Ethan slipped very slowly into consciousness as if floating on gentle waves into shore. Soft warm sheets surrounded him, and he felt very comfortable. He rolled over to snuggle close to Rupert, but found instead his face full of fur. A rough tongue licked his neck.

"Hello, sweetheart," he murmured into Skunk's flank. "What have you done with the man of the house?"

"Ethan?" The hopeful voice from elsewhere in the room was familiar and welcome if not the one he wanted to hear the most. "Are you awake?"

"Approaching it." Then he worked out to whom the voice belonged and sat up abruptly. "Dawn!" He stared at her. "Are you...?"

"Alive? Whole? Human?" she finished for him with a smile. "All of the above." She suddenly moved forward and hugged him tightly. "Thanks to you."

Ethan held her equally tightly; she certainly felt alive and real in his arms. He tried to reach out with his pattern senses just to check that was true, but this proved to be a mistake as his world immediately decided to make an admirable attempt at becoming a spinning top. He fell back against the headboard, clasping his hand over his eyes. "Bugger."

"You might want to give the magic a break for a while," Dawn intuited, or perhaps she could sense it having shared a body with him for a while. He'd ask her as soon as his head cleared. "You used up pretty much everything you had with what you did for me," she said. "Even breathing was pretty touch and go for a while. Yours, I mean. Giles was in a total panic."

Ethan looked hazily at her from over the top of his hand. "But you're all right?"

"I am. Really."

His thoughts were coming slowly, one thing at a time. He looked around the room. Ah, he was home, back at Mountbatten. Oh, that felt good. He wanted Rupert though and wasn't sure if he dared reach out to him after what had just happened when he'd tried to look at Dawn. "And everyone else is all right? Rupert?"

"Giles is fine," Dawn was quick to assure him. "He's downstairs doing Head Watcher stuff. He's going to be so relieved that you're awake." She jumped up. "I should go get him for you," she said, heading for the door.

"Dawn..." Ethan's head was still spinning a little, but he knew there was something wrong. Something he'd forgotten to do maybe or... oh God. "Ian."

Dawn stopped in the doorway, turning back to Ethan with a sad, sympathetic expression. "Ian didn't make it."

"He..." It was all coming back to him now: the maze, the battles, the knowledge of Ian's death smashing into him. "He helped me save you. Without him, we'd both be dead."

"He was always nice to me. I liked him." Dawn came back over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I wouldn't have asked him to trade his life for mine. Been down that road before, and it's hard being the one left behind."

"He's... he's where he wants to be." Christ, Ethan wished he could feel certain about that. He patted Dawn's leg. "It wasn't an exchange. It wasn't like that at all. He died before we even used you. Er, the Key, that is. But he... er, hung around. Helped me reform your body. At least, I think he did. I could have been hallucinating, I suppose." He gave her a weak smile.

Dawn took his hand and returned his smile a bit shakily. "I'd like to think you weren't hallucinating. So let's believe that, okay?"

"It felt real to me." He squeezed her hand. "Dawn, would you mind opening the door? I can send Skunk for Rupert. I'd call him, but..." The need to see him, to touch him was becoming pressing.

Dawn leapt to her feet again. "Right. I can go get him–"

"Stay?" Ethan said quickly. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts, and wonderful through Skunk was, her conversation lacked something. "Please? I... er. I guess I've grown used to having you around." He tried for a jaunty wink, and it earned him a quick smile. Dawn continued across the room to open the door, but then came back and sat beside him again. "Fetch Rupert, sweetheart?" Ethan told his dog. "Hurry girl!" As she scampered from the room, Ethan smiled at Dawn.

"Y'know," she began thoughtfully, "in a weird way you're like my father now. Bringing me into the world and all that."

He snorted quietly. "I certainly prefer 'father' to 'mother'. There was, uh, a certain amount of jibing whilst I was carrying your pattern." He reached out and allowed a lock of her hair to fall through his fingers. "I know your pattern so well now. Almost as well as my own."

"What's it like?" Dawn asked curiously. "My pattern."

"Perfectly symmetrical as befits the Key. Have you noticed anything different since you came back?"

"As a matter of fact..." Dawn rolled up her sleeve of her right arm. "I used to have a scar here," she said, tracing a line along her forearm. "It's gone now."

"Oops. My mistake." Ethan grinned sheepishly. "I never considered scars. Do you mind?"

She shook her head, rolling her sleeve down again. "None of my scars were reminders of really good moments. Having them gone, it's like a physical fresh start."

"Did you have any tattoos or piercings?" As they would be gone too, of course.

"Only my ears. They can be re-done, I'm sure."

"Good," Ethan smiled fondly. "You've lost your highlights too, but I'm sure that can be fixed even more easily. I'll pay for hair and ears, all right?" He could hear footsteps running up the stairs. While all his non-physical senses seemed muted so he couldn't be sure, he dearly hoped it was Rupert. He looked eagerly towards the door.

Sure enough, a second later Rupert appeared in the doorway, looking tired, worried and frantic... until he caught sight of Ethan sitting up against the headboard. Then the most wonderful look of relief crossed his face, and he closed his eyes briefly, muttering something under his breath. A heartbeat later, he was across the room and settling on the bed in the spot that Dawn thoughtfully vacated. He reached out and pulled Ethan into his arms, holding onto him tightly.

Oh yes, this was what he wanted. Ethan closed his eyes and let himself near enough melt against Rupert. "Mmm, needed you. Where were you?"

"Downstairs. On the phone. I had to... It doesn't matter. It can wait." If anything, Rupert's grip on him tightened as if he was afraid Ethan would slip away if he didn't. "You scared the hell out of me."

He must have been out a good few hours to cause this reaction, which would explain why he felt so bloody hungry actually. As he felt Skunk jump up and settle down on the other side of him again and heard Dawn quietly leaving the room, Ethan soothed Rupert's hair with his hands and kissed the side of his head. "I'm sorry, dearheart. Used a little bit too much magic, but for a good cause, no?"

Rupert gave a laugh that had very little humour in it. "I'd say it was a great deal more than a little bit too much. You drained yourself of so much magic and life energy that you were practically translucent."

Oh... but that couldn't be the case. "Come now, you're exaggerating, surely. I feel a little dizzy, for sure, but nothing like how awful I'd feel if what you're saying were true."

"If anything, I'm underestimating your condition. You've been unconscious for three days, Ethan. We've had to give you several lifeforce transfusions. You've had donations from no less than five different people, not including me." Rupert pulled back just enough to meet Ethan's eyes, the truth clear in the green depths of his own. "I was afraid I'd lost you."

Oh. Oh bugger. Ethan looked down, trying to take that in, but... "I... sorry."

Rupert pulled Ethan tight against him again, sending an almost excruciating trickle of magic along Ethan's skin. The fact that so light a touch felt so overwhelming was more proof of what Rupert had just told him.

He moved restlessly within the tight embrace, not for a moment wanting it to stop, just unable to stay still while trying to understand what he'd been told. "Three days? Really? What's been happening? Why am I not dead of thirst?"

"You would drink if water was given to you. That's how I knew you were truly out of it; you're never that pliable when you're awake. We all took it in turns to look after you. I would have done it myself the entire time, but it was pointed out rather forcefully that I wouldn't do you or anyone else any good if I worked myself into the same state you were in. It's rather embarrassing when your Slayers gang up on you and threaten to bodily remove you and make you rest."

There was something about the tightness of Rupert's voice that was provoking unpleasant angsty feelings inside Ethan. "My poor Rupert." Ethan wished he had some reassuring magic to feed him. "I remember waiting for you to come round in the hospital, and that was only, well, less than forty-eight hours. I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinking beyond... Well, I had to bring her back for you. I'd promised, and our fight with the bear had ballsed up my protections around her cache–"

Rupert shook his head, cutting him off. "What you did was a very brave and selfless thing. And it worked, Ethan. You did the impossible. You brought Dawn back. That isn't something for which you should apologise."

"Ian..." Ethan stopped and then started again with more certainty in his voice. "Ian helped. Quite vitally."

Rupert was silent for a moment then offered, "That doesn't surprise me."

"When..." He had to ask this, but he pressed his face into the crook of Rupert's neck first in a way that he realised was cowardly. "When we returned, was there... a body?"

"No." One of Rupert's hands came up to stroke Ethan's hair.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. Ian was..."

"My friend. Our friend. And my mentor and our lover. And a bloody hero." And Ethan wouldn't even have a place to go to talk to him, it seemed.

"He was." Rupert dropped a kiss on Ethan's head, his rough stubble scraping Ethan's skin. "All of those things. We can have some sort of memorial service if you wish, perhaps at the cliffs at Devon. Maybe erect some kind of marker."

Ethan nodded, but he didn't really want to talk more about that now. Couldn't really. "How is everyone else? What's been happening? Did we win?"

"That round at least, yes. All of the Chaos hotspots infecting the English countryside have vanished. But..."

The Chaos was gone, but there was a 'but'. Ethan wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Can't I wallow in success for even a few moments?"

"Of course," Rupert said, and Ethan could hear the smile in his voice.

"We did Good, didn't we? Capital 'G' good?" Ethan nuzzled against Rupert hungrily. He wished that Rupert wasn't fully dressed and that he himself didn't have on whatever these unlovely pyjama things were that they seemed to have put him in. "Tell me we saved the world."

"At the very least we saved England." Rupert turned his head and caught Ethan's lips in a long kiss.

Rupert tasted so very good, and while it was frustrating not being able to share magic, it mattered little compared to the sheer physical comfort of being held and loved. A sense of relief was beginning to settle over Ethan. They had done it, their terrible task. Their destiny was completed, and they were free... ah, he was forgetting that 'but', wasn't he?

Frowning, Ethan pulled back. "You better tell me, before I get too contented." Which was a silly word, considering the sense of loss that was hovering, waiting to consume him, but still.

Rupert sighed, but then said, "I received a call from Francesca, taunting and challenging. Only it wasn't quite her."

"What does that mean?" Rupert was looking somewhat haggard, Ethan noticed with a frown. There were dark shadows around his eyes and the unshaven look had always given his Ripper a wild appearance.

"It seems she's been... possessed in a way."

"By wha– oh. Vaurtain. We didn't kill him, did we? Oh bugger." It wasn't over. It would never bloody be over.

"Yes, that sums up my feelings on the subject fairly well," Rupert said wryly.

"We had to free him, didn't we? I mean, he was holding the door open..."

"Yes. Ideally, we should have pushed him back through, but he seemed quite determined not to allow us that chance."

Ethan sighed unhappily. "Rupert, I couldn't fight a crippled gnat currently."

Rupert kissed him again. "You don't need to. We need to find the enemy before we can fight it."

"I see, but all the Chaos blackspots have cleared?"

"Yes. They started dispersing as soon as the portal was closed." Rupert paused. "Which reminds me, there's something else I have to tell you. The cloaked person who came out of the portal? The one who closed it?"

Ethan frowned; his memories of the whole fight were quite sketchy. "He gave me the Key back... I think."

"She," Rupert corrected. "She introduced herself to me as Molly Lovall."

Ethan's frown deepened. "But that's–" He pulled back and stared searchingly at Rupert. "It can't... Dearheart, tell me before I embarrass myself by believing something impossible."

"I never had the pleasure of meeting your grandmother before, so I can't be one hundred percent certain, but," Rupert smiled at him, "her eyes are just like yours." Ethan continued to stare at Rupert, his mind an open wilderness of nothing very much. "Love?" Rupert asked after a moment, touching Ethan's face gently. "Still with me?"

"It's not possible." He moved forward and clung to Rupert. "It's not possible. It's a trick."

"If it is, it's one I haven't been able to see through." Rupert rubbed his back soothingly. It was too much; Ethan shook his head against Rupert's shoulder and said nothing. "Would you like me to bring her here?"

Ethan shook his head more emphatically. He didn't want to see the woman claiming to be Nan. Whatever had happened to her, wherever they'd taken her, she'd be long dead by now.

Rupert smoothed his hand over Ethan's hair and generally did everything he could to be a comforting presence for Ethan. "It's a lot to deal with, especially when you must still be quite drained."

"I'm hungry," Ethan said, because he was, for food and Rupert, but also because it was a change of subject.

Rupert went with it easily, giving him a small smile and asking, "What would you like to eat?"

Ethan managed a smile back. "Lots, but I don't want you to leave. Maybe I could get up?"

That got him an even larger, more genuine smile. "If you feel strong enough. Or," Rupert's eyes sparkled with humour, "I could always revert to carrying you down."

Ethan smiled more fully. "I think we need your backbone in full working order. Er, who's here?" He wanted to make sure he wasn't about to meet strange impostor women.

"At the moment? Just us, Dawn, and the dogs."

Good. Ethan slipped his legs out from under the covers and tested their strength on the floor. He was a little shaky maybe, but not too bad. "I feel remarkably well considering what you told me happened. Slayer lifeforce?"

"Among others." Rupert put a hand on Ethan's arm to steady him. "I believe the final count was three Slayers, a mage, a Key and a one-eyed man."

"Walked into a bar?" Ethan chuckled then paused. "Three Slayers? Who was the third?"

Rupert smiled slightly. "Buffy."

"Buffy?" Ethan gaped at Rupert. "And I was so convinced she'd want to slaughter me where I stood. Well, lay."

"You almost killed yourself bringing Dawn back," Rupert pointed out. "That kind of thing goes a long way with my Slayer."

Ethan noted the possessive, but didn't comment. He turned and wrapped his arms around Rupert. Six people cared enough about him to donate a little of their life. It was hard to conceive, really.

Rupert's arms came around him in return. "It's good to have you back, love," he sighed, and Ethan thought he could feel some of the tension leaving Rupert's form. It had to have been bloody awful for him.

"My poor, poor Rupert. Just let me get my strength back, and I'll make this up to you. How does a week in bed sound?"

"Decadent," Rupert said, slightly dreamily. "And an excellent substitute for heaven."

Chuckling, Ethan squirmed contentedly against Rupert. It wasn't over, their adventure; he knew that. And he had mourning to do, but not yet. He couldn't afford to feel those feelings yet. This was just a respite, but welcome nonetheless. "Maybe we could start after dinner?"

"I should be able to spare a few hours."

From the busy schedule of looking for Frannie, Ethan assumed. Still a few hours were a lot better than nothing. He grinned and pulled back, taking Rupert's hand. "Come on. I'm positively desperate for food that doesn't look like floorboards."

Rupert chuckled. "There goes my first idea for dinner."

***

Giles watched from the corner of his eye as Ethan fed Skunk titbits from his plate. Despite claims of near starvation, Ethan didn't seem to have eaten very much before he'd reached the listless playing with his food stage.

"Do I have to resort to spoon-feeding to get you to eat?" he teased, gently trying to encourage Ethan's appetite.

Ethan looked up with a start as if he'd been lost in thought. He smiled warmly enough at Giles however. "I ate what my body told me it needed. I don't think there's all that much energy around for digesting food currently. A coffee, on the other hand, could go down a treat."

"Caffeine addict," Giles accused fondly. Still, he obligingly got up and headed into the kitchen to make Ethan his coffee. He doubted there was anything that Ethan could ask for just then that he wouldn't try to obtain for him; not with the last three days of fear and worry still so fresh in his mind.

Dawn was next door currently – the Council had commandeered the whole street during the crisis, which Giles wasn't looking forward to having to discuss with his neighbours once they were allowed to return. He and Ethan were alone in the house with the dogs. If Giles tried, he could almost convince himself that it was a year and a half ago, before Devon, when their biggest problem had been Ethan's Chaos addiction.

Well, and a certain Francesca Travers, who was still, it seemed, a major pain in their collective arses.

"Have we any chocolate biscuits?" came from back out in the living room.

"I thought you weren't hungry?" Giles called back, even as he found an unopened pack in the cupboard and started making up a plate.

"That was for proper food."

Giles moved back to the kitchen doorway to look at Ethan while he waited for the coffee to brew. "I'd swear you have the eating habits of a teenager."

Ethan twisted around in his chair to grin at Giles. "You mean I eat like a Slayer?"

"Not necessarily. Xander's eating habits were truly appalling." Giles thought about it. "Actually, they still are."

"I eat like a Xander? Rupert, what a ghastly thing to say to me. I'm cut to the quick. Really." The sparkle of humour in Ethan's eyes was very gratifying to see.

Struck again by exactly how lucky they were to have escaped the Chaos maze with their lives and minds intact, Giles crossed the room and leant over to kiss Ethan lingeringly. Too close. It had been far too close to not having moments like this ever again.

Ethan's hand curled around the back of Giles' neck, staying there even when Giles pulled back a little way. "I want an early night tonight," Ethan said firmly. Giles nodded. There was still a lot to coordinate and do, but the good guys would just have to carry on without him for one evening. Ethan's expression softened at the nod, and his hand moved around to stroke Giles' face. "You need sleep, dearheart."

"I need you," Giles countered, leaning into Ethan's touch.

"You have me." Giles felt the slightest tingle of Ethan's magic in his cheek, before Ethan winced and his hand dropped.

"Don't do that," Giles admonished without heat. He leant in and kissed Ethan again, pouring a stream of his magic through the touch.

Ethan's eyes were closed when Giles drew back the next time, his mouth slightly open. "Rupert..." he murmured then sighed heavily. "We need a holiday. A very long holiday."

"I won't argue the point." He knew though that it was impossible to take more than an evening at the moment.

"Somewhere tropical and gay-friendly, where we can have long nights of dancing, socialising and sex followed by lazy days of indolence, good food and more sex." Ethan smiled dreamily. He stroked his hand over Giles' arm. "Are you going to sit down?"

"I still have to get your coffee."

"Then will you sit down? I can move to the sofa."

Giles pulled back enough to look at Ethan. "I'm hovering, aren't I?" It wasn't really a question.

"I like you close." Ethan stood, just a little unsteadily, and wrapped his arms around Giles. "I just like you more on a level."

Giles' arms went around Ethan automatically in return, partially to steady Ethan on his feet, partly just because he wanted him close as well. He sighed softly, feeling closer to content than he had since, well, since they'd left here for Buckham Hall.

Ethan leant lightly against Giles, relaxing in his arms. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to move from the embrace, so of course, that was when someone knocked at the door. "I probably should get that," Giles said regretfully, pulling back.

Ethan frowned. "There are only certain people I want to see."

"All the more reason for me to answer. If I don't, I'm fairly certain the door will be broken in, because they're worried about us."

Looking on the verge of sulky, Ethan sat back down, this time on the sofa. "Whoever they are, they're not having my choccy biccies." Feeling another surge of affection for Ethan, Giles dropped a kiss on the top of his head before moving to answer the door.

Buffy and Xander were on the other side. Judging by their worried faces, they hadn't seen Dawn yet and didn't know the day's good news. Xander raised his hand in a salute. "Reporting for transfusion duty, sah!"

Giles smiled, both at Xander's attempt at lightening the mood and at the fact that such transfusions were now no longer necessary. "Actually, there's been a change of plans."

Buffy looked sharply at him. "Ethan is... awake?"

"Ethan is sitting in the living room guarding the chocolate biscuits from all comers."

Xander chuckled. "That's my boy. Or rather my older male friend who is not, in any sense, mine."

Buffy was bouncing up and down on her toes, peering beyond Giles into their short lobby. Guessing that Ethan wouldn't mind these visitors, Giles led the way back into the living room. "We have company," he announced unnecessarily to Ethan.

"So I see." Ethan smiled warmly at their guests, although he didn't get up. "I believe I owe you two a considerable debt."

Buffy waved that away. "The way I see it, we're even. Besides," she smiled slightly, "we Scoobies take care of our own."

That inclusion left Ethan obviously nonplussed, but before Giles could say anything to cover the pause in conversation, Xander said, "It comes with a membership card, but don't get too excited. All the shops it got you a discount in disappeared down a big hole in southern California a while back."

"Nowadays, we just charge everything to the Council," Buffy added, moving to sit on the sofa beside Ethan. "But there's no membership card for that." She looked up at Giles questioningly. "Is there?"

"Uh, no," Giles replied, doing his best to keep a deadpan expression. "I can offer coffee however?"

"Maybe I could help you with that oh so technical task, boss," Xander said, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I could be chief putting-the-cups-on-the-saucers engineer."

Giles gave Ethan a questioning look; he didn't want to leave Ethan alone with Buffy if he wasn't comfortable, not so soon after he had awakened. 'I'm all right,' Ethan said mentally, very faintly. He added aloud, "Just keep American fingers off my biccies."

"I would appreciate the help, Xander, thank you," Giles said, smiling at the younger man before heading towards the kitchen. He managed to look back at Ethan only once.

***

Ethan tried not to feel bereft that Rupert was now a whole twenty feet away from him, even though he was acutely aware of the absence. He turned to smile at Buffy. "Are we really even?"

Buffy nodded, expression serious. "You saved Dawn."

She wouldn't have needed saving if... well, Buffy knew that. No point in saying it. Ethan reached out to pat Buffy's leg, but changed his mind at the last moment as he wasn't sure that you patted the legs of Senior Slayers. So he just said, "Ian helped."

It only seemed to faze Buffy briefly, and she didn't question the statement, merely insisted, "That doesn't make what you did any less."

He tried out several answers in his head before finally saying, "I'm glad she's all right." This conversation felt very awkward, and Ethan wasn't even sure why.

"Thank you." She seemed to feel just as awkward as he did.

"How did you get here?" he asked after a pause. "Not via Heathrow, I assume."

"I've got an ex with a private jet. Talked him into lending it to me. And, you know, a pilot." Buffy paused then offered, "I'm sorry about Ian."

Ethan looked down. "He was rather looking forward to what, who, he believed awaited him after death."

"And you're not sure if he's got what he wanted?" Buffy asked.

"I'd like to think he has," Ethan replied carefully, wondering if he really wanted to talk to Buffy about such things, although thinking about it, she had first hand experience of the afterlife. He looked at her, trying to keep the fierce need to know from his face. "Do you remember what, well..."

"What Heaven was like?" She smiled, her expression bittersweet. "Yes."

"I don't mean to pry, but if you feel able to... talk about it, I'd, well..." He gave Buffy an exasperated smile, acknowledging how difficult this was for both of them.

Buffy didn't answer right away, and when she did, her voice was softer, almost reverent. "It's... perfection. You feel absolute love, absolute acceptance. There's no doubt, or fears, or anything bad. It's... you know those perfect moments of happiness and contentment that you get sometimes? The kind that never last longer than it takes to think it? It's like that, except there it doesn't end. You always feel that way."

Ethan had had a lot of those moments since Rupert had rescued him, but he couldn't quite imagine them lasting continuously. "Didn't you get bored? No longing for variety?"

"Variety from Heaven?" Buffy asked dryly. "No, perfect happiness was working for me. Of course I was only there for three months..."

Ethan would have thought perfection would get boring after a while. Life needed some chiaroscuro to appreciate its finer attributes, but maybe that was the point – Heaven wasn't life, and the same rules didn't apply. "Did you see anyone you knew?"

She shook her head. "It didn't really work like that. I didn't really have normal human senses. But..." Her voice got quiet again. "I felt my mom."

Ethan's thoughts seemed to slip and slide as he tried to decide what that meant for Ian. He found himself wondering instead whom he'd get to 'feel' in that way if he proved redeemed enough to get to Heaven, which was highly debatable even now. Nan, he supposed. He frowned at the knowledge that there was someone here impersonating her, apparently next door in the Opies' house.

He should talk to Rupert about that really, have the impostor questioned and divined. Considering where they'd found her, she was surely up to no good.

Maybe he'd discuss it with Rupert later.