Title: Last Rites
Series: Ashes to Ashes
Author: Jon Emery
Email:
Summary: What if Xander died for Dawn, instead of Buffy? And what if someone decided to bring him back?
Pairing: Xander/Spike, Xander/Angel
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Mainly for "The Gift", although I changed quite a lot of it. Any more is just anything that led up to that, but I changed the Angel Season 2 finale "There's No Place Like Pltz Grb" just a little, too.
Disclaimers: None of the characters of Buffy or Angel belong to me; they are the property of Joss Whedon (dammit!). Ishtar and Ereshkigal are figures in Sumerian mythology, but most of their attributes are products of my imagination, which sort of makes them mine.
It wasn't supposed to turn out that way. It should never have gone down like that… Spike could barely concentrate on the coffin that was being lowered into the ground as these thoughts ran through his mind. He didn't want the last memories he had of his Xander to be of a cold, hard box, and a lifeless corpse within. How could it happen like that? He thought again, his grief consuming him, making him blind to the crying women in the cemetery. Buffy, Willow, Anya, Tara… and Dawn. Dawn Summers, the innocent girl that had unwittingly started it all. She was the reason that they were all there that day, watching their friend disappear into the Earth.
Spike knew that it wasn't really her fault, that she could never be blamed for what happened, but another part of him screamed how can she not be blamed for what happened? That image came to him again, of Xander looking at Dawn with such love as they stood at the top of the tower. Of Xander picking up the Doc's knife, and cutting his hand. Cutting Dawn's. Clasping them together, in a blood pact that would last for an eternity. Their blood mixed, and then Xander leapt into the Gate. Sealing it with his life. Spike had watched it all from far below, his preternatural senses picking up everything that Xander said;
"Don't worry, everything is going to be fine. I want you do something for me. I want you to tell Spike that I love him more than anything in the world, and that he will never be alone. None of you will ever be alone. Do you hear me? I love all of you."
And with that, he had kissed Dawn on the forehead and jumped into the arms of Death, welcoming it's cold embrace. When the Portals closed, his body fell to the ground, and Spike had knelt there for hours, holding him close, until the sun rose and the Slayer pulled him to safety.
Of course, it had come as a shock to everyone in the gang that he and Xander had been lovers. And after that revelation, they had never treated him with contempt or hatred ever again. He became a part of their family. It felt good, to be a part of a group again, to have people respect him. But it would never compare to the warmth and tenderness of being in Xander's arms.
As soon as Angel heard what happened, he felt a part of himself die. As if all of the hidden attractions and needs that he had ever felt for Xander just turned cold and faded. Willow had been waiting for them at the Hyperion when they got back from Pylea, a solitary tear falling down her cheek. Angel's first thought had been of Buffy, but when Willow told him, he felt so guilty that his thoughts had gone straight to the Slayer when he had resolved that he would never think about her again.
He hadn't gone to the funeral, although it had been at night, but he did send a letter to the Scoobies, telling them how sorry he was, and how Xander would always hold a special place in his heart. If only they knew the full extent of it, of how a single thought of Xander made Angel feel as if he could still live and breathe.
And the worst part was, that Angel had decided to tell Xander how he felt, as soon as he returned from Pylea. And the very minute that he was thinking of the brown-eyed boy, he had seen Willow and she had shattered his world.
The office was even more quiet than usual when Cordelia let herself in that morning. Gunn and Wesley were at Caritas talking to a contact, Fred was probably still hiding in her room and Angel was doing pretty much the same thing, only he did it with a much more pained expression on his face. After all, the guy had been practicing for decades. It seemed to Cordy that ever since he had heard about Xander, he had just gone even further into his broody shell. As if Xander's death had made him lose all hope of redemption. Cordelia understood what he was feeling. Every time someone under Angel's protection was harmed, he felt extreme guilt. And when Xander died, Xander who was miles away and unprotected by Angel, he still felt guilty. Because he wasn't there, he didn't fight with Buffy to protect everyone. Cordelia could remember herself telling Angel at least twenty times a day; you can't save them all, but each time he seemed to hear her less and less.
Sighing, the former May Queen sat down at her desk and booted her computer. After about an hour Wes and Gunn arrived with information on some painfully obscure prophecy that would undoubtedly bring terror on the world in the next week. Cordelia knew the drill, she'd been though it enough times in Sunnydale. They would stop the prophecy, save the world and then party 'til sunrise… Only, the last time someone tried to end the world, Xander died. He saved the world alone, with no help from the Slayer, and the only party that happened after that was a Wake.
After about another hour, Fred decided to venture downstairs into the great unknown and curl up in a chair in the corner of the room, making herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. And finally Angel came down, quiet and looming as always, and just sat there while she and Wesley discussed one of the latest cases.
She sometimes wondered if Angel knew about Spike. About Xander and Spike. She had been shocked to see Spike at the funeral at all, let alone to see him with tears rolling down his face and Xander's name on his lips. That was when she realised why the funeral was at night. Spike wanted to say goodbye to his lover. Everything made sense, after that. Why Xander had seemed so happy after Anya left Sunnydale, when she had expected his letters and phone calls to be full of misery and depression.
She would miss him. She knew that they would all miss him, because he had been such an integral part of their family. They had lost a bright, kind and loving soul and the World was the worse off for it.
No one noticed the shadowy figures as they entered the cemetery. Two beautiful young women, twins, with long red hair and deep green eyes. Each wore a black dress and an amulet around their neck. They were Queens, Goddesses, Ishtar of Heaven and Ereshkigal of the Underworld. Kneeling before the grave of the fallen warrior, they began their spell. They held their palms out downwards, their unearthly eyes half-closed as they called on a primal energy, invoking it into the vessel of flesh and bone that they put before it. As the ancient power flowed into the body, the witch-queens opened up the Gate to the Afterlife, crying out the name of the fallen. They bargained with Fate, exchanging the soul of their offering with the spirit of the Warrior that rose out of the shadows as Death accepted their gift. One woman put her hand on the other's, and a surge of red light filled their eyes, age-old magicks pouring down into the grave. Satisfied that their work was complete, at least for the time being, the twin Goddesses left the cemetery.
Six feet beneath the ground, the red light rushed into the physical body, forcing new life into it. Deteriorating skin and muscle regenerated and tightened, the blood started to flow again, a jolt of power made the heart beat once more. And for the first time in three months, Xander Harris opened his eyes and breathed.
To Be Continued
On to Next Part - Reborn