A JOKE ON THE MIND

Disclaimer: I do not own them. I do not have any claim to them. They belong to the kind Joss Whedon who graciously let us lowly fan fic writer borrow them. Thank You !!!

Spoilers: Spike did come back to Sunnydale, but he did NOT run into the Initiative. Instead, he secretly set himself up as the local Master and has been keeping an eye on the Scoobies.

Summary: Xander decides to just give up and accept his death, too bad it seems his plan isn't working out.

Ch. 1- What's in a Name?

It was almost scary how easily I surrendered to death. I've been shocked every day to actually wake-up alive. Especially ever since my dad discovered that beating on a seven year old kid was easier than that hitting a wife that could fight back. I've always believed that I should have died that day; that that forehead-meet-table edge should have been my last meeting. I wish dearly that it had been. Then, maybe, I wouldn't have had to hear what I heard.

I know I am a joke; I was a dead-man-walking before I ever knew whom the term REALLY referred to. I am as normal a teenager as the next guy. My only real friends are two girls- YEA! - and neither of them could, or would, ever go on a date with me. I know Willow has, and has had, a crush on me, but it isn't with the 'real' me. I know. I sound like a talk show guest, but that's still what I want. I want the person I date to know me. The Buffster- As if she'd ever lower herself to date someone like me! – see's me as this dumb and bumbly kid-brother type. Willow remembers me as the hero who defended her when she was little; for all that she's my best friend, she somehow missed it when I gave up on believing in hero's and happily ever afters. Now, I know that heroes are just people who survive and happily ever after only last until the book closes.

They grew up but, somehow, they forgot that I did too. I grew up and, because I cared about them, I hid. I never told them that I watched Buffy because I wanted to study how she moved, NOT because I had a crush on her like they all thought. I never told them that I started taking karate lessons from one of my neighbors. Or that said neighbor wasn't entirely human. Or that he gave me a talisman that lets me sense vampires even better than Buffy's spidey sense. It's true though.

I never told them any of this, of course. And, it isn't as if I was planning to do some save-the-day become a hero thing. I just accepted the truth. Even if they saw me save the day and an actual God showed up to declare me his long lost heir, they would still never believe it wasn't a joke.

But at least I'm a joke with a biting end.

"This is a bit annoying, mate. Where's the whelp that insulted my sire? "

"He's on vacation right now. If you'd like to let me go, I'll have him give you a call as soon as he gets back. Shouldn't be more than fifty, maybe sixty, years."

"There you go. Almost thought I had the wrong guy."

"Um…Not that I'm not having fun watch my life flash before my eyes and all, but could you get on with the killing me part? I'd rather not be all fear-sweaty when they find me and the whole waiting part isn't exactly helping."

"Sorry, mate."

Okay, I'm standing up on my own. There isn't an arm around my throat. My own arms can move, they're a little stiff from trying to bend up and meet the back of my head, but they can move. Wow, my back isn't cold anymore. One icy corpse-guy away from my back- and at my side- and… I'm falling. Cold hands catching me. And I'm leaning against my soon to be killer… who's carefully helping me sit down.

Maybe he did kill me. This is that thing people say happens when you die and your brain's sill alive for a few seconds ever after the rest of your body is landfill filler. Maybe that's what this is. I'm actually dead and my brain's still aware so it made up this nice fantasy where Spike lets me go and I have few seconds of fake happiness before I shut down and get up-close and personal with my own little hell.

"Don't think you're quite hell's type, mate."

Since when do vamps read minds? Unless this is all part of my dying hallucination and it's all happening in my own head.

"You feelin' all right? I didn't hold you that tight. And, you're talking out loud so I don't exactly need to read your mind, now do I?"

"Oh."

"Mate? BLOODY HELL, I know I didn't do that!"

"Quietly! …Do what?"

"Put that bloody big bump on the back of your head, that's what!"

"Oh. Got it earlier. Why aren't I dead?"

"That's it. You're coming with me."

When did I stand up? I'm walking; I am calmly walking down the street with a dead guy holding onto my arm like it's a security blanket. Wonder if vampires have blankets when they sleep? Why is he holding my arm, anyway?

"Because, if I don't, I'll bloody well have to pick you up and carry you."

"Okay." Wonder how much he can carry? "Where are we going? I kinda liked the idea of dying in a cemetery. It saves on all the moving the body around. They could just dig a big hole beside me and then rollllll me into it. PLOP- push the dirt back in and they'd be all done. Easy."

"Mate, we are going to have a serious talk about your little obsession with dying. First, though, what's your name?"

"Alexander LeValle Harris, but everyone calls me Xander 'cause my dad says it's easier to yell and I get yelled at a lot so everyone just calls me that. What's yours?"

"My what?"

I wonder where we are? I don't recognize anything. "Your name."

"We're on the other side of town. And you know my name, you heard Peaches use it."

"No, not THAT name. I told you my real name." Nobody ever uses it unless it's someone telling me what a failure I am and how much potential I'm destroying. I wish others used it. Jesse used to use it when were just hanging out; the two of us against the world. I was Alex; he was Jes. After I killed him I forgot how to be Alex. Being me hurt when no one else was there to even care about the differences or laugh at how good I was at hiding.

"What's your REAL name? I know you used to be William something. What?" Did you ever have a nickname? Maybe Wil or Willy- No, he couldn't be a Willy. Lee: like wil-LEE-am? Lee or Wil, definitely a one 'l' Wil. Wonder what his parents used to call him? They're dead now, guess I can't exactly call 'em up and ask them. Did he kill them? Deadboy killed his family but I bet I would've hated him even when he was alive. Probably would've hated Lee too. But I'd have hated-hated Angelus; I'd have only jealous-hated Lee.

"Why?"

"huh?"

"Why would you have 'hated-hated' Peaches and 'jealous-hated' me?"

"Um" Can't answer that. I'm okay with dying now, but I don't want to be tortured. What does it feel like to be stabbed with a spike? Do you bleed to death or is something vital punctured and you just stop? Do you feel your own heart stop? When my dad tried to smother me, I felt my heart slow down before the phone rang and he forgot about me to go meet some drinking buddies. Wish he'd ignored the phone.

"We are DEFINITELY going to talk about that?"

"That?"

"Your wanting to die."

"Bet you had a gorgeous, popular girlfriend."

"Pardon?"

"When you were Lee. You were popular and had a gorgeous girlfriend that adored you. No one ever laughed at you. Or made you run stupid errands just 'cause they could. Or said you were just like 'one of the girls'. Or laughed about how you were probably a terrible kisser. Or had your father figure make jokes about how dumb you are and how much tutoring you needed just to FAIL all your classes." Yep, I'd have jealous-hated you.

Uh-Oh, more baddies. Am I supposed to be dinner? Was it Spike's turn to bring take-out? Deadboy wanted to share me with Spike; maybe Spike wants to share me too. Finally, people want me.

"Mate?"

"Yea?"

"Stop talking. Stop thinking. Just stand here and DON'T DO ANYTHING."

"Okay" Maybe I'm for later.

Oh, RIGHT! Don't think…