The one good thing about being in a crowd was that the constant chatter all around prevented Xander from hearing the sound of his foot nervously tapping on the floor. Sitting in the middle of NYU's cafeteria, he sipped from his burning coffee, not reacting to the pain it caused; the cup trembled in his hands. He couldn't shake off the state the visions had left him in, and now he had the worst tremors he'd gotten in years. He almost jumped up when Katrina and Sanaz suddenly sat down by his side.
"Hey," started Sansaz, "What's wrong California? You look jumpy."
"Nothing, just… I don't know," he responded looking down at his coffee and taking another gulp.
"Oh, can I have sip?" asked Katrina, tasting Xander's coffee and quickly giving the cup back to him, her face distorted in pain. "Hot!!! How can you drink that?"
"Huh, what?" asked Xander snapping out of a moment of daze and confusion.
"The coffee, its boiling."
"Oh, that. You get use to it, fire, heat, it's not the worst pain you can imagine," he answered, taking another large sip.
"Okay, that's a little too S&M for me," said Sanaz, Xander suddenly standing up, he looked horrified staring in the distance. "Huh, I didn't mean that in a bad way, don't get all messed up… S&M is good it's … a way of…"
Xander had stopped listening to Sanaz somewhere around "okay"; he stared off into the crowd having an eerie feeling of being watched. He caught a glimpse of a red head moving rapidly through the circulation of busy students, disappearing and reappearing intermittently into view as the flow of students obstructed his vision. As hard as he tried, he couldn't get a good look at her face, concentrating all his effort on tracking her through the confusing environment. The eerie feeling subsided, being replaced instead by one of embarrassment, it was unlikely, and it was obviously his imagination. He chucked the whole thing on still being shaken from the day's earlier incident and was about to forget about the whole deal when the red head came to a full stop near the exit to the cafeteria. She slowly spun around and Xander's fears were confirmed. Willow stood some 20 meters away from him, her face untouched by any bluishness or traces of undeath, looking as alive as she ever had. She smiled sadly at him, her lips speaking a silent message, "I woke in sweat and saw a grave man, holding my lover's bloodied hand."
The coffee spread across the table as if it were a wave pushed onto a gray veneer beach. The plastic cover surfed along with the current, the empty paper cup rolling around at the source. Xander was bolting across the cafeteria, pushing his way through the crowd.
"Xander, where are you going!" yelled out Katrina, her and Sanaz taking after him but with more care and regard toward the people Xander had rudely pushed aside or knocked off their feet. They watched from afar as he disappeared outside the cafeteria, hesitating for a moment in the door, then sprinting right.
Turning around another corner, only to realize he had lost her once again, gave Xander the feeling that someone or something was playing games with him, that feeling was only reinforced as he spotted her once more across quite a distance, smiling at him again. The closer he came, the faster she disappeared, ducking around a corner into nothingness, suddenly reappearing further back along the way Xander had came, then heading in the opposite direction. This insane game of cat and mouse continued through the halls of NYU, Katrina and Sanaz catching up sporadically with the proverbial demand to know what Xander was chasing so frantically. He didn't respond though, a mad look on his face, his eyes spoke of fear and obsession.
"Willow!" he yelled at the top of his lungs and she turned somewhere at the end of a hallway, half the students doing the same, looking questioningly at Xander. She threw an evil smile at him and then turned around again, this time standing in place, her back to him. He tore down the hallway, Sanaz and Katerina following breathlessly behind him. This time, Willow did not move as he got closer and closer, his heartbeat rising with every step. Finally, he reached her.
"Willow!" he said breathlessly as he wheeled the young stupefied girl around. Xander was suddenly filled with embarrassment. The young woman had Willow's built and her red hair, but the similarity ended there.
"Let go, Jerk!" the girl said, slapping at Xander's iron grip on her arm. Xander was almost catatonic, staring emptily at her trying helplessly to break free, until he suddenly released her without ever attempting an apology of any form. She quickly stormed off, quite vexed as Xander's two friends finally joined him.
"Would… that… be… Willow?" asked Sanaz leaning on her knees as she caught her breath. He never responded, his face instead twitching with anger, his head turning slowly toward his left.
He heard laughter, a deep baritone laughter that could only belong to Asmodeus, and sure enough the Archdemon stood proudly to his left, still sipping his bloodwine. "Having female issues again, Mr.Harris?"
"Asmodeus!" roared. Xander as he grabbed him with his left hand and shoved him hard against the wall. The Archdemon was still laughing, the flames pouring out of his left eye socket danced to that baroque rhythm. "You're doing this to me!"
Katrina and Sanaz wrapped their arms around Xander, powerless to pull him off the poor kid who was choking under the weight of the forearm pressed against his throat. "Jesus! Snap out of it Xan," yelled Katrina to no avail. She could no more reason with the frenzied madman her friend had become than the two girls could move him off the poor kid.
"Stop playing with my mind!" yelled Xander. "I'll kill you, Asmodeus, I swear! Look at my face! Look at my face! I am your death!"
"Xander!" yelled Katrina before slapping him hard in the face, bringing him suddenly back to reality. He released his grip on the kid just as he was about to turn blue, and backed away horrified and confused.
"What the hell is going on with you? You didn't get your fix of violence today?" asked Sanaz with an angry tone. Katrina tried to look sympathetic but was too shock by what had just transpired to make it convincing. She couldn't believe that had just a few more moments passed and Xander would have killed the student that was now kneeing on the floor trying to recover his breath. Students all around stared curiously at the event.
"I… I…" stuttered Xander, his hand covering his eyes. "… need a drink."
Before Katrina could protest, Xander had taken off down the hallway at a speed the two winded women couldn't hope to keep up with.
"Is this a male thing I don't know about," asked Sanaz, "Like a violent-er version of PMS or something?"
Somewhere amidst the crowd of students, the hooded witch observed secretly. She smiled again, a sense of satisfaction growing in her. It was just the beginning, soon, she would start the real show and Xander Harris would understand the real meaning of the word suffering. Unbeknownst to her, a dark-haired slayer observed her from further down the corridor, hatred in her glare.
His hand trembled as he caressed the polymer casing of his Smith and Wesson SW99. He stared emptily at the black oxide finish of the handgun as he slowly loaded a clip manually with just his left hand. Sliding in .40 caliber rounds one after the other to the clips capacity of ten rounds. Images were flashing back to Xander as he sat on the living room couch of the place he had came to call home for the last two years, however it felt nothing like it at the moment.
The visions had plagued Xander everywhere he had went; they had followed him all day. They simply would not relent. They would pause occasionally, only to return once he let himself relax for a moment. He had no clue as to what was happening exactly, but he knew for sure that this thing was rapidly robbing him of any sanity he had left.
Images and old feelings were returning on their own now, as if to compound his suffering. He remembered Willow that dreadful day, where his life had been changed forever, and all the events that had led up to that moment.
"So… when are you two going to have the wedding? Because if you have the wedding in spring that would be so romantic, but its not like I want you to wait, because I'm like super happy for you, so if you want to do it sooner that's cool too, but then again, spring has all these positive energies and…" asked Willow, a little too cheerily, trying to overcompensate for the mixed feelings she had about her childhood crush getting married to Anya. She felt happy for him, and had acquired a moderate liking to the ex-demon lately, not to mention the total devotion she felt for Tara, but it was still a giant chunk of emotionally charged news. It seemed to put a lot of definitive answers on a lot of "maybes" and "ifs", and finality was never something easily swallowed, especially where the heart was involved.
"Next month," interrupted Anya excitedly. She and Xander stood hand in hand before the whole group, having summoned them at the Magic Box to announce the good news. "And no need to fear, it is going to be perfectly traditional. And by that I mean Xander is going to purchase many expensive things that we don't really need, but nonetheless are testament of our love."
"Euh… how many expensive things are we talking about here, and when did I take a leave of my sanity to agree to this? I mean can't our love be enough; must you cheapen it with false idols of modern society? Didn't you learn anything from watching "Fight Club" last night?" asked Xander hopeful this scheme somehow would work.
"I learned that poor people are really angry and fight a lot. Also that being a slave to corporate logos and other economically engineered tradition is essential to being a good law-abiding citizen of the good old U.S. of A."
"Anya, that was so totally not the idea of the movie…"
"See," she said cheerily, turning back toward the dumbfounded group. "This the part where Xander complains because it's all so expensive, just like in all those movies I've seen. Soon, we should start bickering because Xander, since he's the male, has nothing to say and must abide to any purchase I, the bride, request. He's going to make a futile attempt at gaining some control of the situation, not realizing that in the process he's only further aggravating me into buying more expensive things, and then comes the part where I yell "You care more about money than me!" and then the wedding jitters and so on and so on. I love this getting married stuff!"
"Well this is all lovely children," said Spike as he pushed himself off the table, taking a big whiff of his cigarette, "but I don't see why any of this bloody thing required me to come all the way down here, when I could be all cozy at home, watching some old tapes of passion over a pint of blood. Instead I get to watch a re-run of "The overbearing and the whipped" over here."
"Oh! Whipping!" exclaimed Anya, "that's a thing I read somewhere you might enjoy, Xander. Thank you for reminding me, Spike."
"Again and always with the disturbing visual image, Anya," said Buffy in a disgusted tone.
"Anyways," continued Xander uncomfortably, "You had to be here, Spike, because there's a reason, it's not one of those "must or the world will be sucked into hell" reasons but, you know. Please don't think I'm trying to avoid the issue… even though it's blatantly evident I am."
"Well, c'mon, spill mate, I haven't got all night, here."
"What Xander is trying to say," continued Anya, "is that in view of your recent acceptance as a productive member of this group, and Xander's small, but growing feeling of friendship…"
"Whoa, I believe I said understanding, not friendship-- understanding," corrected Xander to no avail.
"… of male bonding between you two, in a nonsexual way of course, thought that could be arranged…"
"Honey! Drifting…"
"Oh, yes! Well with that and the obvious fact you are the only male person available, we thought of you as a suitable choice for the best man position. Which includes trying to dissuade him from going through with this and throwing him a very sexually oriented bachelor party, which is alright, because I am both confident and totally not jealous."
"Me?" asked Spike incredulously, a look on his face that was shared from all within the room. "What's wrong Monkey Boy, don't you have any bleedin' friends at work? Where's the hate?"
"Oh! Oh! It's still there, I swear, see!" said Xander as if he were nervously apologizing, his hands signaling repeatedly between them. "See there's the hate, there's plenty of hate and disgust, I swear, it's all good."
"You sure? 'Cause I wouldn't want you to fake it. I mean you owe it to me to at least say it to my face."
"Oh… no, no, no. I still hate you, believe me, I will always hate you… Evil Dead."
"Thanks that…means a lot to me, 'cause… I… wouldn't want it any other way. 'Cause… I hate you too and all. Want to dig my fangs and drink you dry, bloody right," responded Spike uncomfortably.
"So we agree, hate it is."
"Agreed, but are you sure? Me? I'm not your garden variety best man, I mean what about all the times I tried to kill you?"
"I figured since you and me pretty much saved the world by throwing Doc off that platform, I figure I'll let bygones be bygones. Anybody who helps me save my favorite Dawnster's life, is okay in my book… but still… hate."
"I don't know, mate?"
"Oh!" intervened Anya, "Xander also said it might be a good idea because it would piss off somebody called "Deadboy". I don't know who that person is but it sounded like something fun to do." Xander suddenly felt uneasy as he caught a glimpse of Buffy's evil glare on him. Spike's face on the other hand lit up like a Christmas tree.
"I'll do it! You got yourself a best man, Monkey Boy."
"Good," said Giles in a vexed tone, sipping from his tea. "Since Spike is the only suitable male present, I suppose it's a… wise choice."
"Oh Giles…" said Xander even more apologetic, "no… I mean, of course I thought of you, but you were kind of needed in a more vital function."
"Vital function?"
"Yes," responded Anya, "My father is long dead, and a pile of rotting bones by now, and though the thought of resurrecting him for the occasion did cross my mind, it would be all gooie and unpleasant with the hellos and the what have you been up to for the last thousands years. So, it would be more efficient if I took a cheap substitute like you to walk me down the aisle…" Anya paused looking at her feet for a moment and then added with an unusual amount of emotions, "… plus you being my boss and all… you're really more of a father to me than he ever was."
"Of course, I'll be delighted," answered Giles, the two of them exchanging a brief smile.
"Thank you. Your job will be to act really protectively of me and make disparaging remarks regarding my choice of life mate. And don't worry, we have non-paying jobs to burden the rest of you with as well," quickly continued Anya. "Dawn can be that little cute girl that holds the pillow with the rings."
"Great," said Dawn sarcastically, not at all thrilled at the idea of Xander marrying Anya.
"Buffy, I hesitated between you and Willow, but since Willow as had a previous romantic entanglement with Xander I think it would be inconsiderate of me to ask her, so what do you say about being my Head bridesmaid. I hear it's really easy to get a man at a wedding if you're a bridesmaid, if that's a incentive."
"I think it's the other way around actually," responded Buffy, "but I'll be glad to do it, Anya."
"And Willow and Tara, you can be just regular bridesmaid, not that you would want to get men, since you're gay."
"Thank you, I… we'd be glad to do it, right Willow?"
"Sure," said Willow a bit dryly, but quickly adding a smile to try to sound less devastated than she was.
"Buffy, we're going to have to talk afterwards because I'm leaving tomorrow for this ex-demon conference thing in London, and I'd like you to get started on some stuff."
Xander didn't know what time it was exactly, his mind was in a daze of confusion. He felt like in the middle of a night ambush, taking fire from every side. It felt exactly like that, save for the adrenaline rush. Instead, Xander felt a sort of jadedness that left him looking very much like a zombie himself, his skin pale and clammy as he stared emptily through the living room window, the sun shining down gently into the room. It felt like late afternoon, but he really didn't have any precise idea as he slid the clip into the S&W pistol.
"What are you doing?" asked Tara worriedly as she stared at Willow, whom was drawing symbols on the floor of their apartment, and seemed to be a bit embarrassed by being discovered. Tara had came home an hour early from work at the University's library and apparently had surprised Willow in the middle of something covert.
"Oh! I thought you weren't suppose to come home for…"
"Willow, why are you casting a spell without me?" asked Tara, sounding slightly hurt by the discovery. She scanned the floor that was cluttered with various artifacts and ingredients surrounding the elaborate inscriptions.
"I… I'm… not."
"Please, don't lie to me. You know I want to believe you, baby, but there's the dead body right there and you're holding the bloody kitchen knife." Tara knelt down by her lover's side, whose shoulders slumped as she sighed, managing a weak smile.
"Okay, but promise not to be angry. I was summoning a higher plane spirit, and I knew you'd be mad and totally like "No, Wills, that's too dangerous, and.."."
"No! Wills, what are you doing? You can't conjure that kind of spirit, that's way too dangerous, you'll never be able to control it, who knows what it…"
"See! Honey, you're getting angry, just like I said. I don't want a repeat of what happened with Glory and the brainsucking, and you know," said Willow pouting and giving Tara the best puppy eyes she had in store. Tara sighed, and resigned herself, looking over the dusty tome open near Willow's knees. It was one of Giles forbidden books that he kept under lock in the Magic Box.
"Okay, but a higher plane spirit?"
"I can handle it, you said it yourself, I'm getting much more powerful."
"But why does it have to be a higher plane spirit? Did something horrible and world threatening happen while I was working? Is Buffy in big need of some major Wicca help?"
"No, actually it's… it's for Xander."
"He's not in danger is he?"
"No, it's for his wedding present. You're all getting them such nice gifts and I was looking for a way to really steal the show, when I thought of the one thing that would totally make Xander super happy, and I'm fairly certain Anya would like it too."
"What?"
"A power. Think about it, all this time, he's the only one of us who doesn't have any powers."
"But he helps in different ways…"
"Yeah, I know, but I think he always wanted one, plus I'm sure Anya wouldn't mind if he had something to help protect himself, and her of course. So I'm going to bind a higher plane spirit and force him to grant Xander a power."
"What kind of power?"
"Well, I was thinking invincibility since he always gets tossed around, but that is so totally out of my league. Then, I thought of super slayer like strength, and all those reflexes and stuff, but again, a bit too hard. And then it hit me, since Spike is buying Xander a pistol for his wedding gift, I figure I would give him perfect eye and hand coordination, you know, so he doesn't shoot one of us by mistake. I know he's been getting less clumsy lately, but like that, all remaining clumsiness would go poof!"
"Well, that's a good idea and I do have confidence in you, but it seems a bit much. Don't resolve face me though. Can I help?"
"Of course, and thank you, honey. I promise next time I'll be more trusting."
Tara knelt besides Willow and helped her finish marking the floor and positioning the ingredients. They then both knelt, holding hands, inside a circle of salt, and started to recite the incantation in the tome. Tara could feel the incredible surge of power vibrating from Willow, she had indeed became much more powerful recently. Suddenly, a strong wind rose from nowhere, brushing away everything in its path. It seemed to be circling around them, forming a whirlwind spinning the entire room around. She stared worriedly at Willow who continued to repeat the incantation solemnly, her eyes pitch-black.
"Willow! I think something's wrong," said Tara as she withdrew her hand from her. She had a growing discomfort and it was only aggravated when an ethereal cloud of darkness seemed to form in front of them. Tara felt nauseated, she wanted to scream for Willow to stop but the words came out only as whisper. "Willow! Stop, something's wrong."
Willow didn't stop, she continued louder and louder, as if she never heard Tara in the first place. Fear and terror grew inside the later, as she watched the protective circle of salt slowing being striped and destroyed as the wind blew it away, grain-by-grain.
"Willow!" she yelled one last time as the circle was finally broken and a bolt of energy propelled her to the other end of the room. Tara somehow managed not to loose consciousness, but watched helplessly as the cloud of darkness enveloped her lover, who kept repeating the same words with more and more intensity. All of a sudden, a shrill shriek escaped Willow's mouth as she started convulsing in pain. She fell to the ground seemingly lifeless as the cloud dissipated, the room quieted down. Tara quickly rushed over her lover's side, fearing the worst.
"Willow?" she shook her, tears sliding down her face. Her fear subsided a moment when a response came.
"I'm fine, don't worry, honey." She pulled Willow into a tight embrace, sighing in relief. However the fear returned when she pulled back and noticed her lover's pupils were still pitch-black, a wicked grin on her lips. Tara dropped her and she started laughing manically as Tara backed away toward the exit.
"You… yo… you're not, Willow!" she stuttered through the tears, her hand turning the knob to the door.
"Sure I am, now how 'bout you come here and give me a kiss, I'll prove it," said Willow, seizing the ritual dagger on the floor and getting up to her feet. She started laughing again as she watched a terrorized Tara, swing the door open and take off running through the corridor.
Xander took a long swig from a half-empty Bourbon bottle, coming close to finishing it off. He threw it back still open on the couch, where it started rolling and spilling its content all over the carpet. Xander in his terribly drunken haze couldn't remember why in hell he hadn't tried this before, why he hadn't done this right and good some five years ago. After a moment, he discarded the question, not caring to know the answer and pressed the gun firmly under his chin, cocking it.
"I suppose I should say something," said Xander to himself, and then he chuckled. "But for once I really can't think of anything."
His finger slung around the trigger, it needed a little nudge, a little pull, and it would all be over. Xander stopped for a moment to contemplate the situation, he really wished his other arm hadn't been sealed in that plaster cast, so then he could have at least stood at attention and salute, die like a soldier, but he figured in a moment it wouldn't make much difference to him anyways.
"Xander, don't do this," said Buffy, appearing out of nowhere. She smiled at him gently, standing in front of him as radiant as she had ever looked. Xander stared in awe for a moment, and then shook his head.
"You're not real, you're an illusion. Buffy's dead," he said, his speech heavily slurred.
"No, Xander. I'm real and I'm here to help you. Can't you see someone is doing this to you?" As she spoke, he felt the medallion grow warm against his chest. He looked down upon it and, after shaking his head a few more times, came somehow to draw a conclusion though the veil of alcohol that rested on his mind.
"You're not Buffy," he spat angrily, "you're not Buffy! Go away you son of a bitch! Leave my mind alone!"
"I can help you, if you only take my hand, Xander. Take my hand, please…" said Buffy offering it to Xander. She seemed desperate and afraid and Xander was genuinely tempted to seize it when the whole world was suck away from around Xander and he suddenly found himself in a Bolivian swamp dressed in black with the thick suffocating sensation of camo on his skin. The night was torn by the flash of mp5's being fired all around at gruesome opponents surging from the trees and from the mud where they had laid in waiting. Xander forgot all about the last four years and suddenly, with dying the scream of his men ringing in his ears, was back in command, reliving that day as if it were real.
"Sir!" yelled out Corporal Bateman, the radio operator, as he fired at an incoming enemy. "They just cut us off in the middle!" Xander turned to see his platoon separated in two factions, being attack by all side. Divide and conquer, these things had done their homework on setting up ambushes.
"Light's on!" yelled Xander as arcs of light appeared all around from the mounted flashlights revealing the horror that was taken place. They were large dog-like creatures with bulky shoulders and terrible mouths, hungry and unforgiving. They had thick gray skin like lizard and opaque eyes that told only of their merciless desire to bury their knife like teeth into human flesh. "Go loud! Fire at will! Stay together, I want to see tight group people. Waste those motherfuckers! Cohen, Francoeur, Simons, Harrison take the left, Jobson, Weber, Smith, Jones take the right, Fritz, Nakamura, Fuentes, Colin, the front. I want everybody else on the back, punch a whole so we can regroup, controlled burst only, don't shoot our own people. Bateman come here, I need to call Faith for reinforcement."
Suddenly, warm blood splattered all over his face as one creature bit Bateman in the leg and started dragging him screaming into the darkness. Xander instantly fired, killing the creature, but another took its place, and Xander was gradually forced to watch Bateman clawing the ground desperately as he was dragged back by one creatures after the other, until Xander had to change magazine, and then Bateman disappeared forever, a disturbing yell coming from the darkness, as he was most likely being eaten alive. The humidity in the air, the feeling of his skin, sticky with sweat and blood. His eyes scanning the swamp while he tried desperately to retake control of the situation. His heart rate was higher than it ever had been.
"Heart!" yelled Xander over his personal short distance radio, trying to cover his ears. He was in the middle of a circle, his men protecting him as he tried to get in touch with his 2ic whom had been bringing up the rear. "Situation?"
"Not good, sir. Almost everybody on my side is down with the exception of Lambert, Knight, McClean and Pino. These bastards are smart, sir. They took out my radioman right away," said RSM Heart in the most composed of tones.
"Mine too, this isn't a random ambush, they knew we were coming. Now, listen to me, the order is retreat, you hear me, you get a shot at running, take you're men out of there and we see each other again at the RV point."
"Understood."
"Sir!" yelled out Cohen as a dozen of creatures charged their position, from the left tearing through every soldier there as if they were made of paper. Xander fired wildly until he was suddenly toppled over by one of the creatures, his machine gun flying away into the mud somewhere. Thankfully, Nakamura managed to kill Xander's attacker just before another creature bit his own head off. Xander pulled himself out of the mud, faced by the dying screams of all his men and the click of empty weapons. He quickly drew his sidearm, a desert eagle that he fired repeatedly at various targets, throwing an occasional grenade, timing it so it would explode before it hit the water. He was somehow managing to make the creatures retreat, not noticing fire supporting him from far and away to his left.
"C'mon! C'mon! You sacks of shit! Come and get it! I'm right here!" Suddenly and once again, he was thrown against a tree, one of the creatures on top of him, Xander holding its jaw open, inches away from his face. He grunted and the creature roared in response, trying again and again to bite him. Slowly and with great struggle, Xander slid the gun so the muzzle was pressed against the thing's eye.
"Good doggie, now play dead."
"Xander!" yelled Sanaz as she slapped him, trying to pry him off Katrina whom he held pinned to the floor, his pistol pressed against her eye. Gabe had both his arms wrapped around Xander's body, trying to use all his weight to lift him off. Garrett struggled to bring the gun away from Katrina's face and by accident, he had slipped his little finger under the hammer, which crashed down as Xander pulled the trigger. Garrett yelled, his finger broken, but the firearm never discharged.
"Xander, please stop," whispered Katrina, trembling, tears forming in her eyes. Finally, the group managed to pull Xander to his feet, and he quickly replied by head butting Garrett, sending him crashing against the couch. Gabe was trying to give Xander the full nelson, which he countered by smashing his friend repeatedly into the closest wall.
"Get off me demon!" yelled Xander, spinning and sending Sanaz crashing into the couch as well. Gabe, for himself, was bruised but still holding on tight. Xander pedaled backwards again, crashing violently into another wall, portraits falling off as Gabe's grip finally loosen. Xander was now free to wield the pistol again, but was never given a chance as Marcus blindsided him with a baseball bat. Xander's body hit the ground, consciousness having long left it. Everyone else's breath was erratic and slowly calming down. Marcus looked around the room that was now a total mess, riddled with bullet holes everywhere.