***Title: Like A Bolt Of Lightning From A Clear Blue Sky (6/13) Pt.6 - To
Begin Again
Spoilers: Everything, AU.
Author's Note: This gets confusing, so if you have any questions let me know. 'Buffy'= the 'real' Buffy, 'Anne'=the Buffy in the created timeline. ***
Pt.6: To Begin Again
This time there was no sense of disorientation, no sense of waking up in a strange place, this time she was simply there one minute and somewhere else the next. Strangely, it was almost kind of cool. Now she was standing in a crowded area, obviously the school dance, and there they were right in front of her. Their laughter carried to those around them. Their joy was infectious, the tight way they held each other and the wide grins on their faces left no doubt as to how they felt about each other.
Buffy watched the two, entranced as the night wore on. As their love continued to blossom right before her eyes she couldn't help but ache for Willow, seeing this must be breaking her heart. She realized soon enough that she couldn't get away from the 'Lovebirds' she was practically glued to them. Every time she tried to move away she found the way blocked by some invisible forcefield.
At the end of the night she was pulled along with them as Xander took Anne home. She couldn't believe how relieved she was to see her home one more time, she had been beginning to think she'd never see it again. She couldn't help but laugh at the couple's awkward parting; it was good to see that Xander was still Xander even if the circumstances were a little different. The boy laughed to break the uncomfortable silence then issued a rather quick goodbye and turned away, he was blushing deeply, obviously unsure of himself. He was actually very cute, his shyness and vulnerability were refreshing but Xander always did wear his heart on his sleeve. That was probably why it was broken so often.
Anne stood on the doorstep and watched this with amazement and uncertainty. She moved to call him back, hesitated and then quickly, before she could change her mind called his name. "Xander, wait!"
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, with a question in his eyes but it was all erased when he found the woman of his dreams rushing to be in his arms. She grabbed him with incredible force and pulled his lips down to hers, melding her body to his. The kiss was gentle but incredibly passionate. All the waiting, all the anxiety, everything left unsaid or undone poured out in the fiery embrace between the slayer and her white knight.
After tonight nothing would ever be the same again and they both knew it. As Buffy watched this from the outside she felt a twinge of something within, longing perhaps. God knows she had never kissed or been kissed with such passion, not even by Angel. They broke apart from the kiss only when the loss of oxygen became a problem, but they didn't break the tight embrace. They stood there in the darkness holding each other tightly, and soon began to sway, dancing to a song only they knew the words to. When they finally parted it was with a great reluctance and a long gentle kiss that spoke of many more to come.
Then Anne watched ruefully as Xander walked away, and only when he was out of sight did she go inside. As if that was its cue Buffy felt another flash of light accost her but this time it wasn't any particular moment she witnessed but many in quick flashes, as if the other Buffy's memories were melding with hers.
They truly loved each other, it was a miracle to feel it, so strong, so unbreakable, and she knew they would die for each other, without thought or question. This Buffy or Anne still died at the hands of the Master, but once again Xander saved her. The agony Xander felt when he saw his love dead was excruciating. But he never gave up and when he finally revived her; his name was the first thing on her lips.
The fiasco on her seventeenth birthday with the Judge still occurred as well, with a slight twist. Angel never lost his soul, because it was Xander- Anne made love to that night and it was bliss. So sweet and beautiful, but this time it was a moment of true happiness for both of the parties involved. There was no horror, no pain, and the next morning she woke up in Xander's arms, as he gazed at her with such a look of complete love and trust that it made her weep with joy. Most of their exploits not dealing with Angelus remained the same, with slight variations in perspective. With Angel never losing his soul, a lot of things changed for the better.
Ms. Calendar lived, and Giles forgave everything. They were married later that year, with Anne as maid-of-honor, and her white knight as the best man. A year later a little Giles was on the way, and Buffy had never seen her Watcher so happy, not even when the library received a new shipment of musty, old hellmouth related books.
As for Willow she was also blissfully happy, in this world she met Oz earlier.
There was a twist in this world though, a vey scary one. The moment the memory touched Buffy's mind she felt like she'd been punched in the gut, the wind was knocked right out of her and she was afraid she'd never be able to breath again.
Pt.7: The Kilala: The Thief Of Souls
In this world there was no Acathla. But there was something almost as bad- a Kilala; the bringer of death, stealer of souls. It is an incredibly powerful demon that feeds almost exclusively on human souls. Their powers are incredible, including telepathy and shapeshifting. One touch of it's skin and the victim is marked, and the Kilala are possessive by nature. If a victim is marked but escapes it's grip they are be hunted down until the Kilala feed, and then the victim dies. They are the exact opposite of human beings, the Kilala are very independent and solitary. Unlike people they prefer to hunt and kill on their own, they need no help. They are possessive of not only their prey but their territory as well. If one Kilala invades the territory of another they will issue a challenge and fight to the death, By eating the loser's heart and brain the Kilala absorbs their opponent's power and becomes stronger still. There is no loyalty or compassion among the Kilala they lust for power and destruction. There is no higher purpose than to gather as many souls as possible to increase their personal energy.
When the Kilala came to Sunnydale they seemed unstoppable. Then they did something stupid; they pissed off the slayer. A single Kilala attacked one night as Anne and Xander were on patrol. Anne was hopelessly overwhelmed and Xander in full protective mode attacked the Kilala with his bare hands. The demon knocked him down and marked him before Xander or the slayer knew what was happening. Seeing her boyfriend at the mercy of this new beast spit out of the hellmouth, the slayer picked herself up and ran the thing off. The next day Xander complained of terrible nightmares, which Giles, after he was filled in on the previous night's events quickly informed them, was 'not good.'
That night Xander didn't go on patrol with Anne, claiming lack of sleep the night before as cause. After midnight the Kilala attacked. It threw itself with glorious abandon through Xander's second story bedroom window, shattering the glass and the silence of the night. By the time Anne arrived at her lover's side Xander was almost dead. He was rushed to the hospital, on the way- with his hand still in her's his heart stopped. They were able to revive him with incredible effort, but the scars of those few minutes when his heart no longer beat, and he stopped breathing- etched themselves deeply into Anne's heart and mind. Even years later she still awoke screaming from the horror of watching him die.
Anne didn't want to leave him alone so she called everybody to the hospital, with the exception of Giles whom she ordered to the library for research. Anne cried, prayed and begged more that night than Buffy ever had- even during the whole Angelus thing and after her fateful encounter with Acathla. Anne held Xander's hand tightly in hers, and talked of future plans that suddenly seemed shattered beyond belief. Their wedding day, with Anne glowing in white, the honeymoon, where clothes would not be needed. What she wanted to name their first child, Alexander, after his father- her knight in shining armor. Buffy was amazed by how deeply this girl by the bed wanted to have that chance, to bear Xander's child, to live forever by his side.
Then a nurse was knocking on the window- Giles had arrived. And as Anne stood by the bed, she gently, tenderly brushed Xander's dark hair away from his face, lovingly placing kisses on his forehead, eyes and lips. Tears from her eyes slipped onto his face wetting his pale skin. With her face close to his she entreated, "Please, please don't leave me Xan, I swear to God you won't regret this... if you stay with me. I promise, please don't leave..." Then her voice broke, she wiped her tears off of his face, kissed him once more and then turned to leave, but was tugged back. His hand was still held firmly within her own, she hadn't let go and now she didn't want to. But she knew she was wasting precious time, if she wanted to save him; Giles was their only chance. Reluctantly she let go of his hand and walked out the door.
As always Giles fulfilled his usual role as answer man. He knew everything about the Kilala even how to kill them, and providing that Xander survived until the Kilala was dead he too could be saved. If the victim were still alive when the demon died his soul would be returned. To kill the demon all Anne had to do was remove it's heart and brain, and destroy them both. Anne walked out of that hospital determined to destroy the Kilala or die trying. She had nothing left to lose. Without Xander her life wouldn't be worth the effort it took to survive on the hellmouth, or to keep breathing for that matter.
When She found the Kilala she attacked it with a ferocity she had never felt before, ignoring it's tricks and games until her spirit finally broke it, then she cut out it's offending parts and crushed them with bloodcurdling satisfaction. Then it just disappeared. Soon afterward Anne, exhausted; faced the long trek back to the hospital to find out whether Xander was alive or dead. Anne couldn't let her mind linger too long on the horrible idea that Xander might have already been dead even before the fight began. Buffy was in a state of extreme anxiety as these memories that were not her own unfolded in her mind, suddenly the thought of losing Xander made her feel sick to her stomach (if of course she still had a stomach). The relief that she felt when she realized Xander was still alive, made her ache to hold him, she had been so afraid she'd lost him forever. Then the light flashed again.
Pt. 8: Hard Decisions
This time Buffy was back on the bluff and Whistler's hands were still enfolding her forehead. He was kneeling in front of her with a smile on his face. "Welcome back, slayer." Whistler greeted her cheerfully "Did you enjoy your trip?"
After everything she had experienced in the last couple of days, Buffy couldn't help but feel lost and confused. "Did any of that stuff actually happen or was I just dreaming it?" Buffy asked incredulously. She put her aching head in her hands and closed her eyes. When Whistler didn't respond immediately Buffy looked up at him sharply. "Did it happen or not? It wasn't meant to be a stumper, Whistler. Please no cryptic crap, just answer me." Buffy beseeched him.
"Well, Yes and No. What you saw was a kind of divine foretelling of what would have occurred had you recognized Xander as your soulmate, rather than chasing after Angel. So no, since you fell for Angel instead, things didn't turn out like they were supposed to." Whistler instructed gently.
"So, If I go back now, our timeline wouldn't change would it? We would just pick up from where we left off, from the moment I died the second time and go on from there, right?" Buffy entreated anxiously.
Whistler winced, "Actually, no Buffy it would have to change. I don't have the power to resurrect the dead, but I can put you back into your body at a preordained moment in time, prior to your death..."
"...Before the Spring Fling?" Buffy whispered darkly.
"Exactly, where it all began." Whistler responded warily.
Buffy looked him in the eyes for a moment, and, "Then all the things I saw in the new timeline will occur, in our reality?" Buffy asked offhand, clearly deep in thought.
Whistler nodded, not liking the guarded expression on the willful slayer's face. All Buffy could see in her mind's eye was how dark Xander's hair looked lying against his pale face and the pure white of the hospital sheets. The utter anguish that had swept her body as she watched the 'medic's frantically trying to bring the love of her life back from the abyss, when his heart stopped beating. Watching him die, and wanting to die herself so she wouldn't have to survive him, wouldn't have to continue living without his sweet smile, tender kiss, and those dark chocolate brown eyes that made her knees go weak.
If she went back now she would be putting his life in jeopardy, God knows that Angel wasn't joking when he called Xander her white knight. To protect her he would do anything- even putting his own life at risk, suddenly that was a chance she couldn't and didn't want to take.
In the other world Xander had survived his encounter with the Kilala, but what if he didn't survive his next encounter with the beasties of the hellmouth because he was trying to protect her. Maybe in the end it was better ended before it began, If she didn't go back she would no longer be around to put the ones she loved most, in danger. Besides in the end it was a slayer's destiny to die, she'd already lived longer than most slayers and survived the two called after her, she had a feeling her clock was just about up anyway.
Whistler watched the girl with anxiety. He had an unpleasant feeling that her silence was a bad omen. "Wait before you decide! You need to see what will happen in Sunnydale after your final death. It won't hurt like before, but I think you need to see how vital it is that you make the right decision. The hellmouth without a slayer? Let's just say with your death things will change there forever!" Whistler told her darkly.
Buffy looked at him sadly. "No it won't..." Buffy began in her best imitation of Giles in lecture mode. "Haven't you ever heard, when one slayer dies another is called to take their place. Before my blood is dry the next slayer will be kicking vampire ass in Sunnydale...all that's left to do is bury me. Out with the old, in with the new and all that." She tried to sound confidant, but it just came out as fear, and they both knew it.
Whistler caught her eyes with his, "before you do anything stupid or go all noble on me, you have to look. I see you're conflicted but if you decide rashly without knowing the chain of events your death will set in motion, you will regret it for all eternity- do you understand what I'm saying, slayer. If you refuse this, you are turning your back on everyone who needs you, who loves you. All I'm asking Buffy is that you make an informed choice, alright?" Whistler pleaded earnestly.
Buffy just stared at him her eyes were lustrous, if he didn't know any better he would think she was on the verge of tears, again. But he knew, even if she felt like it- she wouldn't allow him to see her so vulnerable again. She was just a slip of a girl, frail, and sad looking but her spine was made of steel, she had been conditioned by pain and her unfailing sense of responsibility for the welfare of mankind, to fight when all she really wanted to do was lay down and die.
She was a great contradiction, the finest enigma he had ever come across but he knew that he would never get close enough to figure her out. She wouldn't allow that, besides somebody else had gotten there first. She was the rock upon which the future of the world depended, she could defeat the most terrifying monsters ever to be brought forth from hell- yet her own desires and judgement had almost destroyed her and all she held dear. But with his last words he had seen the stone cold reality of her resolve turn into fearful, agonized imaginings. She had seen enough of the hellmouth to know what dire consequences it could pose to any of the innocents caught in it's nightmarish grip.
"What's happening, Whistler? Are my friends okay, my family, Giles...? How come I get the idea that this is going from bad to worse?" Buffy whispered as she tiredly raked her fingers through her long blonde hair. "Fine, do whatever you have to do, just do it now!" The slayer uttered with a cold edge to her voice.
So Whistler did as he was told, and reached his palms out to the agitated slayer, to allow her to see the aftermath of her death, and to show her how powerful true love could be. To teach her that there was still promise and hope in this incredibly dark world. That there was one person whose love for her was so pure and true that they would drive themselves to madness and beyond the brink of hell and still never give up on her. True love was difficult to find, but unconditional, to find unconditional love was nearly impossible. Yet she had turned her back on it twice.
When he felt the new timeline wash over the exhausted Slayer, He crossed his fingers that this time she would see. He prayed that whatever had so tightly fastened the slayer's blinders on would take pity on the two lover's and finally take them off, so Buffy could see at last the happiness standing right in front of her and just take the chance, God knows the boy's earned it.
***Author's note: Here it gets a little confusing again. Xander begins to call himself 'Alex' after Buffy's death; he becomes almost a different person, but deep down Xander's still in there. ***
Pt. 9: Love And Madness
Once unconscious again Buffy was attacked by horrible visions, made all the more horrible because she knew it was really happening or soon would be. She could feel emotions that were not her own, thoughts; it was like she had been dropped into another person's body. But not just anybody's; it was Xander's and he was in agony. He had found her dead body in the graveyard, now he held her tightly, tenderly and rocked back in forth in abject misery.
It was still raining hard and Xander was soaking wet, but he didn't even seem to notice the rain. His teardrops mixed with the rainwater pouring down his face as he began to wail, a high keening grief that seemed to meld and blend with the darkness of the night as a new darkness was born inside him. Bred from deep anguish, despair, guilt and unimaginable pain, Xander took a deep gulp of air then began to scream it all out, all the fury and horror.
The woman he had loved for the last three years; his best friend was dead, despite all he had done or could do, she was dead. She was gone from his life almost as quickly as she had entered it, and with her went all the light, all the hope left in his life, all of his heart.
All she would've had to do was ask him and he would have given her his life, his soul, his heart. All she would have had to do was give him that special look, that half-smile and he would have crawled through burning fire or broken glass to do her bidding, or just to make her smile. But she never asked him, she never really saw him and now it was too late.
In a moment so quick he hadn't even caught it, his life, his soul, his future, his chance was shattered, broken into a myriad of pieces that glittered sleekly in the ravaging torrents of rain cutting him so deep these wounds would never heal. If he could curl himself around her now and simply die he would thank the stars, God, or whatever horrid creature of the hellmouth was kind enough to bestow the silence of death upon him.
Because he had killed her, it was his fault and his fault alone, no one else could be blamed for this horrific act; her blood was on his hands! Earlier in the night Buffy had come to him seeking comfort, a shoulder to cry on- about Angel of course. Everything seemed to be about Angel where Buffy was concerned, since the vampire had left Sunnydale for greener pastures.
In the last few months he had been getting a taste of his own medicine and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He was constantly chagrined to think he had put Willow through this agonizing ritual for the past eight years or so, ever since he had hit puberty with a bullet. Listening to the love of your life mope and yearn for another person was about as much fun as getting a root canal, with a spoon and no anesthetic.
Tonight, he had had enough and when he couldn't taken it anymore he had just blown sky-high. They'd both said some things they regretted, at least he hoped Buffy regretted it too, and she had taken off into the storm without a backward glance. He had been comfortably in the middle of a good sulk when his phone began to ring sharply, startling him out of his thoughts. He lunged for it with superhuman speed, praying against hope that Buffy would be on the other line, as contrite as he was. But it wasn't Buffy, it was much worse, he felt the icy fear hanging over him the moment he recognized Joyce Summer's voice.
Buffy hadn't returned home. The moment he finished speaking to Joyce he rescued a stake from his bureau drawer and walked out into the tempestuous night without thought or care except to see that Buffy made it home safe, one more night. But he was too late, again, just like Jesse, just a moment too late but the souvenirs would last in his nightmares forever.
"God, Buffy I love you. I love you so much, please don't leave me ...Please, If you come back you won't regret it, I'll love you forever...BUFFY PLEASE! COME BACK!!!" He was screaming his heart out into the ravaging wind and battering rains, but it was too late for that. The one person to whom he had been dying to utter these heartfelt words to was gone forever along with the last vestiges of the Xander Harris who had existed before this horrible night. Now Alex was all that was left, and he was not the same, could never be the same.
Buffy was battered by memories of a dead-eyed Xander standing far behind the others as her casket was lowered into the ground. Things were not the same, he pushed the others away- especially Willow which broke her heart. He soon began taking self-defense and martial arts classes determined to avenge her death. No one knew who had killed the slayer but common sense deemed that it must have been a vampire.
In fact as these thoughts washed over her she felt an acute sense of embarrassment on two counts. First of all her 'killer' had been a vampire, she had been so lost and angry after leaving Xander's place that night that she had just needed some time alone to think. She hadn't even thought about the chances of running into anything needing slaying on such a miserable night. She'd been so consumed by the tempest within her own mind- that she'd barely noticed where she was let alone whether she'd been followed.
She hadn't even known what was coming until it was too late and a newbie had ripped her chest open with his claws. The pain was so intense and the wound so deep she'd hardly put up a fight, by the end he was just playing with her like a child playing with a broken toy.
The second count on which she felt suddenly amazingly ashamed... was the realization that hit her like a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. She had already been in love with Alexander Harris. That night when she had run from his home with anger in her heart and tears streaming from her eyes, it was him she was crying over, him she was thinking of as she wandered the dark aisles of the lonely cemetery.
And it was his name on her lips and his face held tightly in her mind as the pain tore her open and her blood washed the ground that night. She went to her death loving him, because she had been too stupid and self- centered to see who was really her guardian angel, her white knight. She had wanted the fantasy and in so doing had destroyed her only chance at real happiness.
With Angel she had experienced many happy moments but his brooding and psychoses often overshadowed them. Angel made her happy for a moment, but Xander would have made her happy for a lifetime, sacrificing everything to ensure it. And she had been too blinded by lust to see it. Whistler was right after all, God she hated acknowledging it! Silent tears streamed down her face - she wanted out of this, she didn't want to feel his pain. Not now that she knew she would do anything to take it away.
Between mournful visits to her grave he was rushing steadily, recklessly and without care toward his own destruction, she could feel it. He was mired in a deep abyss of apathy and despair, that no one could pull him out of. He had been her knight in shining armor but unfortunately there was no one left to fill that role for him. And by now he had begun to take up slaying as well. Every night he walked a fine line of life and death, praying for the latter even as he fought with an ability and savagery- which she had never witnessed in him. He became hard and bitter as the years wore on and as the people he loved died brutally and abruptly around him.
Buffy felt how devastated he was when Willow died three years later; she died alone at the hands of her lover when Oz escaped from his cage one night. Once again Alex found the body of one whom he loved more than his own life. The pure agony he felt was staggering; it was almost as bad as Oz must have felt when he woke up from the fiasco covered in the blood of the woman he loved. He knew he was dead already, Alex would put him down the moment he found him, so he did the only thing left to him. In the middle of the day with the sun burning his eyes and Willow's blood curdling in his throat he walked out in front of a Sunnydale transit bus, the Two- fourteen to be accurate, he'd never have to worry about the full moon again.
But Oz was wrong; Alex did grieve over him. Oz wasn't on the periphery of the scooby gang anymore he had been a friend, the best male friend he'd had since Jesse. Oz was right though, Alex probably would have killed him- if he'd caught him that day, and maybe the day after that but...like so many things lately it was all taken out of his hands.
Through all these horrendous memories ravaging her mind Buffy was taken aback by the realization that this boy whom they had all treated like a nonentity, their comic relief was slowly and surely evolving into a better slayer than even she had ever been. He was turning himself into a killing machine weathering hardships she, even now could not fathom... the thought of seeing Willow die like that made her insides roil and if she had anything left in her stomach by now it would be gone. He was stronger than she had ever imagined and yet still so vulnerable, she ached for him. She never would have thought in a million years that her death would affect anyone the way it affected him, and it shamed her to see the depths of his love for her, which everyone including herself had assumed was just a silly crush.
Spoilers: Everything, AU.
Author's Note: This gets confusing, so if you have any questions let me know. 'Buffy'= the 'real' Buffy, 'Anne'=the Buffy in the created timeline. ***
Pt.6: To Begin Again
This time there was no sense of disorientation, no sense of waking up in a strange place, this time she was simply there one minute and somewhere else the next. Strangely, it was almost kind of cool. Now she was standing in a crowded area, obviously the school dance, and there they were right in front of her. Their laughter carried to those around them. Their joy was infectious, the tight way they held each other and the wide grins on their faces left no doubt as to how they felt about each other.
Buffy watched the two, entranced as the night wore on. As their love continued to blossom right before her eyes she couldn't help but ache for Willow, seeing this must be breaking her heart. She realized soon enough that she couldn't get away from the 'Lovebirds' she was practically glued to them. Every time she tried to move away she found the way blocked by some invisible forcefield.
At the end of the night she was pulled along with them as Xander took Anne home. She couldn't believe how relieved she was to see her home one more time, she had been beginning to think she'd never see it again. She couldn't help but laugh at the couple's awkward parting; it was good to see that Xander was still Xander even if the circumstances were a little different. The boy laughed to break the uncomfortable silence then issued a rather quick goodbye and turned away, he was blushing deeply, obviously unsure of himself. He was actually very cute, his shyness and vulnerability were refreshing but Xander always did wear his heart on his sleeve. That was probably why it was broken so often.
Anne stood on the doorstep and watched this with amazement and uncertainty. She moved to call him back, hesitated and then quickly, before she could change her mind called his name. "Xander, wait!"
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, with a question in his eyes but it was all erased when he found the woman of his dreams rushing to be in his arms. She grabbed him with incredible force and pulled his lips down to hers, melding her body to his. The kiss was gentle but incredibly passionate. All the waiting, all the anxiety, everything left unsaid or undone poured out in the fiery embrace between the slayer and her white knight.
After tonight nothing would ever be the same again and they both knew it. As Buffy watched this from the outside she felt a twinge of something within, longing perhaps. God knows she had never kissed or been kissed with such passion, not even by Angel. They broke apart from the kiss only when the loss of oxygen became a problem, but they didn't break the tight embrace. They stood there in the darkness holding each other tightly, and soon began to sway, dancing to a song only they knew the words to. When they finally parted it was with a great reluctance and a long gentle kiss that spoke of many more to come.
Then Anne watched ruefully as Xander walked away, and only when he was out of sight did she go inside. As if that was its cue Buffy felt another flash of light accost her but this time it wasn't any particular moment she witnessed but many in quick flashes, as if the other Buffy's memories were melding with hers.
They truly loved each other, it was a miracle to feel it, so strong, so unbreakable, and she knew they would die for each other, without thought or question. This Buffy or Anne still died at the hands of the Master, but once again Xander saved her. The agony Xander felt when he saw his love dead was excruciating. But he never gave up and when he finally revived her; his name was the first thing on her lips.
The fiasco on her seventeenth birthday with the Judge still occurred as well, with a slight twist. Angel never lost his soul, because it was Xander- Anne made love to that night and it was bliss. So sweet and beautiful, but this time it was a moment of true happiness for both of the parties involved. There was no horror, no pain, and the next morning she woke up in Xander's arms, as he gazed at her with such a look of complete love and trust that it made her weep with joy. Most of their exploits not dealing with Angelus remained the same, with slight variations in perspective. With Angel never losing his soul, a lot of things changed for the better.
Ms. Calendar lived, and Giles forgave everything. They were married later that year, with Anne as maid-of-honor, and her white knight as the best man. A year later a little Giles was on the way, and Buffy had never seen her Watcher so happy, not even when the library received a new shipment of musty, old hellmouth related books.
As for Willow she was also blissfully happy, in this world she met Oz earlier.
There was a twist in this world though, a vey scary one. The moment the memory touched Buffy's mind she felt like she'd been punched in the gut, the wind was knocked right out of her and she was afraid she'd never be able to breath again.
Pt.7: The Kilala: The Thief Of Souls
In this world there was no Acathla. But there was something almost as bad- a Kilala; the bringer of death, stealer of souls. It is an incredibly powerful demon that feeds almost exclusively on human souls. Their powers are incredible, including telepathy and shapeshifting. One touch of it's skin and the victim is marked, and the Kilala are possessive by nature. If a victim is marked but escapes it's grip they are be hunted down until the Kilala feed, and then the victim dies. They are the exact opposite of human beings, the Kilala are very independent and solitary. Unlike people they prefer to hunt and kill on their own, they need no help. They are possessive of not only their prey but their territory as well. If one Kilala invades the territory of another they will issue a challenge and fight to the death, By eating the loser's heart and brain the Kilala absorbs their opponent's power and becomes stronger still. There is no loyalty or compassion among the Kilala they lust for power and destruction. There is no higher purpose than to gather as many souls as possible to increase their personal energy.
When the Kilala came to Sunnydale they seemed unstoppable. Then they did something stupid; they pissed off the slayer. A single Kilala attacked one night as Anne and Xander were on patrol. Anne was hopelessly overwhelmed and Xander in full protective mode attacked the Kilala with his bare hands. The demon knocked him down and marked him before Xander or the slayer knew what was happening. Seeing her boyfriend at the mercy of this new beast spit out of the hellmouth, the slayer picked herself up and ran the thing off. The next day Xander complained of terrible nightmares, which Giles, after he was filled in on the previous night's events quickly informed them, was 'not good.'
That night Xander didn't go on patrol with Anne, claiming lack of sleep the night before as cause. After midnight the Kilala attacked. It threw itself with glorious abandon through Xander's second story bedroom window, shattering the glass and the silence of the night. By the time Anne arrived at her lover's side Xander was almost dead. He was rushed to the hospital, on the way- with his hand still in her's his heart stopped. They were able to revive him with incredible effort, but the scars of those few minutes when his heart no longer beat, and he stopped breathing- etched themselves deeply into Anne's heart and mind. Even years later she still awoke screaming from the horror of watching him die.
Anne didn't want to leave him alone so she called everybody to the hospital, with the exception of Giles whom she ordered to the library for research. Anne cried, prayed and begged more that night than Buffy ever had- even during the whole Angelus thing and after her fateful encounter with Acathla. Anne held Xander's hand tightly in hers, and talked of future plans that suddenly seemed shattered beyond belief. Their wedding day, with Anne glowing in white, the honeymoon, where clothes would not be needed. What she wanted to name their first child, Alexander, after his father- her knight in shining armor. Buffy was amazed by how deeply this girl by the bed wanted to have that chance, to bear Xander's child, to live forever by his side.
Then a nurse was knocking on the window- Giles had arrived. And as Anne stood by the bed, she gently, tenderly brushed Xander's dark hair away from his face, lovingly placing kisses on his forehead, eyes and lips. Tears from her eyes slipped onto his face wetting his pale skin. With her face close to his she entreated, "Please, please don't leave me Xan, I swear to God you won't regret this... if you stay with me. I promise, please don't leave..." Then her voice broke, she wiped her tears off of his face, kissed him once more and then turned to leave, but was tugged back. His hand was still held firmly within her own, she hadn't let go and now she didn't want to. But she knew she was wasting precious time, if she wanted to save him; Giles was their only chance. Reluctantly she let go of his hand and walked out the door.
As always Giles fulfilled his usual role as answer man. He knew everything about the Kilala even how to kill them, and providing that Xander survived until the Kilala was dead he too could be saved. If the victim were still alive when the demon died his soul would be returned. To kill the demon all Anne had to do was remove it's heart and brain, and destroy them both. Anne walked out of that hospital determined to destroy the Kilala or die trying. She had nothing left to lose. Without Xander her life wouldn't be worth the effort it took to survive on the hellmouth, or to keep breathing for that matter.
When She found the Kilala she attacked it with a ferocity she had never felt before, ignoring it's tricks and games until her spirit finally broke it, then she cut out it's offending parts and crushed them with bloodcurdling satisfaction. Then it just disappeared. Soon afterward Anne, exhausted; faced the long trek back to the hospital to find out whether Xander was alive or dead. Anne couldn't let her mind linger too long on the horrible idea that Xander might have already been dead even before the fight began. Buffy was in a state of extreme anxiety as these memories that were not her own unfolded in her mind, suddenly the thought of losing Xander made her feel sick to her stomach (if of course she still had a stomach). The relief that she felt when she realized Xander was still alive, made her ache to hold him, she had been so afraid she'd lost him forever. Then the light flashed again.
Pt. 8: Hard Decisions
This time Buffy was back on the bluff and Whistler's hands were still enfolding her forehead. He was kneeling in front of her with a smile on his face. "Welcome back, slayer." Whistler greeted her cheerfully "Did you enjoy your trip?"
After everything she had experienced in the last couple of days, Buffy couldn't help but feel lost and confused. "Did any of that stuff actually happen or was I just dreaming it?" Buffy asked incredulously. She put her aching head in her hands and closed her eyes. When Whistler didn't respond immediately Buffy looked up at him sharply. "Did it happen or not? It wasn't meant to be a stumper, Whistler. Please no cryptic crap, just answer me." Buffy beseeched him.
"Well, Yes and No. What you saw was a kind of divine foretelling of what would have occurred had you recognized Xander as your soulmate, rather than chasing after Angel. So no, since you fell for Angel instead, things didn't turn out like they were supposed to." Whistler instructed gently.
"So, If I go back now, our timeline wouldn't change would it? We would just pick up from where we left off, from the moment I died the second time and go on from there, right?" Buffy entreated anxiously.
Whistler winced, "Actually, no Buffy it would have to change. I don't have the power to resurrect the dead, but I can put you back into your body at a preordained moment in time, prior to your death..."
"...Before the Spring Fling?" Buffy whispered darkly.
"Exactly, where it all began." Whistler responded warily.
Buffy looked him in the eyes for a moment, and, "Then all the things I saw in the new timeline will occur, in our reality?" Buffy asked offhand, clearly deep in thought.
Whistler nodded, not liking the guarded expression on the willful slayer's face. All Buffy could see in her mind's eye was how dark Xander's hair looked lying against his pale face and the pure white of the hospital sheets. The utter anguish that had swept her body as she watched the 'medic's frantically trying to bring the love of her life back from the abyss, when his heart stopped beating. Watching him die, and wanting to die herself so she wouldn't have to survive him, wouldn't have to continue living without his sweet smile, tender kiss, and those dark chocolate brown eyes that made her knees go weak.
If she went back now she would be putting his life in jeopardy, God knows that Angel wasn't joking when he called Xander her white knight. To protect her he would do anything- even putting his own life at risk, suddenly that was a chance she couldn't and didn't want to take.
In the other world Xander had survived his encounter with the Kilala, but what if he didn't survive his next encounter with the beasties of the hellmouth because he was trying to protect her. Maybe in the end it was better ended before it began, If she didn't go back she would no longer be around to put the ones she loved most, in danger. Besides in the end it was a slayer's destiny to die, she'd already lived longer than most slayers and survived the two called after her, she had a feeling her clock was just about up anyway.
Whistler watched the girl with anxiety. He had an unpleasant feeling that her silence was a bad omen. "Wait before you decide! You need to see what will happen in Sunnydale after your final death. It won't hurt like before, but I think you need to see how vital it is that you make the right decision. The hellmouth without a slayer? Let's just say with your death things will change there forever!" Whistler told her darkly.
Buffy looked at him sadly. "No it won't..." Buffy began in her best imitation of Giles in lecture mode. "Haven't you ever heard, when one slayer dies another is called to take their place. Before my blood is dry the next slayer will be kicking vampire ass in Sunnydale...all that's left to do is bury me. Out with the old, in with the new and all that." She tried to sound confidant, but it just came out as fear, and they both knew it.
Whistler caught her eyes with his, "before you do anything stupid or go all noble on me, you have to look. I see you're conflicted but if you decide rashly without knowing the chain of events your death will set in motion, you will regret it for all eternity- do you understand what I'm saying, slayer. If you refuse this, you are turning your back on everyone who needs you, who loves you. All I'm asking Buffy is that you make an informed choice, alright?" Whistler pleaded earnestly.
Buffy just stared at him her eyes were lustrous, if he didn't know any better he would think she was on the verge of tears, again. But he knew, even if she felt like it- she wouldn't allow him to see her so vulnerable again. She was just a slip of a girl, frail, and sad looking but her spine was made of steel, she had been conditioned by pain and her unfailing sense of responsibility for the welfare of mankind, to fight when all she really wanted to do was lay down and die.
She was a great contradiction, the finest enigma he had ever come across but he knew that he would never get close enough to figure her out. She wouldn't allow that, besides somebody else had gotten there first. She was the rock upon which the future of the world depended, she could defeat the most terrifying monsters ever to be brought forth from hell- yet her own desires and judgement had almost destroyed her and all she held dear. But with his last words he had seen the stone cold reality of her resolve turn into fearful, agonized imaginings. She had seen enough of the hellmouth to know what dire consequences it could pose to any of the innocents caught in it's nightmarish grip.
"What's happening, Whistler? Are my friends okay, my family, Giles...? How come I get the idea that this is going from bad to worse?" Buffy whispered as she tiredly raked her fingers through her long blonde hair. "Fine, do whatever you have to do, just do it now!" The slayer uttered with a cold edge to her voice.
So Whistler did as he was told, and reached his palms out to the agitated slayer, to allow her to see the aftermath of her death, and to show her how powerful true love could be. To teach her that there was still promise and hope in this incredibly dark world. That there was one person whose love for her was so pure and true that they would drive themselves to madness and beyond the brink of hell and still never give up on her. True love was difficult to find, but unconditional, to find unconditional love was nearly impossible. Yet she had turned her back on it twice.
When he felt the new timeline wash over the exhausted Slayer, He crossed his fingers that this time she would see. He prayed that whatever had so tightly fastened the slayer's blinders on would take pity on the two lover's and finally take them off, so Buffy could see at last the happiness standing right in front of her and just take the chance, God knows the boy's earned it.
***Author's note: Here it gets a little confusing again. Xander begins to call himself 'Alex' after Buffy's death; he becomes almost a different person, but deep down Xander's still in there. ***
Pt. 9: Love And Madness
Once unconscious again Buffy was attacked by horrible visions, made all the more horrible because she knew it was really happening or soon would be. She could feel emotions that were not her own, thoughts; it was like she had been dropped into another person's body. But not just anybody's; it was Xander's and he was in agony. He had found her dead body in the graveyard, now he held her tightly, tenderly and rocked back in forth in abject misery.
It was still raining hard and Xander was soaking wet, but he didn't even seem to notice the rain. His teardrops mixed with the rainwater pouring down his face as he began to wail, a high keening grief that seemed to meld and blend with the darkness of the night as a new darkness was born inside him. Bred from deep anguish, despair, guilt and unimaginable pain, Xander took a deep gulp of air then began to scream it all out, all the fury and horror.
The woman he had loved for the last three years; his best friend was dead, despite all he had done or could do, she was dead. She was gone from his life almost as quickly as she had entered it, and with her went all the light, all the hope left in his life, all of his heart.
All she would've had to do was ask him and he would have given her his life, his soul, his heart. All she would have had to do was give him that special look, that half-smile and he would have crawled through burning fire or broken glass to do her bidding, or just to make her smile. But she never asked him, she never really saw him and now it was too late.
In a moment so quick he hadn't even caught it, his life, his soul, his future, his chance was shattered, broken into a myriad of pieces that glittered sleekly in the ravaging torrents of rain cutting him so deep these wounds would never heal. If he could curl himself around her now and simply die he would thank the stars, God, or whatever horrid creature of the hellmouth was kind enough to bestow the silence of death upon him.
Because he had killed her, it was his fault and his fault alone, no one else could be blamed for this horrific act; her blood was on his hands! Earlier in the night Buffy had come to him seeking comfort, a shoulder to cry on- about Angel of course. Everything seemed to be about Angel where Buffy was concerned, since the vampire had left Sunnydale for greener pastures.
In the last few months he had been getting a taste of his own medicine and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He was constantly chagrined to think he had put Willow through this agonizing ritual for the past eight years or so, ever since he had hit puberty with a bullet. Listening to the love of your life mope and yearn for another person was about as much fun as getting a root canal, with a spoon and no anesthetic.
Tonight, he had had enough and when he couldn't taken it anymore he had just blown sky-high. They'd both said some things they regretted, at least he hoped Buffy regretted it too, and she had taken off into the storm without a backward glance. He had been comfortably in the middle of a good sulk when his phone began to ring sharply, startling him out of his thoughts. He lunged for it with superhuman speed, praying against hope that Buffy would be on the other line, as contrite as he was. But it wasn't Buffy, it was much worse, he felt the icy fear hanging over him the moment he recognized Joyce Summer's voice.
Buffy hadn't returned home. The moment he finished speaking to Joyce he rescued a stake from his bureau drawer and walked out into the tempestuous night without thought or care except to see that Buffy made it home safe, one more night. But he was too late, again, just like Jesse, just a moment too late but the souvenirs would last in his nightmares forever.
"God, Buffy I love you. I love you so much, please don't leave me ...Please, If you come back you won't regret it, I'll love you forever...BUFFY PLEASE! COME BACK!!!" He was screaming his heart out into the ravaging wind and battering rains, but it was too late for that. The one person to whom he had been dying to utter these heartfelt words to was gone forever along with the last vestiges of the Xander Harris who had existed before this horrible night. Now Alex was all that was left, and he was not the same, could never be the same.
Buffy was battered by memories of a dead-eyed Xander standing far behind the others as her casket was lowered into the ground. Things were not the same, he pushed the others away- especially Willow which broke her heart. He soon began taking self-defense and martial arts classes determined to avenge her death. No one knew who had killed the slayer but common sense deemed that it must have been a vampire.
In fact as these thoughts washed over her she felt an acute sense of embarrassment on two counts. First of all her 'killer' had been a vampire, she had been so lost and angry after leaving Xander's place that night that she had just needed some time alone to think. She hadn't even thought about the chances of running into anything needing slaying on such a miserable night. She'd been so consumed by the tempest within her own mind- that she'd barely noticed where she was let alone whether she'd been followed.
She hadn't even known what was coming until it was too late and a newbie had ripped her chest open with his claws. The pain was so intense and the wound so deep she'd hardly put up a fight, by the end he was just playing with her like a child playing with a broken toy.
The second count on which she felt suddenly amazingly ashamed... was the realization that hit her like a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. She had already been in love with Alexander Harris. That night when she had run from his home with anger in her heart and tears streaming from her eyes, it was him she was crying over, him she was thinking of as she wandered the dark aisles of the lonely cemetery.
And it was his name on her lips and his face held tightly in her mind as the pain tore her open and her blood washed the ground that night. She went to her death loving him, because she had been too stupid and self- centered to see who was really her guardian angel, her white knight. She had wanted the fantasy and in so doing had destroyed her only chance at real happiness.
With Angel she had experienced many happy moments but his brooding and psychoses often overshadowed them. Angel made her happy for a moment, but Xander would have made her happy for a lifetime, sacrificing everything to ensure it. And she had been too blinded by lust to see it. Whistler was right after all, God she hated acknowledging it! Silent tears streamed down her face - she wanted out of this, she didn't want to feel his pain. Not now that she knew she would do anything to take it away.
Between mournful visits to her grave he was rushing steadily, recklessly and without care toward his own destruction, she could feel it. He was mired in a deep abyss of apathy and despair, that no one could pull him out of. He had been her knight in shining armor but unfortunately there was no one left to fill that role for him. And by now he had begun to take up slaying as well. Every night he walked a fine line of life and death, praying for the latter even as he fought with an ability and savagery- which she had never witnessed in him. He became hard and bitter as the years wore on and as the people he loved died brutally and abruptly around him.
Buffy felt how devastated he was when Willow died three years later; she died alone at the hands of her lover when Oz escaped from his cage one night. Once again Alex found the body of one whom he loved more than his own life. The pure agony he felt was staggering; it was almost as bad as Oz must have felt when he woke up from the fiasco covered in the blood of the woman he loved. He knew he was dead already, Alex would put him down the moment he found him, so he did the only thing left to him. In the middle of the day with the sun burning his eyes and Willow's blood curdling in his throat he walked out in front of a Sunnydale transit bus, the Two- fourteen to be accurate, he'd never have to worry about the full moon again.
But Oz was wrong; Alex did grieve over him. Oz wasn't on the periphery of the scooby gang anymore he had been a friend, the best male friend he'd had since Jesse. Oz was right though, Alex probably would have killed him- if he'd caught him that day, and maybe the day after that but...like so many things lately it was all taken out of his hands.
Through all these horrendous memories ravaging her mind Buffy was taken aback by the realization that this boy whom they had all treated like a nonentity, their comic relief was slowly and surely evolving into a better slayer than even she had ever been. He was turning himself into a killing machine weathering hardships she, even now could not fathom... the thought of seeing Willow die like that made her insides roil and if she had anything left in her stomach by now it would be gone. He was stronger than she had ever imagined and yet still so vulnerable, she ached for him. She never would have thought in a million years that her death would affect anyone the way it affected him, and it shamed her to see the depths of his love for her, which everyone including herself had assumed was just a silly crush.