Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is the original writer/creator of all that is Buffy, and Mutant Enemy also holds those rights. Heroes is Tim Krings brainchild and since that's not my name I sadly can not claim to own it.
Summary: Two different hidden worlds are about to collide, when an old god, a modern day geneticist, a serial killer, a crazy cult and a shady company all concentrate their attention on one small boy. Reborn to save the world, Alexander, formerly known as Xander Harris, struggles with both a new life, old memories and a demonic sect, that has declared him to be the avatar of their God. Trying to stay ahead from the company, keeping his parents from killing each other and hiding from his devout priests is hard enough, but the world is going to end... soon and he's only five years old.
Authors Note: To fit the Buffy-timeline with the Heroes-timeline, I moved the events of Buffy back a little. Buffy starts one year earlier, so the episodes "Seeing Red" and "Grave" happened in 2001, so that reborn little Xander would be five in 2006.
The Janus-Child by Simone of the Zordiak
Chapter One: Opening Gambit
October 17. 2006 - Odessa, Texas
Alexander was bored. Ever since the horny-glasses man had brought the new "guest" none of the people, who were working here, had time to play with him anymore. Little Xander thought it a bit strange, for even when the scary voices lady had brought the man with the cool paints here, there had still been time for a game or two. But the painting man had gone home and when he'd asked about the scary voices lady, he'd been told that she would never come back. That was a pity, because inspite of the scary voices the lady could make, she still had always been nice to him and had taught him many games to play. He'd cried for a while when he'd learned that she would not come back again, but crying became exhausting after a while and he still had nothing to do and nobody to play with. So now he was playing on his own, sitting quietly in a corner of the room, apparently drawing on a piece of paper. At least that was how it looked like to the adults. Xander had learned rather quickly that he was practically invisible to the eyes of adult when it looked like he was quietly playing on his own. And the adults were always talking about the most interesting things when they did not notice him.
Xander blinked as he listed to the two white-cloaks conversation, trying not to frown too much as he tried to decipher the big-people words the two grownups used. He was pretty sure that they were talking about him, something about the strange new "guest", his abilities in comparison to him? Something too complicated to understand. The voices grew fainter and then there was the sound of the door falling into the lock. Xander looked up and realised that they had left him alone in the room. He smirked. Now he could explore and find out what the stupid grownups had meant.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Those that enjoyed reading books like the Lord of the Rings would compare the Enlil-Fiachra to the Eldar, Tolkiens ethereal Firstborn, but unlike them, the Enlil-Fiachra were quite real. They were tall and graceful, with long flowing hair and pointed ears, strong in mind, body and magic. A long time ago they had fled from their own plane of existence, settling down in magical created subdimensions all over the globe. The few Watchers that had ever seen them described them as honourable, wise and very religious. They also mentioned that while the Enlil-Fiachra didn't believe in starting violence, they were very good at putting an end to those that tried to bring their wars to them. Which was also the reason why the Watches simply left them alone. The life of the Enlil-Fiachra was warped around their religion. They spent a lot of their time with meditation and self-finding rituals, for they wanted to be worthy when they entered the Temple of the Trinity. Their pantheon contained three main entities: The Mother Dark, the Father Light and the Son that is Balance. Most Enlil-Fiachra prayed to a simple threefold symbol, but there were some that were more. The seers of the Trinitytemple were able to gaze behind the veil of dimensions. They dreamed the past and riddled the future, always in balance with their Gods. That would change this day.
-o-o-o-o-o-
October 17. 2006 - New York, NY
He was sitting there, watching as Mohinder devoured the crickets he'd put into his tank. Not for the first time he wondered just why his father had named the lizard after him. Chandra had not wanted him to come to New York and yet, one of the first things his father had done after coming here was buying a lizard and naming it after him. For a moment he felt irrational jealousy well up inside of him, his father had needed a Mohinder, but he had not called, had not written, no he had replaced his son with a lizard.
Mohinder sighed as he stood up and walked back to his desk. It wasn't the lizards fault that it was sharing his name, that had been his fathers idea. And it wasn't his own fault that his father had always been distant to him, but he couldn't fault his sister with dying... that had been fate, cruel, clean and simple. His thoughts were starting to circle around and the algorithm so prominently displayed on his laptop started to swim before his eyes. He knew that if he didn't stop now, did not get some sleep, he would have a murderous headache later. Driving a cab in New York was stressful enough and he had no desire to cause an accident just because his brain felt three numbers too big for his head.
He let his eyes roam through the room, stopping at the map, so proudly and dangerously displaying the names his father had already found. He really should take it down and yet, it also was his fathers work, his testament in a way. Every time he'd attempted to dig the pins out of the map he, felt like he was attempting to destroy something sacred. Mohinder rubbed his eyes. The map would still be there tomorrow and he was not doing himself any favours by staying awake any longer. Tomorrow, he would try and contact the people on the list, they needed to be warned. Tomorrow.
-o-o-o-o-o-
October 18. 2006 - Odessa, Texas
The tranquillisers were slowly wearing of. He could feel the cottony numbness receding from his limbs. How long had they kept him under this time? And what had they done to him while he was unconscious? He sat up, slowly, wincing minutely as his naked feet touched the cold cement of the floor. Carefully he checked over his body, making note of several cuts and holes that looked like they had used some bigger needles than the tiny pinprick needle-holes of the tranquilliser. The shunt was still there, but it did not feel like it had been used in the last few hours so they had left his brain in peace this time.
The lights went on and he blinked and turned around, ready for another round of verbal battle with the father of his next victim. He enjoyed watching the man that had imprisoned him here winding himself with every barb he fired against him and his daughter.
But there were no man with horn-rimmed glasses, nor the doctor who had drugged him during the last few days. No, it was a boy, a little boy standing in front of his window. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the boy remained standing there. He couldn't be very old, he estimated him to be between four and six years and with his dark-caramel skin and black curls the child was of at least partial Indian descent. And there was something else, something familiar about that boy. Special..., he could feel it ticking inside of him, the boy was special. So close to him and yet, right now, unreachable. Sylar stepped closer to the window to get a better look at his guest when he noticed something else, something very strange. He felt no desire to kill the boy. Normally he would already be ticking with excitement by now, but this boy didn't feel defect, did not scream out to him to be fixed. What had the doctors done to him? Had they robbed him of his ability to evolve? He thought about the one that got away, the blonde cheerleader and he could feel the need raising up inside of him. Then he turned back to the boy and the need was gone, like a light switched off. So it was not his ability, but the boy. How very interesting. The child stepped closer to his window and now it was only the glass that separated the two of them. For the first time he noticed that the boy was holding something in his hands, a few pieces of paper. Actually he was clutching them like a lifeline and Sylar couldn't help but feel curious about it.
Then it looked like the child was making a decision. He pressed the topmost paper against the glass for him to read.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Xander's heart was beating so fast and so loud that he was surprised that nobody had noticed him already. But he had to do it. It was his only chance of running away from here. Ever since he had found out the truth yesterday his mind had hatched escape-plan after escape-plan, but he knew that the grownups would become very suspicious, if they saw a kid of his age travelling without another grownup. So he had made his final plan, had factored in an willing adult and he knew it would work. Well, if this adult was really willing. But he was rather hopeful. After all, he was his parent.
-o-o-o-o-o-
He had read the information twice already and was reading the paper in front of him for the third time, still disbelieving what his own ability was showing him to be the truth. It fit, everything. That was the reason why he didn't want to kill the boy, Alexander. He had the same power as he did, was his offspring. His to take care of, his to protect, to teach, to form. And it also explained why the people here had kept him alive so far. If they found out how his ability was working, then they could induce the same thing with Alexander, could give him the healing power Sylar had so desperately sought and then... he shuddered at the mental image of his son being drained dry of his blood, only to heal again and again, to endure a painful death repeatedly for the precious antibodies in his blood. That was worse than what he did to his own victims. Sure, he was very aware that what he was doing was not very socially accepted, but at least his victims did not suffer for long. He was quick and very clean when he murdered his victims, for the last thing he could do was garanting them a fairly short and therefore fairly painless death. But this, this was long planned out torture and he would not allow this to happen.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Noah Bennett starred in disbelieve at the empty cell. Somehow, during the early morning hours, when he should still have been under the influence of enough tranquillisers to keep him under for three days, Gabriel Gray had managed to be awake and aware enough, to carefully remove the security-glass out of the frame and to escape. And not only to escape, but to raid their laboratory and stores and kidnap the most important part of their longest running experiment. It was a disaster. Sylar had stolen quite a number of very important documents and files, enough to wreck havoc all over the world if he so desired. His daughter was in danger again, his Janus-Child kidnapped and the Company was not known for being generous with those who failed them.
-o-o-o-o-o-
On the road
He had stolen a car and switched the plates, then had repeated the process a few times to make sure that they wouldn't be found by an overeager Highway patrol, then he'd started driving eastwards. Alexander was sleeping in the back, head on a pillow and carefully covered with a blanked he'd bought in the last little town they'd driven through. It would take him two or maybe even three days, if he was careful, to reach New York and his little boys other parent. Sylar smirked as he drove down a seemingly endless looking Highway.
"Well, Doctor Suresh, here we come."
End chapter one