As part of my training to become a Watcher, I'd been taught to deal with a Slayer. The majority of which teachings went out the window when I met Buffy - who was the exact opposite of what I had been told a Slayer would be.

And any clue I may have had on how to help someone her age went even further after meeting Xander.

I had no real way of bonding with him, no way of offering the solace, guidance, and support that I could tell he so desperately needed at times. I knew how I had grown up, but my adolescent years were much different than his, so any attempts that I might have made to connect with him would have failed miserably if I had even ventured to try. I fumbled my way through the first few months with all of them, before we forged a common ground.

Over the years, I slowly found ways to connect with him and to let him know, even if not outright, that he did have someone who cared for him to whom he could go for anything. I never thought of myself as a parental stand-in for any of them and never fashioned myself as such.

Not that I had any "improper" inclinations towards him. At least not at first - that came years later and very slowly. And not that I ever acted on them. I wasn't horrified by what I felt. I had been intimate with Ethan for most of our relationship, as well as having experiences with other men, as well as women, since then. It was just that my situation paralleled the classic one that so many others have experienced of falling for someone of the same sex who, from all outward appearances, was straight and would never change.

At least not until that night.

We had arrived in Cleveland a few weeks prior and had holed up in a hotel while we regrouped before eventually moving into some apartments and setting up shop. The four of us men shared an apartment and originally Robin and I had roomed together as had Xander and Andrew. The arrangement appeared to work well in theory, but in reality, it didn't. I had become so accustomed to spending large amounts of time around Xander, Willow, and Buffy, that when our time together was drastically reduced, I felt somewhat lost.

And from what it seemed, Xander and Andrew's arrangement wasn't working very well either. They got along just fine, but it seemed as though neither was sleeping very well, for reasons I didn't know at first. Robin seemed to be the only one of the four of us who was unaffected. So one day, I pulled the other three men aside and suggested that we swap arrangements - Xander and I together and Robin and Andrew together. I felt that if I was able to spend time with at least one of our original group, I would be all right again and I also hoped that by breaking up Andrew and Xander, it would solve whatever problems they were having.

The first night that Xander and I spent together, it became apparent why neither he nor Andrew seemed to be getting any sleep - Xander was having nightmares. I lay in my own bed for a few moments hoping that Xander would come out of it on his own, as well as to try and find out what he was dreaming about.

The latter was easy to determine - it seemed as though everything from Caleb poking out his eye through the end of the battle and seeing Sunnydale collapse had mixed itself up in his mind and was tormenting him. The former part wasn't so easy, as Xander seemed to be trapped in the dream, as is usually common with nightmares.

I slipped out of my bed and perched on the edge of his. I paused for a second before I gently shook his shoulder. "Xander," I whispered. "Xander, wake up."

Xander stilled and stopped talking for a second before opening his eyes. He looked at me with a confused and unfocused expression for a moment before sleepily asking, "What's going on?" as he wiped some errant tears from his eyes.

"You were having a nightmare," I replied gently.

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's quite all right. A lot's happened recently, so it's almost to be expected. If you ever want to talk, I'm here." He nodded silently and I gave him a warm smile as I gently squeezed his shoulder. "Hopefully the dream has vanished and you'll be able to sleep now," I said as I went back to bed.

It hadn't and he didn't.

The dreams seemed to be almost continuous and recurrent from the time he went to sleep until the time he awoke. He seemed to get only an hour or two's sleep at a time before the dreams would be bad enough that he would awaken with a start. I was able to become accustommed to them enough that I could sleep through the night, but slept much lighter than I had previously.

During the day, I would try to get him to talk about the nightmares and what was bothering him, but he would brush it off and change the subject. He also became increasingly pensive and withdrawn and would snap at practically everyone. Once I explained to the others that he was having nightmares and therefore not sleeping well, they gave him more leeway.

After a while I began to secretly research the problem to see if there might be a mystical cause for what was happening, but nothing seemed to fit properly. I finally began to seriously consider that it may be a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, since he was the only one who didn't seem to be adjusting to the new life we had started to make for ourselves in Cleveland.

As he continued to isolate himself, I continued to reach out to him, hoping to find our connection once again. I asked his opinion on different things, I invited him along on group outings to different events as well as to things where it would be just the two of us, but it all seemed to no avail.

One night, after dealing (or not dealing as the case may be) with the nightmares for a few weeks, things changed. Radically. I was wakened by a shriek no more than two hours after we had gone to bed. I quickly switched on the light and put on my glasses at the same time. When I looked over, Xander was cowering against his headboard, eye staring unfocused at something in front of him. He was visibly shaking, breathing hard, and his mouth was moving, like he was trying to say something, but no sound was coming out.

I got out of bed and sat on the edge of Xander's, facing him. I gently placed a hand on his knee and with the slighted bit of pressure, shook it. "Xander," I said, "wake up."

His gaze focused on me and he blinked a few times. Then, before I knew what had happened, he threw himself at me and hugged me tight. I tentatively hugged him back and gently rubbed his back.

"Care to talk about it?" I asked.

"No," was the quick reply.

"Okay." I quietly held him as I heard his breathing slow and his body stop shaking. Once he was back to normal, I said, "It'll be all right, just give it time," and kissed the top of his head.

He tensed for a split-second before relaxing again and slowly pulling away. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I think so." I gave Xander a small smile and went back to my own bed. After I turned off the light and we both got settled, he asked, "Did they train you to do stuff with dreams?"

"How do you mean?" I replied.

"Like, how to analyze them and stuff? I know something had to come up because of succubi and whatnot."

"Ah. Only in a rudimentary sense. But I know that there are a plethora of avenues available if you wish to study your nightmares and perhaps get to the bottom of what's causing them. I could show you tomorrow, if you wish."

"That would be great. G'night, Giles."

"Good night, Xander." I heard him turn over and soon his breathing was light and regular.

After we settled into bed the next night, Xander said, "Thanks for the material you gave me today."

"Did they help any?" I replied, as I laced my fingers together and put my hands between my head and my pillow, and stared in the darkness towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, in a vague 'how does this apply to me?' sort of way. I have some ideas, but most of them seem a little too out there."

"How so? Do they seem to be too normal?" I asked, half-teasing.

"One or two," he replied. "But the other ones...," he sighed, "if one of *them* is true, I'm not sure how much I like it."

"Sometimes the simplest answer, no matter how far-fetched, is the right one." I turned my head to look in his direction and could barely make out his form. "And these other ones, what's so unlikable about them?"

"They would mean some things are true that I don't want to be," I heard him whisper, not sure if he had wanted me to hear. Before I could decide whether or not to pursue it, he changed the subject. "Have you ever had recurring nightmares?"

"Twice. Both times after dealing with Eeygon."

"Were they just bad memories and the fear of it happening again, or was other stuff mixed in with them as well?"

"The latter," I replied.

"How did you deal with them?"

"I had support. I let those around me help me in their own way. And, in time, they went away." I hoped that my telling him this might help him to open up - whether to me or one of the others.

"How long did it take?"

"The first time, it took a few months. The second - a week or so, but I also had better support." There was a comfortable pause in the conversation and I was beginning to wonder if he had fallen asleep, before I ventured to ask, "Do you want to talk about the dreams? We don't need to discuss what you think the meaning of them is unless you want to, but it might help in making them seem less frightening."

He sighed. "Not really. It's just a number of different memories all mixed together - stuff with Caleb, the battle, the town collapsing." He took a shaky breath. "But it also has other stuff mixed in with it - like when Willow tried to destroy the world with magic, or Buffy jumped off the tower to close the portal, or of you leaving after Buffy died." His breath hitched slightly. "So it gets all convoluted and I think that Buffy ends up dying to save the world after Willow's spell to make the new Slayers goes wrong and you leave because you don't think that there's anything here worth staying for and I'm left all alone." There was a pause and a couple of ragged breaths as I waited for him to continue. "But that's pretty mundane nightmare stuff, right?" he finally asked shakily.

"Well, yes," I replied slowly. "But it's important to you, so it still matters." I wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how he would react and didn't want to upset him further. Especially since the errant kiss still hung between us. "And you know that none of us will ever leave you."

"But how can you say that? You already did it once."

I sighed. "I was being a stupid git. I thought that it would be better for all of us if I went back to England and I didn't realize ..." I paused before whispering, figuring that if he didn't hear me he could fill in his own words, "how much I still needed all of you." I considered my next words. "But I promise I won't do it again. I'll have to be dragged away. Or possibly take you all with me." I kept my tone light, hoping to not distress him any further.

There was a short pause before he asked, "Do you think it's possible for someone to be able to deny a part of themselves for so long that it manifests itself in their dreams?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

I thought he had fallen asleep before I heard him say, "Good night, Giles," and turn over.

The following night, I was curious to see what our topic of discussion would be. Since we had started these night-time chats two nights prior, Xander's sleep seemed to be more settled. He still had the nightmares, but they were less intense and somewhat less frequent. He also seemed to sleep better between them.

It hurt me to see him in a constant state of pain and I wished that there was something I could do to help him. When Xander wasn't forthcoming on a topic, I asked, "How is the research coming?"

"Pretty good. I think I might be getting closer to figuring out what they mean."

"That's good," I replied. I hesitated slightly before continuing, "If you want, tell me the nightmares in more detail and hopefully I can give you pointers about which texts might be the best to look in."

"I don't know..." he trailed off.

"Xander," I replied somewhat exasperated, "I understand that you're uncomfortable with the nightmares, but burying them inside and not letting others help you isn't going to help any in the long run. You should know this by now."

He sighed before continuing and I could only guess what was going through his mind. He began talking quietly, "It starts off with Caleb poking out my eye and it hurts as much as it originally did. But instead of going to the hospital, we immmediatly start fighting the Turok-Han. But we're all in the basement except for Willow, who's doing the spell. Something goes wrong with the spell and instead of making all the potentials into real Slayers, it kills the potentials and Willow. Buffy finds a way to stop the Turok-Han and dies while saving the world, again. Then the building starts to collapse and we all rush to get out, but you and I are the only ones who actually make it. The others die either because of falling debris or errant vamps."

Xander took a shaky breath and I wished that I could cross over and comfort him, but I stayed where I was, not wanting to break the moment. "We get out of town just before it collapses and hole up in a hotel a few miles down the road to catch our breaths. I fall asleep and when I wake up, you're gone."

I heard him try to cover some quiet sniffles and I couldn't take it any more. I got out of bed and went to him. I perched on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his shoulder. Instantly, he was in my arms and I held him tight. It felt like he was holding on to me for dear life. "I'll never leave you," I whispered into his hair. "I promise."

After a couple minutes, he eased up a bit, but didn't move very far. "Do you think someone could have a rebound relationship that was actually meaningful and lasting?" he suddenly asked.

"I do," I replied. "I don't think it happens very often, but I'm sure it does at least some of the time. Why?" I had to keep my mind focused on what Xander was saying, because it was startlingly easy to become distracted by the feeling of having him in my arms - which seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

"Just wondering."

"There's nothing that says you have to enter into a new relationship right after exiting an old one, Xander," I replied, trying to comfort him. "I know that you and Anya hadn't been together officially for a while near the end, but you still cared for her deeply and that's going to take some time to get over."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you miss her?"

"Anya? Yes, I do. She had a very endearing way about her, even if she was exasperating at times. She was definitely one in a million, but I don't think she would want you to put moving on with your life on hold because you miss her. I think she would want you to grieve and move on." I idly wondered how the conversation had morphed into what it now was, but I hoped that by discussing these things, it would help Xander to heal.

"I think Jenny would want you to do that as well."

I was surprised when he said that, and did my best to not let it show. "And what makes you say that?" I replied softly.

"Just because you don't seem to be moving on either. I know the Hellmouth hasn't helped with any of our love lives, but aside from Olivia and that one time with Mrs. Summers, you don't seem to be moving on. And I think she'd want that."

"I'm sure she would as well, Xander. But lack of a visible sex or love life doesn't mean that either a) I haven't moved on or b) I'm not having one at all. And why are we discussing this, anyway?"

"I don't know, really." Xander sat up. "I feel better, thank you."

I nodded, even though I was almost positive he couldn't see it and reluctantly went back to my bed. "Good night, Xander."

"G'night, Giles."

The next day Xander had seemed thoughtful, but not exactly pensive, and his general mood seemed to be brighter. I hoped that something that had been said the night before had penetrated and he was taking it to heart. I discreetly watched him as he jotted down some notes on the dreams and laughed at a joke that Andrew made. It brought a smile to my face and my heart that he appeared to be returning to his old self.

And even if I would never be able to pursue him myself, I could be content in knowing that he was happy.

After we had settled in that night, Xander asked, "Do you think it's possible to work with someone for a long time and then suddenly realize that you have feelings for them?"

"Absolutely," I replied, wondering where he was going with it. "Legions of books, movies, television shows, and songs can't be completely wrong."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

"Once or twice, but nothing ever came of it."

"Why not? I'm sure they would have loved you."

I sighed inwardly. Leave it to Xander to run with something like this. "I don't know, really. It either wasn't the right time or I guess I was just too shy and couldn't bear to be rebuffed because it was someone that I cared for deeply."

"If you could do things differently, do you think you would?"

"Possibly." I decided to turn the tables. "What about you?"

"Well, I did with Willow once and you know how that turned out. But there is someone else..." He trailed off as if he wasn't sure how to say what he wanted or if he even should.

"I'm sure that either Buffy or Willow would be happy with you, Xander," I commented. I was still skeptical that Willow was completely gay, even with all of her protestations that she was.

"What if it's not one of them that I'm talking about?" he asked, a slight tremor in his voice.

Don't hope, don't hope, don't hope. Just because there isn't really any other viable option that fits the description, it doesn't mean anything. "Well, then who *are* you talking about?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice as neutral and normal as possible.

I heard him get out of bed and then my bed dipped a bit as he sat down. "You."

"Me?" I asked, a bit of disbelief tinging my voice. Was this truly happening?

"Yes, you."

"Wh-wha-what do you mean, me?"

"Just what I mean - you."

I was trying to wrap my head around this concept. I had been wanting this for so long that it seemed very surreal that it was actually happening. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I, really. I just know that during the nightmares, your leaving always hurt the most." He paused and as he took a shaky breath, he put a hand on my shoulder and I covered his hand with my own. "And I didn't want to admit it, but after you pushed me the other day, I did some heavy thinking. And while I'm sure I still like girls, I know it's you I really want."

While I was willing to admit that this was something that I definitely wanted, I wasn't sure if this was the best time, place, or way to be going about it. I sat up and took Xander's hand between both of mine. "I'm not certain this -"

He quickly cut me off. "Just let me know right now if I even have the slightest chance. Because if I don't and you're only being nice about it, you can stop."

"Oh, you definitely do, Xander. I just don't want either of us rushing into anything."

"I'm not asking for sex or anything, just a chance."

"A chance at what, though?" I asked confused.

"To help you out as much as you've helped me. You don't know how much you've meant to me over the past few years and I want to repay you by being there for you."

"I don't -"

He silenced me by putting a finger against my lips. "Let's worry about semantics later, shall we?"

He moved his free hand and cupped my cheek, before leaning in to kiss me. I was about to pull away and protest, but the rational part of my brain shut down rather quickly when I felt his lips on mine and I began to kiss him back. I had wanted this for so long, what good would it do to refuse it now, especially when I may wake up in the morning and find that it was all a dream?

The kiss was soft and tentative, and over all too soon. Xander's hand fell away from my face, but he didn't otherwise move.

"Care to join me?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't scare him away.

"Sure, why not?" he replied.

He stood and I moved so he could join me under the covers. We carefully situated ourselves so that we wouldn't fall out of the tiny bed, but it was still comfortable. I kissed Xander again on the lips and then on the forehead. Then we lay there in comfortable silence. Soon I heard Xander's breathing slow and even out, telling me that he had fallen asleep. I soon followed suit, a happy smile on my face.

That night, there were no nightmares.