VOICES IN MY HEAD
Chapter 1 – The Eternal Key
She was beautiful. Her face could make a runway supermodel jealous and her tall curvy figure could make a playboy centerfold feel boyish and frumpy. Her hair, makeup and clothes hit that combination of lush beauty and refined dignity that would have made Cordelia proud. She stood out like a shining beacon in the drab and gray airport waiting lounge, her lovely face set in a slight pout as she scanned the room.
Xander stood back a moment just watching her and trying to beat some sense into his suddenly awake libido. Dawn Summers on the cusp of fourteen had been both adorably cute and delightfully bratty. He had enjoyed babysitting her. Dawn Summers on the cusp of twenty-four was a walking, talking dream come true.
One whose overprotective big sister was the strongest human on the planet. Said big sister also happened to beat-up or scare off every suitor Dawn had ever brought home.
Okay, maybe she was a nightmare in disguise.
Especially since he had gone from the status of adored crush, to big brother, to friend-I-knew-back-when in her eyes. She wanted to be his official Watcher, to chronicle his adventures as he went about the planet from mini-apocalypse to mini-apocalypse. She was; he had to admit, practically perfect for the job. She knew a multitude of languages, not all of them human, she was familiar with magic and Slayers and demons of all kinds. She wasn't afraid of him or his job. He also knew that even if she wouldn't admit it, she was looking to get out from under the thumb of Buffy and be her own woman. What she didn't want or need was a beat-up, burned out and paranoid head-case to be lusting after her.
Xander sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.
Plastering a slightly resigned smile on his face, Xander hitched his carryon bag higher up on his shoulder and began to make his way through the milling crowd. He could tell exactly when she noticed him, because her eyes lit up and her lips stretched into a wide and joy filled smile. It was like watching the sun come up.
"Xander!"
He only had a brief moment to gaze in wonder at her and then she was running across the lounge and flinging herself into his wide open arms. He pulled her in tight to him, one hand buried in the soft shimmery length of her hair, the other pressed flat against her back. She was warm and soft and smelled oh so good, like vanilla and flowers after a rain. He felt like a dirty old man for enjoying the way her lush curves pressed against his body and had to resist the urge to take her mouth in a fierce kiss.
Instead he just gave her an extra tight squeeze before letting her go and smiling back at her. He took in her beauty and sheer happiness and let all of his memories of war torn nations and their plagues of starving refugees and rampant diseases fade away with the rest of the dingy airport lounge.
"Gods above and below, Dawn-patrol. You look," he fingered a lock of her hair gently, "amazing."
She grinned and blushed slightly, her eyes sparkling.
"Thanks. So do you." Her gaze turned mildly speculative. "A little tired maybe. And hey," she gestured to his hair, "the cornrows are new."
He chuckled and made a vague gesture towards the exit. She smiled and turned around. He stuck out the elbow closest to her and she wrapped her hand around it and led him through the crowd.
"The cornrows are the brainchild of Kareema," Xander cut his eye to the side to watch Dawn's expressive face; "she's a lovely Slayer from Morocco. I was sent there to help out during an uprising of a clan of Faryal demons."
He didn't tell her that the real reason he had been sent was because one of the Slayers there had been having extreme personal difficulties with an abusive soon-to-be husband. He'd buried the corpse of several intolerant or fanatical male relatives of slayers over the years; one more hadn't made any difference to him.
Dawn nodded her head seriously.
"And this led to cornrows, how?"
Xander chuckled and followed her over to the baggage claim area and began to scout out a cart or some such thing. He wasn't looking forward to hauling around all his luggage and weaponry by hand if he didn't have to.
"Oh, that's simple enough really. Kareema was grabbed by one of the demons. He used her long hair as a handhold. She couldn't get away without ripping a big chuck of her own hair out by the scalp or until the Faryal was dead." He shrugged. "After that, she insisted that everyone either shave their hair off or have it braided down tight against their skull."
Dawn pursed her lips and watched him silently as he wandered over to the far wall and rented a small hand cart. When he returned she had a strange gleam in her eyes.
"Xander… you were in Morocco several months ago. Why the braids still?"
He gazed out into the middle distance and shrugged. "Habit, I suppose." He shook his head to rattle the memories of that time loose and smirked at her. "It doesn't look that bad."
She chuckled and watched as he began to scoop up his luggage one piece at a time and put it on the hand cart.
"Doesn't look bad at all, just…different." She sighed slightly and made a vague gesture in the air. "It makes me think of L.A., actually. It's not a style we saw in the 'dale and it's not something you see here in London. But in L.A. half the people in the streets wore their hair in cornrows, so…" she grinned and shrugged, "exotic for London and a little taste of childhood for me."
He chuckled softly but looked away. He didn't need to have visions in his head of a young pre-teen Dawn riding through L.A. in the back of Joyce's car and bouncing in excitement as she spotted a famous rapper sitting at an outside table at some exclusive club or café. Visions of pre-teen Dawn just messed with his head thanks to the semi hard on he was sporting in her presence. Because of her presence.
To quote Spike, he was a bad rude man. And he was pretty sure that he was going to burn in hell some day because of it.
Finally all of his things had been collected. At least, the stuff that he had brought with him. The majority of his books and weapons had been shipped separately. What he had with him was a mere pittance, but airline security being what it was, it was amazing that he was even able to bring as much as he did. Still, it was all packaged away in boxes and bags and that didn't sit well with him. He wanted to get to wherever they were going and maybe get some sleep. Oh, and food.
He turned towards Dawn and smiled at her. She flashed back a beaming beautiful smile.
"So, where to?"
She waved him towards the east exit and began walking in that direction. He swiveled the hand cart around and followed.
"I'm parked in short-term parking lot C. We'll get the car and I'll take you to one of the Council owned flats on the west side. It's small, but clean and secure."
They walked through the automatic doors and she gestured down the walkway to the left and then pointed to a small three level parking garage diagonally across the small taxi port.
"The power and water have been turned on and I stocked up on some groceries for you." She grinned and nudged him with an elbow, "But I figure that for tonight you'd probably just want a shower, some take out and then some sleep."
He snorted in amusement and nodded.
"Yeah. Pretty much." He elbowed her back gently. "Thanks Dawn."
They reached the crosswalk and started across the narrow street once the thicket of circling taxis slowed down enough to let them cross. Dawn's hand on his arm squeezed gently once in acknowledgement and she flashed him a quick grin.
"I know that everyone has been making 'you need a rest' type noises at you and Willow is convinced that you are on the edge of burnout and so she's been baking cookies like mad. Giles gets this dark and guilty look every time your name is mentioned and Buffy is convinced that pairing you off with me will force you into semi-retirement or something."
Xander winced. Phin's email had hinted at just that, but Dawn was blunt as always. She had learned to call 'em like she saw 'em from Anya.
"Uh, Dawn." Xander cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. "While I'm not saying that a vacation isn't a good thing. Needed, even. 'Cause I am really looking forward to a bit of down time, but I'm not ready for retirement. Not even semi-retirement."
He stopped at the door to the parking garage and gave her a steady look.
"Buffy and Willow haven't been out in the field for years. I know that they still patrol around London or whatever city they happen to be in, but they spend most of their time either training others or doing research." He shrugged again, but he looked over her shoulder and gazed into the middle distance seeing something that was more memory and thought then substance. "That's great and wonderful and very needed, but I'm not ready for that yet."
His eye swung to meet hers, hoping to impress his seriousness on her.
"I can't be. I need to keep my fighting edge sharp or I'm going to be killed. I don't have centuries of experience and The Game will catch up to me if I don't keep my skills up."
She frowned at him as if she wanted to argue, but couldn't.
"If you really want to be my Watcher, that's fine. Just know that I am going to drag you to some of the most hellish spots on earth and get you embroiled in deadly combat against demons and vampires and evil Immortals." He tried to grin at her and knew that it didn't come across as reassuring in the least. "It's not just what I do, Dawn. It's who I am."
She looked at him, searchingly, for a long moment. Then she nodded once and gave a small wry smile.
"I know."
Then she turned back to the parking garage and tugged lightly on his arm.
"Come on. Let's get you to the Council flat and get you fed."
They walked into the building and headed towards the banks of elevators at the end of the row. Their footsteps echoed hollowly off of the cement and the dim florescent lighting flickered and hummed overhead. Xander let his eye scan the cavernous ground level of the parking garage and noted all of the deep shadows and stark glares of light. Lots of little nooks and crannies for the baddies to hide in. He suddenly felt painfully naked and his eye flicked over to the sealed box with his personal weaponry packed away inside.
Once at the elevator, Dawn pressed the up button and it didn't take more than a few seconds for the doors to bing and open. They shuffled inside with Xander dragging his hand cart behind him. The doors shut and Dawn pressed the button for level three.
"I guess I should warn you that while almost everyone is going to treat this as a vacation for you, Adam has other plans."
"Oh?" One of Xander's eyebrows rose up.
Adam Pierson was an enigma. He was Dawn's direct supervisor, yes, but he had come to the Slayer branch of the Watchers Council from the Immortal branch. Apparently, he had been a researcher working on a very old chronicle when he had been killed. Surprisingly, he had woken up as an Immortal.
He had been dismissed from his position immediately, of course. The Council couldn't have an Immortal for a Watcher because it messed with their non-interference policy. At least, as far as The Game went. Adam wasn't stupid however and he sought out a fairly famous and highly regarded Immortal as a teacher.
At that point, he traveled around a bit. He did some work doing translations and taught a few classes at one or two universities. Mostly, he trained and traveled at loose ends. It was a commonly held opinion that Adam had been so shocked by becoming Immortal that he had lost focus and direction in his life.
It was at that point that the First declared its war against the Slayers and the Council. Fortunately, it only targeted the Slayers branch and left the Immortal branch alone. In the aftermath of the First, Sunnydale imploding and the activation of all the potentials, Giles wrested control of the Slayers branch of the Council from the hands of the other survivors. When it became painfully clear that there were too many Slayers and not nearly enough Watchers, he put in a call to the Immortal branch. They sent a few of their researchers and called a few field agents out of retirement.
And they had reactivated Adam Pierson and sent him to London.
Unfortunately, Xander didn't buy his story at all. Not that Adam wasn't a damn good researcher nor was he a slouch in the languages department. He came across all mild mannered and easily flustered. Until you looked in his eyes.
Xander had lived his life in a war-zone since the age of fifteen. He knew a fellow survivor when he saw one. There was far more to Adam than he let on.
Yet he was also the closest thing Xander had to a teacher as far as the Immortal stuff went. Xander, unlike most Immortals, hadn't even realized what he was or that he had died at one point until he'd been challenged. The Quickening had been a bit of a shock. Oh, he'd known about Immortals on an intellectual level, but he'd never given it much thought nor had he ever met one.
A single phone call to Giles had been all it took. A day later, Adam was on a plane and heading out to meet him. They had spent several months bouncing around Africa hunting down Slayers and averting demonic and vampiric troubles. In between all of that had been history lessons, sword and axe fighting lessons, lessons in how to hide from mortal police and Immortal headhunters and lessons in how to hide the bodies.
No, Xander didn't buy the mild mannered book-geek act at all.
"Yeah." Dawn rolled her eyes and smirked, dragging Xander back out of his thoughts. "He mentioned something about teaching you how to create a false identity, most likely one with a complete background and enough credibility to stand up to an Interpol investigation."
She snorted in amused exasperation. "Adam loves details."
He mock frowned at her.
"Damn. And here I was hoping for lots of beer and a few rounds of darts."
"That too." Her grin was wry and her eyes danced with humor.
It was only the fact that the elevator doors opened at that moment that kept Xander from leaning over and kissing Dawn then and there. She was just so beautiful and full of life and laughter after all of the pain, darkness and war that he'd seen.
He followed her out of the elevator and partway down the row of parked cars. He was silently musing on how badly Buffy would hurt him if he made his interest in Dawn known. He knew that she wouldn't kill him. Probably. And if she did he was certain that it would be worth it.
A soft scuffing noise and a brief glimpse of a fleeting shadow out of the corner of his eye caught Xander's attention, but when he turned to look, nothing was there. He paused for a moment and tried to stare deeper into the shadows. Dawn stopped as well and peered around him to try and figure out what he was looking at.
"Xander, what?"
Her voice seemed loud in the empty gloom and he answered with a whisper.
"I don't know. Thought I heard something, but…"
Dawn took a deep breath, closed her eyes and chanted softly under her breath. Moments later she stopped and glanced up at him, concern etched on her face.
"I can't sense any magic or demonic energy." A small frown turned her lips down at the corners. "Can you feel an Immortal near by?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't even have to concentrate; it hits me like a club to the back of the head if an Immortal gets too close. I don't feel anything, though."
He stared deeper into the gloom for another minute and then turned to look at Dawn. There was still worry in her face and eyes, but it was different now. It wasn't the concern one had when they were facing a threat. It was concern for him. The words 'paranoid' and 'burnout' flashed through his mind and for the first time he actually wondered if they might be right.
"I'm not crazy."
Her smile was sad, the weight of years and memories in her eyes.
"I never thought that you were."
Still, when he went to turn back and investigate the noise he'd heard, she tugged gently at his arm in the opposite direction.
"Come on. My car is parked just over there. Let's get you home."
He almost argued, but getting some food and rest sounded great. And honestly, he wanted to date Dawn, not have her look at him with a mix of sadness and pity over what a crazy psycho he'd become. In the end he merely cast one last look into the shadows and then nodded and followed her to the car.
Reaching into her pocket, Dawn pulled out her car keys. She pushed a little button on the key-ring and the car's lights flashed, throwing up odd shadows and the alarm beeped twice as it disengaged. Another button and the trunk of the slightly battered BMW swung up.
Something still felt off, but he didn't bring it up. Not when it was fairly obvious that Dawn was worried about his stress levels or something like that. He tried not to remember that he was here in London because he'd manage to terrify his last Watcher into demanding reassignment. He also tried to ignore that sense of something wrong and gave Dawn a slightly forced smile as he began to unload his luggage into her trunk.
She watched him for a moment and then held out her hand for his carryon. His smile melted into something a bit more genuine and he handed it over to her and picked up the next case. She grinned back and turned away towards the drivers' side of the car. He had a brief mental twitch over the steering wheel being on the wrong side and wondered how many times Giles had thought just that back in the 'dale.
"Hey there ducks. Be a pet and hand over your purse and jewelry, yeah?"
The voice was scratchy from too many cigarettes and slightly wobbly with nerves and false bravado. Despite the scratchy abused quality to the voice, Xander was sure the guy was young. Young, scared and probably desperate.
And Dawn was standing between him and the voice.
For a brief second, Xander contemplated sneaking around the car in the other direction and coming up behind the guy. That plan was put to rest shortly though.
"You too, mate. Out from behind the boot. We're all friends here. Just want your dosh." Xander shifted out from behind the car. "And possibly your watch as well."
He was just a kid, sixteen or seventeen years old. He was thin as a rail and wearing dirty clothes. His face was unshaven and he smelled of drugs, alcohol and filth. He had a crazed glint in his eyes and he held a gun in his shaking hands.
And Dawn was still standing between him and the kid.
He tried to slowly inch his way towards her. If he could get close enough he could slip in front of Dawn and use his own body as a shield. The bullets would hurt if the kid shot him, but that was no big deal. They'd kill Dawn. He had survived worse things than a couple of holes blasted through him before and he most likely would survive worse in the future.
"There's a good girl. Toss the loot over."
Xander wished he could mentally tell Dawn to slowly back up and tried to inch a little closer.
"Uh…just stay calm…" Xander nodded his head. Muggings he could do. No problem. As long as Dawn didn't get hurt. Xander shifted slightly, but the kid kept the gun pointed at Dawn instead of turning it towards him like he hoped. "Sure. Hand over your wallet Dawn. I've got mine as well."
She stilled for a minute and he silently hoped that she wouldn't argue. Then she nodded and reached for the zipper of her purse even as Xander slid his wallet out of his pocket.
"Hey! Special Ed."
The jittery mugger glared over at Xander and he held up the wallet. He coiled himself up ready to spring. He figured that he'd throw the wallet with one hand and push Dawn to the ground with the other. While the kid tried to catch the wallet, Xander would tackle him to the ground and try to remember not to kill him.
The best laid plans of mice and men never had to deal with Dawn Summers, however.
As soon as Xander began to toss the wallet, the mugger twisted so that the gun was pointing right at Xander. He noticed that but didn't really care. Before he could push Dawn aside though, she went straight into a panic. With a ringing shout of denial, she leapt in front of him in some heroic and needless effort to save him.
Two shots rang out, the loud retort echoing hollowly off of the concrete.
The blood in Xander's veins turned to ice water as Dawn began to crumple even as her body was flung backwards into him, knocking him off balance. Adrenaline rushed into his system so fast that for a second he felt high. Reacting on instinct, he caught Dawn and pulled her into his arms even as he slid down to the ground with her. A memory in his head was screaming out first aid instructions in a drill sergeant's voice about putting pressure on the wound and CPR.
A different voice was distracting him, however, by yelling in a horrible rasp about 'bloody bints' and 'it's all bullocks now'. He didn't think about it, his head just snapped up and he growled at the kid junkie. It was a sound that was more hyena than human. The kid's face paled and he brought the gun up again. Xander had barely shifted his weight to move Dawn when a flash of light erupted from the barrel. Pain exploded in his chest.
Xander gasped even as his body was pushed back and onto the ground from the force of the bullet. His voice whispered out a breathy, "Fucker shot me," before his vision dimmed and he knew he was dying again.
Life rushed in with a gasp of breath that filled his lungs and swamped his reviving brain with oxygen. He had no clue where he was or what had been happening, only that his chest had a phantom ache. He groaned and opened his eye.
"Sweet Lord in Heaven."
The prayer that reached his ear was practically shrieked with fear and was accompanied by frantic scrambling away from him. Turning his head to face the noise, Xander saw a dirty thin kid in raggedy clothing crab-walking away and staring at him as if he were the devil himself.
He shot me.
Another memory surfaced and he turned his head to see Dawn's corpse lying in a small puddle of blood, the contents of her purse scattered around her. He turned back to the kid to see that he was frantically trying to find his feet and escape the dead man that just woke up.
Xander smiled at him. It wasn't a nice smile and death simmered in his one dark eye.
Growling in the back of his throat, Xander rolled to his feet and lunged. The kid let out a high pitched squeal and wet his jeans. Xander barely noticed. He was too focused on the feel of his large axe roughened hands gripping either side of the junkie's head. A feral grin grew across his face when the kid began to recite the Lord's Prayer.
"God doesn't live here."
The kid whimpered and Xander twisted his hands with a sharp jerk. The loud cracking sound that reached his ears merged with the sensation of bones giving way beneath his hands. Xander snorted his disgust at the corpse he help up and then tossed the body to the ground in bitter dismissal.
Turning around, he saw Dawn lying there and nearly collapsed under the weight of the pain he felt. He hurried over to her and dropped to his knees. Reaching out one shaking hand, he gently pushed several gleaming strands of hair out of her beautiful face.
"Why? Why did you jump in front of me, sweetie?" He practically sobbed. "I would have lived."
A tear slid out of his good eye and rolled down his cheek. He was almost amazed that he could still cry. He hadn't done so since Anya died, but Dawn was worth it. She was more than worth his tears. Gently, he cupped her face with his hand and damned himself for not being faster, better, smarter. She shouldn't have died. Not now. And not like this.
He wasn't sure how long he kneeled there beside the dead woman he was certain he could have fallen in love with when he noticed an odd tingling beneath the hand on her cheek. Then the little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a sense of dread washed up over him that was born from years of terror on the Hellmouth.
Something was coming for him and it was going to hurt like a bitch.
It started with a soft rumble of thunder that was felt more than heard and was followed by the dimming of the overhead florescent lights. A pale green mist seemed to roll in from everywhere and nowhere, obscuring his already poor vision.
Some instinct in his head screamed at him to run, to just get up off of his knees and run until he died from exhaustion because there was no way in hell that he was going to like what happened next. But he couldn't run; he couldn't even stand up. All of his muscles were locked in place and he trembled at the mystical power he could feel building around him.
Dawn began to glow a soft vibrant green. He franticly tried to tell himself it was a trick of the light, but he knew deep down that it wasn't. It was something else entirely. And all the while, the green glow became brighter and brighter. The glow practically vibrated with energy and power as it slowly pulled up out of Dawn and away from her body. It hovered over her and slowly twisted into a big floating ball of pulsing green energy.
It seemed to Xander like the most gentle and peaceful Quickening he'd ever seen. But that couldn't be, because Dawn wasn't an Immortal. He'd never once sensed anything like that about her. And even if she had been Immortal, she still had her head. So he didn't have any idea why she would have a Quickening.
He was so confused and frightened, angry and heartbroken. This was just another strange thing that he didn't want or need, but he'd fight whatever this glowy thing was for Dawn's body. She deserved a proper funeral.
And then he got it. He realized just what it was he was seeing and it terrified him.
Dawn was the Key. The former glowing green ball of inter-dimensional hijinks for Glorificus type Key.
But now Dawn was dead.
And the Key was eternal.
Xander had half a moment to goggle at the royal fuck up that those idiot monks had created in their unthinking panic and then the Key pulsed very bright, bright enough to nearly blind him. He reached up to try and shield his eye, but his hand never made it further than five inches before the Key shot forward and slammed into his forehead.
Pain exploded through his brain and then down his spine. He'd been electrified by heavy power lines and powerful Quickenings. This felt like neither and at the same time a little bit like both. His body slammed up and away from Dawn and into her old BMW hard enough to leave a large dent in the rear quarter panel. He knew on one level that he was twitching and flopping about, but he was mostly concentrating on not screaming his throat raw as the pain tore through him.
Reality began to waver in and out and he tumbled to the concrete in a rush of vertigo. Shaky and twitchy from the slowly receding agony, Xander pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and emptied his stomach. He heaved until there was nothing else to bring up and then collapsed backwards onto his ass and tried to crawl away and back over to Dawn.
His vision wobbled wildly and he trembled as he began to hallucinate strange lights and pulses of energy. Voices began to rumble inside his head and he wasn't exactly sure who he was as strange memories began to play behind his eyes. Finally he crumbled to the ground and twitched violently with sparks of pain and madness.
He wasn't sure how long he stared at the small bit of plastic and metal before he realized what it was. Grunting, he reached out and grabbed Dawn's cell phone and flipped it open. He trembled and his vision kept wavering in and out, but he stubbornly rode the waves of vertigo and unreality until he could pull up the address book.
Giles.
He pressed the send button and lifted the phone to his ear and prayed.
"This is Rupert Giles."
Xander almost sobbed with relief.
"Giles." His voice was a harsh and shaky whisper.
"Xander? Is that you, my boy?" Giles' voice had gone from coldly business-like to warm in an instant. "Didn't Dawn arrive at the airport to greet you?"
"Giles. Hurry. Attacked. Dawn's dead. The Key, Giles. The Key."
There was a horrifying silence as Xander spoke words he would gleefully commit murder to take back.
"Airport. Garage C. Third level."
"Dear Lord. Dawn…." Giles' voice hitched painfully on the last word.
"Hurry, G-man."
Then the darkness of oblivion rose up in him and swallowed him whole. He knew nothing more and so he didn't hear his one-time mentor shouting his name into the phone.