Wherever I May Roam
Disclaimer: own nothing, mayhap in another world, but not in this one, say thankya.
Summary: Xander makes a sacrifice, and we all know that on the Hellmouth, no good deed goes unpunished.
A/N: a special shout-out to the one we know as Sai King, long days and pleasant nights, good sir!
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In the upper-realms of 'Heaven,' every higher being was shuddering in fear. Never had such fear been felt in that world, not since the days when Lucifer, the Morning Star, had declared war in Heaven, or since the day that a mortal actually penetrated Heaven's gates and made for the throne of God. No, fear was being felt as it had rarely been before, thanks to one sole fact.
Cordelia Chase was PISSED!
"What the Fuck do you think you're doing," the higher being shouted as she stormed the office of her superior, a young looking woman dressed in a flannel shirt and a long brown skirt.
She started to speak, but was interrupted as Cordelia continued on in her tirade.
"HE'S IN HELL," she shouted, "Xander…he's in Hell," she finished, her anger dying for a moment.
Yes, speaking now is the Cordelia Chase of the world most are familiar with. In point of fact, this was the Cordelia Chase of a world which some have called the keystone world. Like most of those who were 'dead' or in a higher plane of existence, she spent most of her time watching the living. While it was frowned upon to watch individuals (she preferred the likes of Christian Bale and Daniel Craig) in situations such as sex or showering, it was not forbidden. However, Cordelia spent most of her free time watching the worlds that she hadn't known existed. She had taken a break from watching a world in which Xander Harris had been sent to a Hell dimension and had come out of it with knowledge of the future, a world she liked to refer to as 'The Road to Hell,' intending to go and watch a world in which she had been an actress with 'Galaxy Quest,' a television show that was essentially a rip-off of her world's Star Trek, when this world had caught her attention.
Now, in most worlds, Xander Harris wound up in either a decent situation or in a situation she knew that she couldn't affect without breaking the rules. This was the first time, however, she had seen him be sent to Hell, the literal Hell. She was certain there were other worlds in which he would be sent to Hell, but she had never seen them, and doubted there were many. The sheer shock of seeing someone that she cared about be sent to Hell in a way she knew was irreversible…it nearly destroyed her to see it happen. The pain of how it had happened, though…that would haunt her forever.
However, she knew it was reversible…divine intervention was one thing she knew very well.
"You've got to help him," Cordelia demanded, staring at the person seated before her, "I've watched him since the day he was born, he's a good person, he does NOT deserve this…he doesn't deserve Hell!"
She stared back at Cordelia for a long moment, then motioned for her to go on.
"The night the Hellmouth opened," Cordelia began, knowing that the night in question would be remembered, "Xander, in my world, helped by killing the zombies and stopping the bomb from going off. In the world I speak of, Giles was too late in casting the spell…and Xander jumped into the Hellmouth to end it, to send that icky-tentacle thing back to Hell. That wasn't supposed to happen! That shouldn't have happened!! You have to do something."
She shrugged, indicating that what had happened in that world was simply what had happened, and nothing more.
"I can't believe it," Cordelia said, "You, of all people, should know how undeserving he is of Hell! Surely there must be some justice in this thing called a multiverse!?"
She glared at her for a moment, then leaned back and looked up at the sky. For a long moment, nothing was said, then Cordelia jumped slightly as she heard a snap, turning her attention to the other in the room. She stood up from the chair and walked over to a shelf, pulled out a book, briskly walked back with a large smile, and presented the book to her.
"The Stand," Cordelia read, "Yes, I know, Stephen King's a great author, but what…wait…you can't possibly mean…"
She nodded, indicating that that was exactly what was meant.
"You're going to send Xander to face Walter," Cordelia demanded, incredulous at the turn of events, "Xander will be killed!"
She stared at her.
"…Ok, so, that's better than Hell, but still," Cordelia stuttered for a moment, before sighing and saying, "It's the only way you'll help him out, isn't it?"
She nodded.
"…Why him," Cordelia asked, beseeching Her, "I mean, he wants to overthrow You!"
God nodded, indicating that She knew Cordelia was right, but turned around and pointed to a wall. It became a television screen instantly, showing Cordelia a world that she was not familiar with.
"…Walter's behind this," Cordelia asked, and She shook Her head, "Then…he takes advantage of it, brings it down," God nodded, frowning, "And you think Xander will be able to stop it," God shrugged.
"I think," Cordelia didn't even jump as the new voice joined the one-sided conversation, "She's doing this to simply appease you, childe."
"The Voice," Cordelia stifled a groan as she greeted him.
"The Mouth," Metatron greeted her sarcastically, sitting himself down on God's desk as he did so, "And just who do you think you are, questioning the will of God?"
God reached out and touched Metatron, causing him to nod in understanding.
"Oh, I see," Metatron said with a small smile of understanding, "You are sticking your nose into other people's business because he's a friend, how lovely."
"Hey, get off your high horse, we make a business of sticking our noses into their business," Cordelia reminded him, "So, this one is a bit personal to me. Like you telling J-Man His destiny wasn't personal?"
Metatron frowned at her, but maintained control as he replied, "Jesus was the savior, not a boy who wound up in a spot of bother!"
"He's a boy who saved the world by damning himself when he would've gotten into Heaven," Cordelia replied, her voice dropping to a dangerously low volume.
God silenced both of them with a look, then pressed 'play' on Her stereo, letting Stairway to Heaven come on as She did so.
"Obviously, She's made Her decision on the matter," Metatron exclaimed, "While I can understand where you come from, childe," Cordelia bristled at the reference to her status in Heaven, "Know that it is not wise to involve yourself in matters which do not concern you."
"The day my friends' well-being doesn't concern me," Cordelia replied, staring at him in contempt as she did so, "Is the day I'll go join the other side!"
With that said, she bowed before the Lord of Lords and walked away.
"…I can see why You like her," Metatron said as he came up to God, "The little girl has a mouth on her, true, but she's got a spirit, and her heart is in the right place."
God nodded, having known that already, enjoying the sound of what She considered to be Her anthem. Granted, it was created by a band who in certain worlds had sold their soles to Lucifer in exchange for fame and wealth and women, but it was still a good song.
"I just hope you know what you're doing," Metatron said with a sigh, staring down at the book, "I mean, sending him to face Walter Padick? The man wants to become You."
God nodded, but expressed no other concern.
"Alright, I trust in You, of course," Metatron commented, "But, I want it on record that I don't think it's a good idea."
God smiled at him, then patted him on the head as one would a dog, but Metatron was not offended at all.
"Ugh, alright," Metatron said, then She disappeared, "Oh, c'mon! It's not even skeeball season yet!"
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It was bright.
That was the first thing that Xander noticed as he began to wake up. Of course, this was nothing new. Hell was very brightly lit, with the fires that came with it. But, no, it wasn't that it was bright that he noticed…it was the light itself. Hell was personified by a hot, red/orange light that reminded him of Sunnydale and spinach, for reasons that escaped him. He always thought it was because both were of Hell.
Groaning out in pain, Xander slowly tried to bring himself to his knees, but found that he did not have the strength to. He shivered slightly, realizing that he was cold. Hell, he found, was never quite this cold.
The light disappeared for a long moment, and he stiffened, recognizing a body for what it was, though he could not bring himself to open his eyes.
"Well," a voice said above him, "Looks like you got yourself into one Hell of a jam, son."
Xander groaned out as he tried to open his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he squinted against the light, the NEW light, and stared at the man above him.
He was tall, with a devilishly handsome face that made Xander both infinitely jealous and very frightened. He was dressed in an outfit composed entirely of jeans, jean pants, a denim jacket with buttons on it (a peace sign, an odd white button with a red Egyptian looking eye on it, and an odd white one with a smiley face on it but that appeared to be bleeding to name a few). He had long, flowing hair that he imagined would be very nice, even in this heat. He lowered his gaze due to the sun and noted the oddly sharp cowboy boots on his feet. He had pamphlets in his pockets sticking out, the first that he could read being promotions for Green Peace and a warning about global warming.
Xander turned his head away as the light became too much for him to bare. The man chuckled and squatted down beside him.
"I appear to be a might bit overdressed, son," the man said cheerfully almost.
"Wha," Xander gasped out, rubbing his throat as he did so, trying to get the soreness out of his body.
The man pointedly looked down, and Xander followed his gaze, finding himself to be totally naked. Neither he, nor his companion, were embarrassed in the least.
"Oh," Xander said.
"Here," the man pulled out a bag and opened it up, revealing a pair of jeans and handing them to him, "Just keep 'em, ya hear."
"…Thanks," Xander said, groaning and laying back down as he did so, "Where am I?"
"Southern California, son," the man said with a laugh, "Don't you know your geography?"
"The date," Xander asked, ignoring the man's humor.
"You're a curious one, ain'cha," the man said, "Today's October 7, 2008."
"…My God," Xander muttered to himself, "It's been almost ten years."
"What's that now," the man asked curiously.
"Nothing," Xander whimpered, "Just…muttering to myself."
He heard the man shrug, and Xander turned his face to look up at him.
"Who are you," Xander asked.
"Well, who are you, son," the man asked with a smile, "I'll tell ya my name if you tell me yours…and why you're naked in the middle of the desert…and why you don't remember the date."
"…Xander Harris," he extended his hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Xander," the man grasped his hand, and Xander immediately felt his entire hand go cold, "Hope you guess my name."
"How can I," Xander asked.
"…Nevermind," the man laughed at some seemingly inside joke, "My name's Flagg…Randall Flagg."