had nothing to offer someone who was so smart and kind and gentle and amazing. Nothing but himself, to shield and guard a wonderful girl against anything and anyone that might hurt her, from a taker of crayons to the worst of the Hellmouth.

*AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT!*

Flinching from what he'd just screamed to himself in his mind, Xander then looked down at a Sunnydale that was spread across its entire locality several thousand feet below.

Xander's newly-acquired magic that had manifested itself when his emotions had overcome him now easily kept the teenager aloft in mid-air, with the young man grimly staring downwards. His heightened senses provided by Hyena's passing continued to effortlessly gather information, as he watched throughout the city flashes of light appear and heard muffled explosions, faint screams, and gunshots, all while Chaos continued to afflict his birthplace.

Someone…had done all this.

Someone…had invaded his territory.

Someone…had hurt his Pack.

Someone…was going to pay.

Xander Harris once more opened his mouth, and this time, he howled all his grief and rage in an overpowering shriek for vengeance.