Xander was the last to trudge into the Summers' home, carrying two bags in his left hand and glaring at the ground. The rest of the mall trip had been interesting and annoying to say the least. Buffy had gone back and forth about Faith and then drilled him on what precisely she had said, and after that, she had all but zoned in on him, as if he had suffered some mental trauma after exchanging a few words with a random girl. Willow had already been on the hover-bandwagon and Buffy had been washing back and forth over it before Faith, so now that her entire being was focused on him he felt his nerves grating.

When they came home, both Buffy and Willow had loaded their arms with bags and ran into the house. Dawn had taken a three or four of her own bags, and Spike had just stomped into the house, duster billowing behind him irately. When Xander had reached the huge car's trunk there had only been two bags and they were from the random accessory stores they had gone to. He didn't know why Dawn hadn't just snatched them up as well, but he was glad to have something to carry in his hand so that he could kick the door shut with his sneaker.

He followed the girls into the kitchen, trying to shake the annoyed look from his face. He didn't want the girls to fall down harder on him. They would ask if he was okay and try to make him take a seat and, god knew, they would try to get him a glass of water. Not only that, but Joyce and Giles would probably be in the kitchen and if he went in scowling and glaring he would probably be lecture about attitudes and tone of voice. His mother sure as hell had never taken to any attitude very well.

Once in the kitchen he set the bags as gently as he could on the island in the center, before throwing himself into a seat beside Giles, who sat at the table peeling potatoes for Joyce. Giles took a quick look at him as the girls gushed to Joyce about all the shiny and sparkly things they bought while out and about.

"What did you get, Xander?" he asked, pausing the vegetable peeler to focus his full attention on his ward.

He shrugged, keeping his irritation firmly out of his voice when he said, "I got some fudge. Didn't really see much of anything else that caught my attention." He reached into his pocket to pull out the change for Giles, but a sharp look over his glasses told Xander that the older man knew what he was doing and that he should abort.

He pulled his hand out of his pocket sans money, and placed his good hand on the table to drum distractedly. Giles looked at him calmly; Xander felt the gaze even as he listened to his friends show off all their new goodies and finds. When the itching at the side of his neck became too much, he looked back over to the older man, who still watched him calmly.

"Perhaps you should go watch television for a bit. Try to relax, hm?" he suggested, nodding towards the living room.

He released a breath he hadn't known he was holding and nodded back at his guardian before taking his leave towards the living room. Devoid of everyone else, the television was off, the remote resting on the coffee table. Xander picked it up and switched the television on. The cartoon channel was still on from this morning so he just leaned back against the couch and tried to relax in the calm of the empty room.

He did the breathing exercises his therapist told him to try when he was wound up, breathing even and deep, even and deep, even and deep…

"Xander! Xander!"

He stumbled down the stairs of his old home, towards his father's voice. He felt fear caught in his chest, heart hammering loudly in his ears as he came down from his room. He saw Tony Harris just before he turned the corner, tall, handsome, and bulky. His fist came out of nowhere and caught Xander in the solar plexus.

He stumbled, coughing but unable to bring oxygen back into his lungs. Blood pounded in his ears as he doubled over clutching at his struck chest. He tried to straighten up again, but his father's fist came down against the base of his neck sending him to the floor with a painful thud.

Hazy words came above the din rushing in his ears. "…know what you are…stupid fag…saw you kissing him…"

A kick came sharply to his ribs, and he gasped in pain, but that was the only breath he was able to pull in as he felt the bones cracking under his father's off-brand leather shoes. He tried to curl up, to protect himself, but it was useless. Tony managed to land a kick to his stomach, between his arms and up-pulled knees.

"…shoulda fucking known…always a girly-boy…"

He was yanked off the ground by the back of his tee-shirt, just high enough for his father to slam his head against the ground four times. The roaring sound of his blood became a shrill ringing as pain exploded across his skull.

Still he managed to hear his father's furious words, "…shoulda beaten it outta you ages ago…knew this would happen…shoulda fucking drowned you…worthless freak…never be good for anything…"

His eyes felt hot and he wasn't sure if it was tears or blood. He didn't honestly care when he was wrenched from the floor by his arm and pulled, stumbling, to his feet. Tony punched him in the face this time, sending him to the ground yet again. His father knelt beside him, grabbing hold of his wrist, twisting it as he pulling it up his back. He whispered things in his ear, indiscernible now that the pain was taking over his entire upper body, but hateful, cruel…true…

He felt the strain of the bone, knew what was coming. He turned to plead with his father, to tell him that it hurt, and that he wasn't…he wasn't, he promised, he would change. But it wasn't Tony he saw, and he turned his face away from the angry, green eyes of Giles.

"Xander!"

He cried out, startled, scared, and so fucking betrayed. He scrambled away from the source of the voice, further into couch he had unwittingly fallen asleep on.

Sweet, blue eyes widened, before Dawn leaned towards him, reaching her hand out for him to take when he was ready.