Title: Redemptions (Corny I know, but I can't think of a title yet)
Author: Pikawhore
Disclaimer: Joss owns em. I just play with their minds.
Spoilers: This is a follow-up to my first fic ' We Went Wrong'. So same spoilers as that one.
Feedback: Yes, please
Timeline: Around six months after the events in 'We Went Wrong'. So maybe around Season 7 of the buffyverse.
Bashing: None.yet..(
{} denotes thought
Part 1:
The cold.
The first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of hell is intense heat. Pits of fire and brimstone, searing and charring the flesh of the beings unfortunate enough to be trapped inside them.
However, in reality hell is actually cold.
The cold stems from the feeling of utter loneliness one experiences. The feeling of hopelessness that envelopes a person in hell is more torturous than any fire can even imagine to inflict.
And that feeling of despair was what one Xander Harris was feeling at that very moment.
Xander walked through the barren landscape, his vision limited by the thick cloud of mist that was all around him. The mist seemed to almost consume him, caressing his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. This only added to the feeling of emptiness that had somehow embedded itself in Xander's heart.
Curiously though, Xander was not the least bit scared or anxious by his environment or the emotions he was going through. It was as if Xander knew that he did not belong here, and was only visiting temporarily. Even more strange though, was the fact that his feet had taken a life of their own, dragging the rest of his body along for the ride.
He walked for what seemed like hours, cutting through fog like a hot knife through butter. He did not have any marker or landmark to give him an idea of his current position or where he was heading. He could have been walking in circles for all he knew.
Suddenly, Xander saw it. The figure was maybe a few feet in front of him, curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and fourth rhythmically. She was clad in black, which made her fiery red hair, which was strewn about in a mess, stand out even more than usual.
Xander approached her cautiously. Tentatively, he put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her face seemingly devoid of any emotion. But her eyes conveyed a multitude of emotion.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Fear.
Pain.
Loneliness.
Then the screaming started. All around him, coming from nowhere in particular. The screams conveyed a sense of pain and anguish that Xander could see in the figure's eyes. The screams became louder and louder. Unable to take it anymore, he crumpled to the ground, hands covering his ears in an attempt to block out the sound. The figure stood up and looked down on him, a cold maniacal smile on her face.
Xander woke up with a start. Even though the air conditioning was on full blast in his motel room, he was drenched in sweat. He got up, fumbling around in the darkness as he headed to the bathroom, the moonlight his only guide. Suddenly, he froze. Xander could sense another presence in the room, hear a heartbeat not of his own. He grabbed his barretas which were on the dressing table next to him and turned around, guns at ready, in one smooth movement.
"Whoever you are, I suggest you come out so I can see you before I start making with the 'bang-bang'."
"Whoa there, cowboy. What is it with you 'shoot first, ask questions later' types? I come in peace.", the man answered as he stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing a Hawaiian floral shirt so loud it put a Limp Bizkit concert to shame, and his right hand was contorted to mimic the Vulcan peace sign.
"And I find you so convincing, what with the sneaking into my hotel room and all. Here's a tip, next time you attempt breaking and entering, try wearing something quieter. With a shirt like that, I heard you coming yesterday."
"I'm not here to trade opinions about men's fashions with you, Xander. I'm here to talk about you." Xander's eyes widened as the man mentioned his name. Who the hell is this guy?
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm someone who is knows about your past." The man answered cryptically. "And someone who's very concerned about your future."
"Yeah? And what's it to you?"
"Lets just say that my 'clients' have a vested interest in you making an appearance at the Hellmouth sometime in the very near future."
" I'm not going back there. I have nothing worth going back to anymore."
"Something big is going down there, son. Your friends might be in trouble. You should be there to help them."
"I should be there? I SHOULD be dead! I SHOULD be enjoying the quiet life six feet under right now! And what do my 'friends' need me for? Another donut run? Another shelf needs fixing?"
"But you aren't dead, Xander. And the way I look at it you have three choices. You could take your own life, but you're too honourable for that. You could mope around feeling sorry for yourself, which is what you're doing now. Not fun is it? Or you could be grateful for the second chance you've got, and do something with your life."
The man's speech caused Xander's anger to seethe even further. {This son of a bitch doesn't even know me and he wants to tell me what to do?} "Oh yeah, I am so going to take the advice of a guy who shops in the 'loud obnoxious losers' section of Sears."
"Listen, kid.", the man said, a hint of agitation in his voice. "If you don't want to do it for your friends, that's just fine. But do it for Her. She had faith in you. Don't prove Her wrong. Don't let Her sacrifice be in vein." With that the man started heading for the door. Xander did not stop pointing the barrels of his guns at the man for even a split second. "One more thing kid, about that dream you've been having."
"What?"
" Hell's a bitch, isn't it?" With that, the man walked out of Xander's motel room.
Xander stood there, rooted to the spot for the moment. He furrowed his brow in deep concentration as he replayed the conversation he just had in his head. Finally coming to a decision, Xander reached for the leather pants that were lying on the ground and put them on. He then walked over to his bed and gently shook the figure sleeping peacefully on the other side.
"Wake up, luv."
"What is it kitten? You know mommy doesn't like it when you interrupt her beauty sleep."
"Get dressed, Dru. We're leaving."
"But where are we going?", Drusilla whined. "Mommy likes it here. The people here are so sweet."
"We're going to Sunnydale."
Author: Pikawhore
Disclaimer: Joss owns em. I just play with their minds.
Spoilers: This is a follow-up to my first fic ' We Went Wrong'. So same spoilers as that one.
Feedback: Yes, please
Timeline: Around six months after the events in 'We Went Wrong'. So maybe around Season 7 of the buffyverse.
Bashing: None.yet..(
{} denotes thought
Part 1:
The cold.
The first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of hell is intense heat. Pits of fire and brimstone, searing and charring the flesh of the beings unfortunate enough to be trapped inside them.
However, in reality hell is actually cold.
The cold stems from the feeling of utter loneliness one experiences. The feeling of hopelessness that envelopes a person in hell is more torturous than any fire can even imagine to inflict.
And that feeling of despair was what one Xander Harris was feeling at that very moment.
Xander walked through the barren landscape, his vision limited by the thick cloud of mist that was all around him. The mist seemed to almost consume him, caressing his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. This only added to the feeling of emptiness that had somehow embedded itself in Xander's heart.
Curiously though, Xander was not the least bit scared or anxious by his environment or the emotions he was going through. It was as if Xander knew that he did not belong here, and was only visiting temporarily. Even more strange though, was the fact that his feet had taken a life of their own, dragging the rest of his body along for the ride.
He walked for what seemed like hours, cutting through fog like a hot knife through butter. He did not have any marker or landmark to give him an idea of his current position or where he was heading. He could have been walking in circles for all he knew.
Suddenly, Xander saw it. The figure was maybe a few feet in front of him, curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and fourth rhythmically. She was clad in black, which made her fiery red hair, which was strewn about in a mess, stand out even more than usual.
Xander approached her cautiously. Tentatively, he put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her face seemingly devoid of any emotion. But her eyes conveyed a multitude of emotion.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Fear.
Pain.
Loneliness.
Then the screaming started. All around him, coming from nowhere in particular. The screams conveyed a sense of pain and anguish that Xander could see in the figure's eyes. The screams became louder and louder. Unable to take it anymore, he crumpled to the ground, hands covering his ears in an attempt to block out the sound. The figure stood up and looked down on him, a cold maniacal smile on her face.
Xander woke up with a start. Even though the air conditioning was on full blast in his motel room, he was drenched in sweat. He got up, fumbling around in the darkness as he headed to the bathroom, the moonlight his only guide. Suddenly, he froze. Xander could sense another presence in the room, hear a heartbeat not of his own. He grabbed his barretas which were on the dressing table next to him and turned around, guns at ready, in one smooth movement.
"Whoever you are, I suggest you come out so I can see you before I start making with the 'bang-bang'."
"Whoa there, cowboy. What is it with you 'shoot first, ask questions later' types? I come in peace.", the man answered as he stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing a Hawaiian floral shirt so loud it put a Limp Bizkit concert to shame, and his right hand was contorted to mimic the Vulcan peace sign.
"And I find you so convincing, what with the sneaking into my hotel room and all. Here's a tip, next time you attempt breaking and entering, try wearing something quieter. With a shirt like that, I heard you coming yesterday."
"I'm not here to trade opinions about men's fashions with you, Xander. I'm here to talk about you." Xander's eyes widened as the man mentioned his name. Who the hell is this guy?
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm someone who is knows about your past." The man answered cryptically. "And someone who's very concerned about your future."
"Yeah? And what's it to you?"
"Lets just say that my 'clients' have a vested interest in you making an appearance at the Hellmouth sometime in the very near future."
" I'm not going back there. I have nothing worth going back to anymore."
"Something big is going down there, son. Your friends might be in trouble. You should be there to help them."
"I should be there? I SHOULD be dead! I SHOULD be enjoying the quiet life six feet under right now! And what do my 'friends' need me for? Another donut run? Another shelf needs fixing?"
"But you aren't dead, Xander. And the way I look at it you have three choices. You could take your own life, but you're too honourable for that. You could mope around feeling sorry for yourself, which is what you're doing now. Not fun is it? Or you could be grateful for the second chance you've got, and do something with your life."
The man's speech caused Xander's anger to seethe even further. {This son of a bitch doesn't even know me and he wants to tell me what to do?} "Oh yeah, I am so going to take the advice of a guy who shops in the 'loud obnoxious losers' section of Sears."
"Listen, kid.", the man said, a hint of agitation in his voice. "If you don't want to do it for your friends, that's just fine. But do it for Her. She had faith in you. Don't prove Her wrong. Don't let Her sacrifice be in vein." With that the man started heading for the door. Xander did not stop pointing the barrels of his guns at the man for even a split second. "One more thing kid, about that dream you've been having."
"What?"
" Hell's a bitch, isn't it?" With that, the man walked out of Xander's motel room.
Xander stood there, rooted to the spot for the moment. He furrowed his brow in deep concentration as he replayed the conversation he just had in his head. Finally coming to a decision, Xander reached for the leather pants that were lying on the ground and put them on. He then walked over to his bed and gently shook the figure sleeping peacefully on the other side.
"Wake up, luv."
"What is it kitten? You know mommy doesn't like it when you interrupt her beauty sleep."
"Get dressed, Dru. We're leaving."
"But where are we going?", Drusilla whined. "Mommy likes it here. The people here are so sweet."
"We're going to Sunnydale."