He is here, Galitrothe hissed, beaming at the same time. And he reeks of beauty.
Surely you aren't talking about me, are you?
Angel, how nice of you to drop by.
So, my secret is out, is it?
Yes, I'm afraid so.
Well, then you must know what is coming, deserving what your brothers got. The last pillar of an ancient evil. Los Angeles will rise back to where it should be.
I'm afraid that soul must weigh very heavily on you, Angel. It seems you aren't getting enough oxygen. The hooded figure drenched in black satin cackled deeply. It wasn't like Angel to be unnerved, but he knew that this last fight would be the end of him. It's too bad he couldn't have convinced Xander of the same thing. You think I'll fall so easily as them? I am wrath; deadlier than the hurricane of flatulence my first brother was. Marisco; show him what I mean.
Two soldier of onyx descended in pale clouds of dust around Angel. In each, the swarm of a thousand beetles surged around the dense bodies and became a blade, poisonous if touched or not. Angel hissed.
You are a fool, Galitrothe. Let the mortals be.
You have no rights telling me such things, death walker with a soul. Let your end be nigh.
I'm afraid I can't let you do that. His dark eyes pierced the very heart of wrath and with clenched fingers; he choked the first black guard.
Very good, Xander, you've done well. It's quite amusing how you seem to find your place among us.
Mocking to hide your nervousness?
Nervous to hide my mocking, dear boy.
A world, a lifetime away, Giles and Willow were doing serious damage to the Watchers library. Willow had even briefly summoned Anya's ghost to sift through the vast records of prophecy. Something that might heal the Rift created by Wolfram and Hart's darkness. Willow's short fiery hair matched her temper most days. Each second that passed was Xander in hell, literally. She didn't care about his significant rise in power. She just wanted him back, no matter how much Angel would care for him.
Here Giles; heads up. Anya let a burst of wind go from her lungs, seeing as how she was just an astral projection and couldn't actually hold a damn thing, and a book dislodged itself enough to fall from the precarious balcony into Giles' waiting hand.
Thank you, Anya. What did you find?
It looks to be in the same writing as the Wish master's dimension, Giles. I can only think it might at least breach the subject of what they even call Los Angeles in prophecy.
It's a start.
Xander, don't let the damn thing touch you!
I can tell that, Angel! Trust me. Angel swerved again, now back to back with Xander.
Oh, how valiantly they die, wrath moaned forth.
Shut up! We'll get to you in a second.
Lord, what fools these mortals be. Galitrothe opened a cabinet to his left and a dark red light drenched the place and it shook mightily. Angel watched cascades of dust fall as wrath allowed himself to be soaked inward to the light. Had he sacrificed himself? That couldn't be; it wouldn't. The black minions continued to attack. Weapons were useless; Xander's mind was useless. Was there any way?
Giles! Get over here now! Willow was three aisles and three meters deeper in the catacombs and yet Giles could hear her voice as well as if he were only three rows of books away. Willow's hands were covered in cobwebs, but the cover of the book itself concerned her the most.
Oh my!
Put it down Willow!
I can't! It's opening of it's own free will! Page after page flipped and Giles found Anya hovering over a falling Willow; the skin of her fingertips melting as the book tore away something from her. The page leapt open as violet rays began to explode and the library, in turn, shook. Evil was breaking the world solidly apart.
Giles did not hesitate, but read the incantation contained therein and there was sudden burst of darkness followed by a deeper one of grey light that emanated from Willow to a point not far beyond. Giles fell to his knees and began to drag her. The lightning effect consumed him and only got her sat up when he saw it. A portal was opening that led straight to the lair of hell's wrath.
Xander?
Willow?
Angel?
Giles?
Yes, we all know who's who! Just make it stop! It's killing her. Anya's voice was tinged with a panic that Xander felt in his throat.
Let go of the book, baby.
I can't Xander. It's part of me. And it has something to tell you. Can you read it?
Xander went forth, closer to the cabinet wrath has sacrificed himself into. He was locked in a trance, far from where Angel or either collapsing building were. Tell me, Willow.
From the darkness in New Hellion
Born of blood unknown
This power shall impart an Angel upon the world
This sacrifice of mortality shall pale the breach of death
Long in making shall it roam
Powers be damned to salvation
In it shall be renewed fires of home
Collapsing into what could be and was
Only to find glory in its realms
What does it mean, Xander? He looked back at Angel, a sad mixture of emotion veiling his eyes.
It means, these powers were never mine to control. It means, love, that it's over.
Not again! I can't lose you again!
We don't have a choice. The acceptance, the utter futility unnerved Angel.
Yes, yes we do. Prophecies are beaten by you and your kind on a daily basis.
For once, Angel, don't rationalize this. We've both been avoiding this from the moment Angelus awakened this dormant power in me. And now, I have this one chance to do something right.
But you've done so much; changed me so much. I can't resurrect you.
I wouldn't ask you to, Angel. That's not what this is about.
You don't have to be a hero, Xander!
Yes, I do.
Hurry!
What do I do Willow?
Just as I once did, so will you. Let the power have control.
No! Xander let the tears cascade as he released each brick in the wall of his mind and remembered. He let himself remember. Jesse. Spike. Buffy. Anya. Jonathan. Riley. Wesley. Cordelia.
I'm sorry love. His eyes tinged a deep shade of bluish white as the rapturous wings of power began to flow through the place. Each shattered bottle brought another level of color back into the dark realm. The breath of the place seemed to revive and collide with the musk.
Angel felt Xander's jewels ripping from the back of his neck. He could feel his own breaking; his personal connection with Xander dying. He almost felt his soul collide within his own shadow as Angelus heaved a howl that shattered the unbeating heart of them both. My boy.
Angel began to flatten downward as the roads rose back into their place. The men and women, mortal and demon alike, fell into a protective coma as the death charm that rattled the place into hell was breached by Xander's innate gift. The bubble burst sharply and Xander saw the sun for the last time before a shadow overcame him. Out of that shadow came a voice.
Come, Xander.
Joyce?
We've been watching out for you.
Cordy?
Two hands stretched forth on either side of Xander and he took the hands of the astral projections that swirled around him. They led him to a bright palace that filled him with something he hadn't felt in a very long time. A sense of hope was found here. He took a small glass and drank from a dazzling fountain, thirsty being an inadequate term.
You let your hair grow long. Cordy reached out to touch it and Xander moved away.
I see Angel taught you much about brooding.
I hated to leave him.
We know. This was our idea; that you two might be together forever.
How?
Angel's soul needs a new guardian. With Connor of an age with his own guardian, Faith, and the last remnants of Drusilla's love gone; he could very well lose it all again. He needs your love, Xander.
At the risk of sounding stupid, how?
Love him. Remember the moment you first loved him.
The year we took the Hyperion Hotel, he bought me a terrier. Useless thing, afraid of its own shadow and twice as stupid. Yapping constantly, but it loved me. Wouldn't ever leave my side, except for when I left the hotel. Nearly got into Spike's blood supply once. Angel just laughed the little pup off, inside though, I knew there was more.
So I taught it courage and I taught it to wrestle. And Angel, God love him, found both of us one night on the kitchen floor, my shirt flung half over my head and my arms flailing about as Toby the First attacked my favorite sweater, a late birthday gift from Buffy. Cordy giggled and Joyce just let her mom eyes rove on the creases of Xander's toughness. She knew what was coming.
He picked us both up in his arms and the puppy ceased to struggle, much as I had ceased to struggle long ago. And then, he kissed me with every ounce of gratitude he had. I didn't struggle. And I knew then, it was more than lust. It was a bond not even he had with his sire or childe. It was love; would always be.
Then that is enough. Xander's chest glowed and he let the first tears fall from his eyes, but they were not tears of sadness. They were tears of relief.
Don't worry Xander. We're not going anywhere now. We'll be around.
I hope so. Angel and I both need fashion advice. He kissed Cordy's cheek and she returned a hug of friendship, of former lovers, of a deep love and understanding.
Angel awoke, full of a torment that stalked his very bones. He cradled Xander's body, but couldn't even find the wail searching in his soul. It ran too deep to even be there. Blissful spots of sunshine burned against his skin, but he did not scream. He took an undead breath and walked out into the light, holding his lover in his arms.
The scattered light did not touch him, nor did it burn. But a pendant glowed upon his chest, the same dazzling blue that had separated from Xander's eyes that moment he had taken the girls' outstretched hands.
The second thing Los Angeles knew when it was reborn in this world was as strange as snow in Sunnydale. As smooth as obsidian and as mysterious as a banshee; fog rolled and began to cleanse the hills. Fog came and wrapped itself around Angel as a cloak. Fog.