Wrought in Iron

By: Bubbajack

Beta: Grammarly, Self-proofread

Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS, or anything related to this fic.

Ch.1: Reforging a shattered mind.

'I hate being poor.' Xander thought to himself as he looked around at all the cool costumes knowing all of them were well out of his price range of twenty dollars. With a sigh, he went over to a sign that said bargain bin containing bits and pieces of various costumes as Buffy and Willow paid for their own attire for the night.

Ruffling around a bit, he found a small silver hammer, like that used for smithing. A hard plastic chest piece to a set of Iron man armor along with the repulsor gauntlets. Last but not least a crimson cloak, wrapped around them was a pair of curved swords, one black with a tortoise shell design in red, the other a cloudy white, both had a yin-yang symbol on their surfaces.

Looking over his finds, he thought to himself, 'Well, with this and a bit of work, maybe I can go as a Space Marine of the Iron Hands chapter. Jessie's old Red Talon figures were red and black if I recall. Yeah, this could work.'

He made his way to the counter feeling a little bit better than before. As he was being cashed out, he saw several stickers that had Tolkien's Sindarin on them in gold, he bought several for fifty cents a pop. 'After all, if it's not decked out in gold, it's not proper 40k armor.'

Buffy answered the door when she heard the knock. Upon opening it, she found her Xander-shaped-friend standing there in a mishmash of clothing and costume pieces. A crimson chest piece and matching gauntlets that had golden stickers in some strange language she couldn't identify, black jeans and boots with knee pads over them and a red cloak over his shoulders with a plastic hammer hanging from a belt frog at his side.

"Nice costume Xan…what's it supposed to be?" she asked conversationally as she fixed her Renaissance-style dress and straightened her wig.

"Thanks, it's basically a closet costume, but I wanted to look like a super soldier from the future. Hey Misses S." Xander greeted upon seeing Buffy's mother in the kitchen.

Smiling warmly at him, Joyce Summers said in faux exasperation, "Xander how many times must I ask you to just call me Joyce?"

"Just one more time Misses Summers." He replied ever politely.

Shaking her head, Joyce replied, "You kids ready to head out for the night?"

"Yes, ma'am. We just need to get the kids we'll be chaperoning, and we'll be off." Xander affirmed.

"We'll don't let me keep you, be safe alright?" Joyce told them.

"We'll be okay mom, promise. C'mon Xan, we need to get the kids." Buffy proceeded to drag him by the arm towards the front door.

"Seeya later Misses Summers!" Xander called as the Slayer pulled him out the door.

Once the two were outside, he asked, "Something happen between you and the 'rent?"

The faux-blonde replied evasively, "Not exactly, she's just…worrying about me."

To which Xander promptly retorted, "She's your mom, it's her job. Believe me, it's better to have a parent that cares than one who doesn't care at all. You're lucky to have her."

"Yeah but, I can't just come out and tell her 'Oh hey mom, I'm a super-powered girl who fights vampires and other wiggy things for a living. Yeah, that would fly over like a lead balloon."

"Maybe, maybe not." He replied with a shrug.

Giving him a sideways glance, she inquired, "What do you mean 'maybe'?"

Scratching his chin in thought, the Scooby replied, "Well when you really think about it, what's really the worst your mom can do to you? Ground you? I've seen you jump over fence gates like they were nothing, punch vampires and send them flying, you know kung-fu and whatever else, and you've never taken a class. Realistically, there's not a dang thing your mom can really do to stop you from the Slayer-age. The only thing you're afraid of Buffster is disappointing Joyce…well, that and not wanting her to worry about you."

Buffy stopped and stared at Xander after he finished his little spiel. Earning a raised eyebrow from him before he asked, "What?"

"That's…very well thought out Xan."

Pouting he retorted, "And you seem surprised I can be deep? I've been around Willow and her 'rents for years you know? To understand them, you have to be able to psychoanalyze on some level. "

Sighing, Buffy nodded, "I could see that, sorry I didn't mean to be…well you know."

He shrugged, "Don't worry about it."

Flicking her eyes to him again after a moment of silence, she questioned, "So, if you're so deep how come you act like the resident goof all the time?"

"The kinda stuff I know isn't really all that useful." He replied with a shrug.

"What kinda things?"

Sighing a little, "You for example, only pretend to act like a dumb blonde stereotype. You are however brilliant. You also like to pronounce words wrong just to annoy Giles. You dislike Cordelia because you see who you used to be in her-"

"Whoa, whoa, I do not see myself in Cordelia Chase!" Buffy retorted hotly, adding, "Also, some of those words I actually can't pronounce."

"Buffy, I said you used to be like her. You're not anymore. But seeing Cordelia is looking into a mirror for you isn't it?"

"I-how do you know this?"

He was silent for a time, his head held low in shame, "Xander?"

Sighing he replied, "After-after Jessie, I wanted to know more about the curious girl who could fight vampires on such even terms. So I did a little digging and found your public records."

He expected her to get angry and start shouting at him, but instead, she got quiet, "Oh, so you know about…the incident at the gym then?"

He nodded, "You burned down your old school gym citing vampires. You were sent to an asylum for six months. Before that, you were cheerleading captain, valedictorian, straight A student, who likely wore a different outfit ever week and whose idea of a good time was spending daddy's money shopping till she dropped, and stealing other girls boyfriends just because she could before dumping them when you got bored with them. How far off am I?"

"Not very, and you're polite about it." She finished with a sigh. "You may be right, damn you. Anything else about me you want to comment on?"

"Well, there's your obvious attraction to older men and necrophilia."

This time he earned a slap on the shoulder, causing him to grunt in pain and stumble a bit. "I AM NOT An NECROP-NECROPIL-NECROPHILI-I AM NOT INTO CORPSES!"

"You're into Angel, who is a walking corpse, and if we're going by physical looks, he's in his twenties. Chronologically, he's over two-hundred. Your sixteen, either way, you slice it, its necrophilia, and in his case, pedo-bear. Actually considering his age, it's like…I don't even think there's a term for this."

Frowning and looking away, she muttered, "It's different, he has a soul."

Gently taking her hand, forcing her to look at him, he said, "Lots of people who have souls do bad things, Buff. Hitler, Caligula, Principle Snyder. Plus we don't know if his curse has some weird loophole that breaks it. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Like you pointed out earlier Xan, I'm the Slayer, I can take care of myself." She then leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, saying, "But thanks for worrying."

"Xander! Buffy!"

The two turned to see Willow dressed in a ghost costume leading a small horde of children.

Leading her parade of ghosts and ghouls to a stop in front of the two, the redhead asked, "Ready to go trick-or-treating?"

Putting an arm around the Slayer, he replied, "Yep, and remember kids, to act cute and you'll get extra candy. Now, who's ready for a sugar rush?"

"YEAH!" the kids screamed out.

Then let's go!" he said enthusiastically, pointing his fake hammer towards the nearest house.

These would be the last words spoken by him as a crimson flash overtook the sky.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if all his pain receptors were firing off at once, his world was filled with agony. Seconds later, he vomited copious amounts of blood. Then he saw the images.

They shifted rapidly, going faster by the second, but he managed to make some of them out. A man…no an elf, worked at a forge hammering away with a silver hammer, crafting a ring…he sought to overthrow a dark shadow, and took possession of his evil band, turned his forces against him slowly but surely like the tide. In the end, hubris killed him. He watched his wife and child slain before his very eyes before he was beaten to death with his own hammer…

The next set of visions was of a man. A Genius. A Scientist. He built weapons of war for profit. Then one day, his own weapons brought him low, and he was taken prisoner, shrapnel close to his heart. He persevered, however, and forged a set of crude yet powerful armor, at the cost of his fellow prisoner's life. He escaped and created more advanced armors. He gained and lost wealth, love, and allies. He has been a hero, villain, traitor, and puppeteer. But above all, he was someone who wanted to protect others from his mistakes.

The final set of visions were the worst. A boy, a child, walked through a sea of flames and screaming corpses. He collapsed and was soon found by a disheveled looking man. The look on his face was one of pure bliss. He adopted the boy, but not before telling him he was a mage. After years of badgering on the kid's part, the sickly man conceded and proceeded to teach him magic. So that he could carry on the man's dream of being a Hero. He wasn't the greatest at it, but he kept trying even after the old man passed away. For years, he trained in secret helping all those he could in the simplest of ways.

Then, the War happened. A clash of Titans, of Gods, of Servants.

She was beautiful standing there in the moonlight, her flaxen hair, and eyes that gleamed like jade, her bearing regal wearing an armored dress that clearly denoted her as royalty. She took off like a shot, tearing the ground beneath her feet asunder, and kicking up a gale with every move she made. It was only later he found out that she was actually in a weakened state. But his resolve to not see others hurt, especially for his sake made him throw himself up against an impossible foe.

He should've died, yet he lived. He continued to fight alongside his Servant, his teammate, until the bitter end. After she was gone from his life, he felt inspired and trained and pushed himself even harder, before he threw himself into the most hellish of battlefields, protecting all he could. As time wore on, he killed more and more, saved less and less, until finally, he could stomach it no longer. He made a pact with the World for the cost of bringing back less than a hundred dead, he would serve gladly for the rest of eternity. Thinking that even after death, he could continue to protect…

He was wrong.

Hell was all that awaited him after death. He could no longer protect anything or anyone. For whenever he was called forth, it was to be an executioner, a butcher meant to slaughter any, and he came across. A Cleaner. A Killer. The Antithesis of the very ideals he strove to uphold his entire life. In the end, the Hero became a cynic, now seeing only hypocrisy in what he once believed in.

It was all too much. The pain combined with the hallucinations was too intense. He wasn't sure what gave out first, his mind or his body, but in the end, he saw only black.

Two men and one elf surveyed the young boy before them, his mind broken, his body quickly following suit. One clad in a crimson mantle with hair like snow and eyes of steel spoke first, "Well, this is unfortunate."

"Unfortunate, we broke a kid's mind! We have to fix this somehow." The other human, covered in advanced red and yellow armor with a blue-white sphere shining in the center of his chest. His helmet was drawn back revealing his face, he had a short trimmed goatee, and black hair swept back from his head, he glared at the other man with piercing blue eyes.

The two's argument was stopped prematurely when the elf, his hair black as night, his skin like alabaster and his eyes gleaming like emeralds stepped between them, saying "Enough! Infighting will get us nowhere, and we are short on time as it is! As it stands, I agree with that the boy must be helped. We broke him. Thus, we must fix him. But first introductions. I am Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, last scion of the House of Fëanor."

"Oh God, no. Not that hack Tolkien…" the last of the trio said shaking his head his head in disgust.

"Who? The elf asked, confused.

Waving away his inquiry, he replied, "Don't worry about it. I'm Tony, Tony Stark."

Shaking his head with his arms crossed the mantle clad warrior sighed and said, "For the record, I think this is stupid…but you can call me Emiya." The last of the trio replied curtly with a stiff nod.

The elf nodded, "Now, you say his broken? Then let us reforge it. I am more concerned with what is happening to his body at the moment."

Leaning down and allowing his suit to do a quick scan, Tony quickly came up with an answer. "He's been infected with the Extremis Virus, likely my version of it. It'll heal any wounds he has, and he'll be able to mentally connect with any form of technology he comes across."

Celebrimbor nodded after a moment, "That is repairing his body making it superior, now we must do the same to his mind. How about you go first Stark?"

"Uh right…how exactly?"

The elf lord replied, "This is a metaphysical space created by magic. It responds to our thoughts. Think about what you want him to have, and give it to him."

Now he understood. The Golden Avenger knew exactly what he wanted to give the boy. Placing a hand on his brow, he granted him his most valuable attributes, his vast intellect, ingenuity, drive, and charisma.

He then held out his free hand and materialized a crimson colored gem. Celebrimbor gazed at it in abject wonder for he could feel the power thrumming from within its depths. Not since the loss of the Silmarilli had he been around something so wondrous.

"What is that?"

Tony answered the elf, "It's one in a set of six gems called the Infinity Gems, each having control over an aspect. This one can control reality."

"And you're giving him something like that, are you insane?" Emiya asked.

"No, I'm not insane," Tony replied as he forced the stone to melt into dust before it became one with his being.

He then told the unconscious boy something crucial, something that would shape his morality from here on out, "With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility."

Stark paused for a moment before continuing with his speech, "Someone once told me that with great power comes great responsibility. That's usually thought of as a lesson for children. A simple injunction to do the right thing. But there's nothing simple about it. When you wake up, you'll have more power than any human was ever intended to have... and more responsibility than a heart can truly bear. Use it responsibly."

He then stood up and took several steps back, motioning for one of the others to go next. Emiya found himself lost in thought, 'The boy didn't bring this on himself, but at the same time, he's basically being pushed down the path of a hero. I know how that ends better than anyone. With that gem, he could do a lot of good, but he needs real expectations if he's going to go down this path.'

Releasing a sigh, Emiya stepped forth next, placing a hand on the boy, while holding out his free hand, he materialized a sphere made entirely of blades that seemed to have heat radiating from within if the crimson glow that showed from the fibrous metal was any indication.

"What is that thing? It looks like it's made of thousands of blades knitted together. I've never seen anything like it."

Glancing at the object briefly, Emiya replied, "This is everything I have, and everything I am."

He then pushed the object into the boy's chest. It resisted, but he forced it down. Once it was in place, Emiya nodded, "There, he currently has all twenty-seven of my fully developed magic circuits, my Element, and Origin and even skills might be there too, but who knows? What with all the changes he's going through."

"Magic Circuits?" Tony inquired.

"Think of it as an organ located in the soul, a secondary nervous system that allows magi to cast magic. Each circuit holds a degree of magical energy. In the beginning, mine had atrophied quite a bit and were only able to hold ten units of magical energy each. But years of practice got them up to snuff. That's what he has. Each Circuit is holding fifty units of energy."

Tony easily latched onto the concept and gave a shrill whistle. "Impressive, so it's like a circuit board for magical power."

"Yes." He then spoke to the boy whose body was beginning to become covered in open sores, "I'm going to be honest with you boy. The path of a hero is a harsh one. You won't be able to save everyone, no matter how hard you try, You Can Only Save, What's In Front Of You. For you are not a God, you don't have divine authority over who lives and dies. The moment you think you do, you stop being a hero and become either a Tyrant or someone's Pawn. Don't let that happen to you."

He was about to get up when he paused and knelt back down to add, "Should you come across a foe you cannot defeat, then Imagine What Can."

With his peace said, Emiya rose and motioned for the elf to go on. Celebrimbor knelt over the youth who was now half-cocooned in a mesh of coagulated blood. "I gift to thee the grace and skill and longevity of mine kin, the Fair Folk. I gift thee, mine skill with hammer, metal and precious stone. I give thee my knowledge of Sindarin and Quenya and their meanings. Lastly, I gift thee a name and mission."

Celebrimbor paused before saying, "I name thou Istangren. Adopted son of Celebrimbor, son of Curufin. Thou art the Last of the House of Fëanor. Thus, your mission is to raise the Kingdom of Eregion again and bring low Sauron the Deceiver, and other forces of evil."

Before he rose, Celebrimbor gave the boy shrewd advice, "Never trust anyone on their word or looks alone. For looks can beguile the mind and words, no matter how sweetly spoken can be naught but a honeyed lie. Also, never let vengeance utterly consume you…it rings hollow, always."

Rubbing his eyes in expiration Emiya inquired, "Was that really necessary? Pitting him against Sauron and other evils like that?"

"He would do it regardless, I just gave him direction. Besides the people of Eregion deserve vengeance. As the last of the line of Fëanor, it is his duty to see justice done."

"Tch, you're just using him. He's nothing more than a tool of vengeance to you." Emiya stated steel eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"And one of redemption to you." The elf retorted.

Giving a cruel smirk, Emiya replied, "There's' no redemption for me. Just enduring."

Celebrimbor found himself grabbed by the scruff of his neck and turned to face a furious Tony Stark, "You son of a bitch! He's a kid, not some weapon for you to use!"

His beautiful features contorting in rage, Celebrimbor shouted, "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE! TO SEE YOUR HOME BURN AROUND YOU, TO HAVE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE YOU LOVE TAKEN FROM YOU…TO COME SO CLOSE TO EXACTING JUSTICE, ONLY TO HAVE IT RIPPED OUT OF YOUR GRASP…"

Regaining his wits, and lowering his head, the elf finished, "…Knowing full well you failed and it's all your fault. In any case, it doesn't matter now. For our time is up, the spell has been broken." The elf finished a bitter smile on his face.

Willow was leading Buffy along with Angel and Cordelia of all people back to Xander's last known location. When Ethan cast his spell, Xander vomited copious amounts of blood, and Willow, being incorporeal at the time couldn't do anything for him, and Buffy was…indisposed. So she rushed to Giles trying to figure out what was going on. Sadly it was up to her to destroy the bust of Janus meaning she had to leave Xander on his own. Now the group approached the place where Xander once was.

"It-was-crazy-Buffy-was-acting-all-wiggy-and-Xander-was-vomiting-blood-I-didn't-know-what-to-do-so-I-went-to-get-Giles-but-I-had-to-leave-Xander-alone-and-gosh-I-hope-he's-ok!"

After she had deciphered her Willow babble, Buffy put a comforting arm around her red-headed friend and said comfortingly, "I'm sure Xander's ok Will, he's Xander."

"The King of Cretins is probably skulking in an alley somewhere." Cordelia snipped.

Turning to her and for the first time in her life standing up to the Queen Bee of Sunnydale, Will said heatedly, "Xander could be severely hurt, Cordelia. If you're not going to help, go home.

"Whatever." The Burnette replied snippily even as she continued to follow the group.

As they neared Angel said, "I smell blood, lots of it."

The group hurried ever faster towards their fallen boy upon hearing that, especially his two friends. What they found shocked them. A vaguely human shaped cocoon composed entirely of coagulated human blood was laying not fifty feet from them after they turned the corner.

Buffy being the Slayer, was the first to reach his side. "Xander, Xan, you in there?"

She raised her fist, intending to shatter the shell only to be stopped by Willow who said, "Buffy wait, you might hurt him!"

"He could be hurt right now for all we know Willow." Buffy retorted her temper flaring.

Giles stepped forward attempting to calm his charge, "I'm afraid I must agree with Willow on this matter Buffy. Until we know what is going on with Xander and how to reverse it, we shouldn't do anything…brash." He finished before polishing his glasses.

Sighing through her nose, the Slayer reluctantly nodded, "Then what are we supposed to do with him for now? We can't take him to the library, he sticks out like a sore thumb. What about your place Giles?"

"My flat is rather small, I'm afraid I have nowhere to put him, and he needs constant supervision in case something happens to him while we try to figure this out." The Englishman thought aloud.

Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth to keep herself calm, Buffy did her best to think rationally, 'Ok, Giles can't watch him. Willow's place is out as I think even her 'rent's would notice a cocoon of blood in their house.'

She glanced over to Cordelia and Angel. Cordy had a look of disgust on her face, while Angel looked…hungry? 'Right, vampire, and Xander is covered in blood right now. So he's no help, and Cordelia's…Cordelia.'

'What's the worst she can do, ground you?'

Xander's words from earlier came back to her in a rush and suddenly, the Slayer knew what she had to do, even though she didn't like the idea, she didn't see any other options available at the moment. So sighing, she said, "C'mon, I know what to do."

"You do, what?!" Willow asked sounding hopeful.

Picking Xander up in a fireman's carry Buffy said in much braver tone than she currently felt, "We need to have a long overdue talk with my mother."

Joyce Summers hands shook in her lap from the story she had just been told. Her gaze briefly settled on the fleshy lump that was Alexander Harris, a boy she viewed as a son in all but name. Surrounding him was her daughter, Willow, her unofficial second daughter, and one Rupert Giles the librarian at Sunnydale Highschool and her daughter's 'Watcher'.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. Demons are real." Her tone stern.

"Yes," Giles affirmed.

Joyce continued, her voice becoming harsher, "Vampires are real."

Giles stuttered, "Y-yes ma'am."

"And you have had my daughter going out every night in monster infested that is built on top of a portal to hell because she was randomly chosen to be some kind of monster slayer due to some magical mumbo-jumbo she never asked for-"

"Well, it's a bit more-"Giles tried to explain only to be cut off by Joyce who had raised her voice to just below a shout.

"Now, due to an old friend of yours, a boy I consider a son in all but name is in a coma, trapped in some kind of cocoon and you have no idea what is going on! Is that about right, Mr. Giles?!"

"Q-quite." He barely managed to get out finally seeing where his charge got her temper from.

Taking a moment to calm herself, Joyce continued in a quieter tone, "I thought so."

"Mom-"Buffy began tentatively, "To be fair it's not all Giles fault. I tried to tell you and dad once remember? About the gym fire? You didn't believe me then. So don't take it all out on Giles now."

Joyce deflated upon hearing her daughter remind her of the time she and her ex-husband Hank sent her to an insane asylum. "You're right dear, and I owe you an apology for what happened after that."

"Don't worry about it, mom. I would've done the same thing in your position…probably."

Joyce smiled gratefully at her daughter, "While I appreciate that, I'm still upset. I should've been told about this if not by Giles then by someone who was a part of his organization. I am your mother Buffy, it is my job to decide what is best for you, not some secret shadow organization of stuffy old men. It is also my job as your mother to keep you safe."

"Mom." The Slayer complained with a huff before she picked up their coffee table.

It was a rectangle of almost solid wood, which also had a large drawer in it full of all manner of books. Making it weigh hundreds of pounds, with a single hand and hold it above her head before just as quickly placing it back on the floor and saying, "I can take care of myself."

"Physically, it seems so. But you are a teenager Buffy, and an entire organization of adults who know magic and Lord knows what else the rest of the world has forgotten are sending you out, alone, to face God knows what every night? It goes way beyond irresponsible, it's reprehensible."

With every word she spoke Giles sunk deeper into his seat.

"I-I'm the Slayer mom. I may not have wanted the job, but it's mine and somebodies gotta do it." Buffy finished lamely with a shrug.

Giving her daughter a worried smile, "Yes, but does it have to be a group of teenagers alone when an entire shadow organization exists is the point I'm getting at dear."

Clearing her throat Willow said timidly, "Um not that this isn't important Mrs. Summers, but what about Xander? Will you be willing to look after him for a while?"

Frowning slightly Joyce inquired, "What about his parents, shouldn't they care about what's happening with their son?"

Thinking back on what he said earlier, something finally clicked with her. 'Xander's 'rents, they either don't care or are abusive. Maybe both. How could I be so blind? What kind of friend am I, that I can't even notice something like this?'

Facepalming at her own genuine blonde moment, Buffy ground out, "Don't mom just…don't."

Joyce cast the man-sized scab laying on her couch a sympathetic look, "I see, poor boy. Of course until he either wakes up or you find a way to fix it." She gave the librarian a sharp look, "Something I expect to be found soon I hope?"

"Y-Yes of course!" The Englishman said quickly.

Sulking Buffy muttered forlornly, "This wouldn't have happened if Xander wasn't friends with me."

"Buffy," Joyce said attempting to comfort her daughter to no avail.

She raged on the faux-blonde raged on, now with unshed tears in her eyes. "I was worried Xander would get hurt if he kept getting involved and now look at him! He's a giant scab mom!"

Buffy!" Joyce said sharply getting her daughter's attention, "This is not your fault. This can be laid at the feet of Mr. Giles friend Ethan. It had nothing to do with you being the Slayer. Which is why he's going to escort Willow home safely now before he works diligently to fix this mess. Right, Mr. Giles?"

Practically jumping to his feet, the Watcher yammered, "O-Of course come along Willow."

"Call me if anything changes?" Will all but demanded.

"You're the first call," Buffy promised before the redhead hugged her and hurried after the Brit.

An awkward silence now hung over the two Summers women like a miasma. Finally Buffy broke the ice, asking, "Mom, are you mad at me for not telling you?"

"Of course not dear, as you pointed out, you tried to tell me before, and it didn't work out so well…but Mr. Giles, as your new Watcher, should've done so. I realize Merrick couldn't, but he has no excuse."

Looking down at the Cronenberg mass that was-is-Buffy told herself firmly her Xander-shaped-friend the Slayer asked her mother, "Do you think he'll be ok?"

To which the older of the two Summers nodded knowingly and replied, "Xander will be all right."

Looking at her, surprised at how assured she sounded, the Slayer inquired, "How can you be so sure?"

With a twinkle in her eye, Joyce replied, "He's Xander. He loves you and Willow far too much to let something as simple as death stop him from coming back to you both. He may not be whole, he might not be healthy when he comes back, but I guarantee you, Buffy, nothing is going to stop that boy from coming back. Now go get some sleep, you've had a rough night."

Buffy headed upstairs only to come back down briefly with two blankets. Giving one to her mother she placed the other around the unmoving mass that was Xander. "We don't know if he's cold or what, so I thought this might be a good idea."

"Good idea Buffy. Now, off to bed."

To which the Slayer said through a yawn, "G'night mom."

Just as she was about to head up to her room for the night, she said, "Night Xander. Get well soon ok?"

Joyce smiled as she watched her daughter trudge up the stairs to her room, 'My little girl the superhero. Hmm, I wonder how many parents can say that about their kids.'

She then looked over at Xander's prone form that she silently prayed would change back to the loveable goofball she all but considered a son with no ill effects. "Hurry back Xander, Buffy and Willow are going to be a mess without you."

She then settled into her long night's vigil.

Chapter Length: 5,340 words Number of Pages: 11 Date Completed: 3/27/17

AN: I HATE my muse sometimes. I mean there I am trying to finish up the final fight scene for the next chap of Rogue Trader when suddenly get this plot bunny that won't leave me be until I 'put it to paper' so to speak. Thankfully, I was able to get this done in three days. Now hopefully, it'll leave me alone long enough to finish the next chap of Rogue Trader up before hounding me once again.

Some might think I chose an odd mix of characters, but they do all share one thing in common…their smiths. Tony Stark aka Ironman gets almost all of his powers from suits of armor he makes and designs himself. Celebrimbor is the elf who assisted in crafting the Rings of Power in Lord of the Rings and made three of them, the Elven Rings himself, plus he's a monster with runic enchantments, the bow, and a sword. Lastly but not least, of course, my favorite Counter Guardian needs no introduction on what he can do.

So, what do you get when you add these three together? A snarky, intelligent, magically inclined blacksmith. Most of those things Xander already was, to begin with, (to be fair he was a carpenter not a blacksmith but three of one fifteen of the other right?). I hope you all enjoyed and if you did, don't forget to hit the Fave, and Alert buttons and maybe drop a review if you'd feel so inclined? It would certainly make the wait till my upcoming birthday (this Saturday) more bearable, that's for sure. Anyway, till next chap everyone, Bubbajack out! Peace!

P.S. For those of you curious as to what Xander's elvish name means, its Sindarin the more common language of the Tolkien elves and it translates to "Knowledge of Iron."