The Scarlet Letter

It itched.

Xander rubbed his chest, irritated with the tattoo he neither asked for nor wanted.

/Great. Thanks a bunch, Dead Boy. How am I supposed to explain the huge "A" on my chest to everyone in gym class? I don't think anyone is going to buy "I cut myself shaving" or "I ran with scissors."/

He still felt tired and achy, but at least all his wounds had healed. Which was both good news and bad news. Good because it meant Xander wasn't going to die, but bad because no human being should be able to regenerate so quickly. The doctors wanted to study Xander more closely to determine the reason for his lightning fast recovery, but his Mom just wanted to bring him home.

Xander's parents were in the hallway, busy arguing with the doctors to get him released. He tried not to cringe when he heard phrases like "an extra night is too expensive" and "that's not covered by our insurance."

His parents hadn't seen him when he'd originally been brought to the hospital, so Xander didn't think they really comprehended how serious his condition had been. One night of bed rest isn't enough to cure someone who had his throat ripped out and three-fourths of his blood drained from his body. Xander wished the doctors could give him a reasonable explanation for his recovery, but after living on the Hellmouth for so long, he knew the answers wouldn't be found in any medical textbook.

He scratched his chest while he worried about his current situation.

Xander crawled out of bed and walked to the window. The sunlight shining through the glass didn't burn him, and he had a pulse, so he knew Angelus hadn't somehow turned him into a vampire. Thank God for that. Xander would rather have died than become a soulless killer.

"Ahem."

"Giles!" Xander whirled around and tugged self-consciously at his short hospital gown. "Uh, what I wouldn't give for a pair of Snoopy pajamas right now!"

He crept back to the bed, keeping his backside carefully to the wall, and slipped below the covers while Giles pretended to be interested in Xander's balloon bouquet.

Giles sat down in the chair next to the bed. "I spoke to your parents and the doctor, and they said I could see you. They filled me in on your medical status, but tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Fine." A beat. "Well, about as fine as anyone is going to feel after being attacked by a 241-year-old bloodthirsty sociopath. I'm not loving the back draft from this little dress they make me wear, either, but once you get past all that stuff, I guess I'm good. Uh, did you see the girls or Oz out there?"

"Buffy insisted on staying outside to protect you, but I sent the others back to school. I-I hope you don't mind, Xander, but I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Uh oh. If what you have to say to me has anything to do with me becoming a flesh-eating zombie, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to be an extra in the next George Romero movie..."

"No, don't worry, you're not a zombie," interrupted Giles gently. Usually thechercher was annoyed by Xander's sense of humor, but now he was going out of his way to be patient and kind with the boy. "Zombies are reanimated corpses, and you didn't die. That's the part I don't understand. You should be dead."

Realizing that sounded callous, Giles tried to cover his blunder. "Er, not that we aren't all completely relieved that you're still with us, Xander. What happened to you was terrible. If you're not up to talking about your experience yet, I'll understand, but I think we need to explore whether there are supernatural forces at work here. I'm...concerned about you. I want to understand what's going on."

"You and me both," Xander agreed. "I've been trying to piece together what happened yesterday. I have little flashes where I can almost remember stuff, but it's like my brain turned into an Etch-a-Sketch...all shook up and totally blank. The whole not-dying thing has me really stumped, too. But not as much as this." Xander unfastened his gown, and revealed the tattoo.

"Good lord!" Giles gaped at the large, red "A" someone had scraped into Xander's chest, a barbaric reminder of the assault he had endured. There was an awkward pause while Giles tried to compose himself. "I-I'm sorry Xander. I had no idea..."

"What is it? Please, look at it and tell me what it means," begged Xander. "The doctors are all spooked about me being Mr. Speedy Recovery guy, so give it to me straight. Do you think this thing is some kind of magical mojo that kisses my boo-boos and makes them better, or should I be filling out an application for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?"

Giles' leaned in to examine the mark. "I don't know...hmmm, curious. The technique used to pigment your skin is very unusual. The design is crude, but the clarity and color of the tattoo are extraordinary. I wonder...does the A stand for Angelus?"

"Ya think?" Xander laughed bitterly. "Gee, thanks for coming by, Fountain of Knowledge. I don't think I could've figured that part out without you. I thought maybe Dead Boy got inspired after reading Nathaniel Hawthorne and decided to give me my very own scarlet letter."

Giles was somber when he glanced up at Xander. "That isn't funny."

"Cut me some slack. Inappropriate humor is my defense mechanism of choice. Besides, you should be proud that even though I don't know what happened yesterday, I actually remembered something from English class." Xander softened, the sarcasm leaving his voice. "I-I'm sorry for jumping down your throat. All of a sudden my life has turned into "Unsolved Mysteries," and I'm having a problem dealing."

"That's understandable. Survivors of vampire attacks are usually extremely traumatized by the experience, and memory loss is very common. It explains why so many victims haven't reported their assaults to the authorities. What that unholy bastard to to you...it's reprehensible. We will stop him, Xander. I give you my word."

They shared a look, both of them understanding the gravity of Xander's situation. Angelus was a dangerous foe. He was calculating, deliberate, and his actions usually had deadly consequences. The strange mark could very well be part of a spell or a curse designed to destroy him. Giles examined the tattoo again, and without thinking, he brushed his fingers against the angry red lines.

When Giles touched him, Xander had a brief flash of an unpleasant memory, of Angelus holding him down, whispering in his ear. He shuddered as he remembered how the vampire's cruel hands and his own suffocating terror had immobilized him.

/"With this mark, your blood becomes mine."/

Then the feeling was gone. He gulped, and shifted away from Giles. Suddenly the older man's close proximity made him very uncomfortable. He trusted Giles, but when he'd touched Xander's chest, it released something. Something Xander didn't think he was ready to remember yet. Something he may never be willing to remember.

"Does it...does it hurt?" Giles asked. He sensed Xander's unease, and put some distance between himself and the bed. He lowered his eyes apologetically, and cleaned his glasses even though they were already spotless.

"No, but it kinda itches." He fumbled with the Velcro fasteners on his gown. "The doctor said that was normal. Call me crazy, but I don't think there's anything normal about a vampire trying to carve his freaking name on my chest. Sheesh, don't any of your dusty Watcher books have information about this kind of thing?"

"Well," Giles stalled, reluctant to reveal what he knew. "Well, er...tattoos are used symbolically in some rituals to denote...ahem...ownership or a common bond...a brand, if you will."

"A brand? So that means I'm like Angel's cow?" Xander's face wrinkled indignantly. "He branme lme like I'm supposed to be his freaking livestock? I'm so going to kill him!" He brushed the flower bouquet off the bedside table, and the glass vase shattered on the ground. The balloons floated off into the corner.

/Cow. Meat. Food. I'm food to him. He's tasted me once. What if he likes how I taste? Is he going to come back for me again? Is he going to kill me next time? I couldn't protect myself before...how can I ever be safe from him again?/

Xander turned on his side, not wanting the other man to see how afraid he was. Giles tried to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, but the young man didn't want to be touched by anyone at the moment.

"I want it off, Giles. Please, go read your books, and find some way to get rid of it. I can't handle having Angel's brand on me, like I'm some kind of farm animal he's fattening up for slaughter."

"We don't know that for sure. That's just one possibility. The bra...um, tattoo may just be Angelus' idea of a sick joke, so we'll do some more research. Don't worry. We'll find the answers." Giles picked up the remains of the flowers and the vase, and threw them in the trash while Xander stewed on the bed.

The nice nurse in the peach uniform breezed into the room. "Alexander, good news! The doctors have agreed to release you, so you can go home. Your parents are signing some forms right now, but they'll be here momentarily. They've brought you a change of clothes, so you can get dressed whenever you're ready." Xander thanked her as she placed a brown paper bag on the foot of his bed, and then she left.

"Well, I guess I'd better be off. I'll go straight to the library and begin our research." Giles stood up to leave. "Buffy is waiting outside, and she'll make sure you arrive home safely. Xander...if you do start to remember anything...and you need to talk to someone about it, don't hesitate to call me. Day or night, I mean it."

"Thanks, man. Hey, can you do me a favor?" Xander asked.

"Anything."

"Keep this -" he waved his hand over his chest "- between us for now, okay? I don't want anyone else to worry."

Giles started to shake his head, ready to tell him that wasn't a good idea, but stopped. Xander may have grown somewhat accustomed to witnessing acts of violence in the past year, but this was his own personal trauma. Angelus had assaulted and permanently maimed him. If he wanted privacy to work out his feelings, Giles would give it to him. After all, he was no stranger to the type of mental cruelty the vampire was capable of inflicting. "I'll do as you ask, for now. But..."

"...but if there is any chance that this is some sort of sinister plot that puts all of us in danger, we'll tell them. I know. I don't want to keep the Scoobs in the dark. I just...this is scary, bizarre stuff for me. Embarrassing, you know? We can talk about the biting part, but the tattoo is taboo. Got it?"

Giles nodded. "Take care, Xander. I'll see you soon."

When his friend had left and he was alone in the room, the tattoo nagged at him. He rubbed at it anxiously, wishing that he could scrub it off like an ink stamp and make everything go away.

===== CONTINUED IN PART 3 =====