Title: The Dopplegang Effect

Author: Becka

Chapter 05: Stagnating

o

Spike was bored. Strike that. He was beyond bored. If Buffy had come along right then, he would have offered her a stake himself just to put him out of his misery. For nearly a month, he'd been tracking Xander's scent, and he still hadn't found the boy.

Right outside of town, he'd found Xander's car in the parking lot of a small, shady bar. A few questions and a few dollars had told him the boy and another, older man had left there about eight months prior. The boy behind the bar said Xander had given him the keys when he left and told him he could keep it or sell it.

He'd picked up their scent in the woods. The mixture of old blood and chocolate was like candy to the vampire, but the other man's scent was harder to distinguish, too primal to tell apart from that of a bear or wolf. A fair distance from the bar, he found the remains of a campfire. The discovery had left him in a barely suppressed state of excitement. Having found so much on his first day, he figured he'd be able to locate the whelp in no time.

But each night that he traveled, running through the woods at speeds the human eye would have trouble even following, he only found the remains of two or three skeletal campsites. The only things he learned from the bars that Xander stopped at were that the man he was with looked to be about forty, and that the whelp had been making good use of the fake ID Spike had gotten for him.

The only real benefit of tracking Xander through the woods was that there was no shortage of caves for the vampire to retire to at night. Occasionally he even got to clear a couple of reclusive demons out of them.

Overall, through, searching for the whelp was a boring job. He only hoped Xander had managed to get himself into a bad spot. That way, at least, rescuing the boy might be entertaining.

o

Xander stared at himself in the mirror. It seemed ridiculous, but when he'd walked into the bathroom and seen his own reflection, for a moment, he hadn't even recognized himself. His hair hung past his shoulders, and his beard... well, he wondered what the Scooby's would say if they saw him now. He could almost see Spike snorting, "A beard, mate? Those western movies rubbin' off on ya?"

Gingerly he ran his fingers through the coarse hair and scratched his chin. "Well," he said to his reflection, "... guess I need to shave..."

He grabbed his pack and ruffled through it, pulling out a razor, shaving cream, shampoo, and conditioner. He ran the water in the shower for a few moments to make sure the temperature was right, then stripped and stepped in. Groaning softly, he bowed his head and stood with his hands against the shower wall, letting the cleansing hot water wash over him. It had been so long since he'd gotten a proper shower, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

As he bathed, lavishing soap bubbles on his arms, legs, and chest, his mind wandered. He and Logan had only arrived at the institute yesterday, but he was already uncomfortable. It wasn't simply that he felt like an outsider; that much had been expected. It was the barely concealed hostility that bubbled beneath the surface of nearly everyone he'd met. He could smell it; these people resented him.

Some of it he could puzzle out for himself. Rogue was pretty and popular, and clearly she thought he was a threat to her relationship with Logan. He got the impression that Logan didn't make friends very easily and that this was the first time he'd ever returned from his travels with company. And because many of the students looked up to her, they shared her dislike of him.

He ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his head with shampoo. Okay, so maybe she was being pretty petty, but it wasn't too surprising. Since acquiring Logan's senses, he was beginning to understand a lot about basic animal impulses; hers was one of _the_ most basic. She thought he was a threat and so she acted accordingly.

Still, it made him feel like some kind of leper when he walked through the halls and every child turned away from him.

What he couldn't understand was why the adults had done the same. Mrs. Summers obviously didn't like him, and Mr. Summers seemed to share her distaste. He honestly didn't know why that was so. It seemed like every time he tried to talk to either of them, he was blatantly dismissed or politely ignored.

With a sigh, he stepped out of the shower. His thoughts turned to Jason; he hadn't seen the teen since Storm had spirited him away. He had run into the white-haired woman, though. She wasn't rude to him, but on the two occasions he'd inquired about Jason, she'd said he was settling in and that he should leave the teen be until he was more comfortable.

Only Logan and the Professor really talked to him. He could tell his friend had noticed his poor treatment, but didn't understand it any better than Xander. And as for Xavier, well, Xander got the impression that he was more the type to encourage his students to figure out what they were doing wrong and fix it themselves.

He brushed his hair and pulled it back into a ponytail with a hair tie he'd found in the medicine cabinet. Then he set about shaving off the beard he'd become accustomed to over the past few months. He was tempted to just trim it, but he figured he could always grow it back if he found he really missed it.

When he was done, he looked himself over in the mirror, a satisfied expression crossing his clean-shaven face. He felt more human than he had since he'd started out on his journey with Logan. The time they'd spent together had been good for him; not only had his body filled out with muscles he hadn't even been aware of, he looked older and more mature as well, even without the beard. If he hadn't known he was only nineteen, he would have pegged himself for 25, easily.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten, and he glanced at the clock. It was almost ten at night. He figured it was safe enough to go down to the kitchen and late enough that he wouldn't run into anyone on the way there. He didn't think he could deal with being snubbed on an empty stomach.

o

Xander's plan was almost perfectly executed. He had made it halfway to the kitchen when out of nowhere, a young girl bumped into him. He gave a startled yelp, as did the girl, who'd lost her balance, but he managed to catch her just in time.

She was cute, for a kid, with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. He wondered how he could have missed her. He hadn't _seen_ anyone in the hall...

The girl mumbled an apology, a bright red flushing her cheeks - Xander got the impression she didn't like to talk much - and ran headfirst into the wall.

At least, that's what the dark-haired man had _thought_ she was going to do. He blinked as she passed through it.

"Weird," he muttered under his breath. Shaking his head, he continued to the kitchen.

o

Robert Drake, Bobby to his friends, crept silently through the halls. It wasn't as though anyone would care he was up; he just didn't want to disturb anyone on his nightly quest for munchies. Rogue and Johnny teased him about it all the time, but he didn't care. He was a growing man, dammit, and his body demanded sustenance.

With a tiny smile, he snuck into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, rummaging around for something that appealed to him. After careful debate, he settled on three slices of cold pizza, an ice cream bar, and a bottle of Diet Coke. He'd just managed to balance his feast in his arms when a quiet voice behind him asked, "Hungry?"

Bobby spun around, dropping the soda and the ice cream bar in surprise. By some miracle, he managed to hold on to the pizza.

The rugged, dark-haired man regarded him curiously from his seat at the table. "Sorry," he said with a tiny smile, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"S'okay," Bobby responded automatically as he knelt to pick up his food. "Who the hell _are_ you?"

Quirking a brow, the man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I didn't think it would make me so unrecognizable. Then again, when I walked through the hallway this morning, you and your buddies were doing your best to ignore me, so maybe it's not so surprising."

Chagrined, the young mutant realized that this was the man Rogue had told him about. He _did_ look different without the beard; there was a boyish quality in his face that hadn't been there before. Though, as the man had so tactfully pointed out, he'd been doing his best to look anywhere _but_ his face.

"Um..." Bobby began uncertainly.

"It's all right. You better just get your food and go. Your girlfriend'll probably rail you out if she finds out you actually talked to me." The dark-haired man sighed and sipped his coffee.

Bobby heard quiet resignation in the man's voice and he wondered why Rogue seemed to dislike him so much. He didn't _seem_ like a bad guy. And, if he was going to be totally honest with himself, he hadn't really been comfortable with what Rogue had asked him to do. He'd agreed to it because he really liked her, and because if he was the only one who _didn't_ ignore the man, he'd probably end up alienating himself even more.

Finally he asked, "What's your name?"

The man answered cautiously, "Alexander Harris, but everyone calls me Xander. You?"

"Robert Drake. Everyone calls me Bobby," he answered in much the same voice.

"Nice to meet you, Bobby."

"Same here." Silently he padded over to the table and put his food on the table. He asked, "Mind if I sit with you?"

"What is this? The lunch room at school?" Xander smiled, then indicated a chair. "Of course I don't mind. This is my first shot at human contact in like, two days."

Blushing, Bobby stuttered out a quiet but heartfelt apology. Xander gracefully accepted and the two of them began to talk. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but the young mutant quickly found they had a lot in common. The conversation darted back and forth like quicksilver, ranging from music and movies, to sports and cars. They didn't stay on any one subject for too long, but even so, there was no shortage of topics to discuss. Again, Bobby found himself wondering _why_ Rogue had been so adamant in her dislike of the older man. That thought prompted him to ask, "So, how old are you anyway?"

Grinning, Xander replied playfully, "Guess."

After careful debate, weighing both his appearance and his attitude, Bobby hazarded, "Twenty-four?"

The dark-haired man laughed. "Not even close. Try more like nineteen."

Bobby dropped his ice cream bar in shock. "No way."

"Way." Xander's grin took up his whole face.

"_I'm_ nineteen," the blonde responded, shaking his head as he retrieved his abused ice cream bar, "and there is like, _no_ way you and me are the same age."

"Oh, like some old guy would actually be able to quote every line from Pinky and the Brain by heart?"

"Point." Bobby nibbled on his snack and replied thoughtfully, "I guess I have to stop thinking of you as 'sir' now, huh?"

They both laughed and Xander replied, "I think that'd be a good start. If you do that, I promise not to think of you as 'kid' anymore."

In an age-old ritual, Bobby spit on his hand and extended it towards Xander. The dark-haired man did the same and they shook on it. "Deal."

A quick glance at the clock showed it was nearing two in the morning, and having noted the frequent yawns that punctuated their conversation, Xander tactfully suggested, "I'm beat. Care to call it a night?"

"Sounds good," the blonde replied easily.

Cautiously, Xander asked, "So... tomorrow do you and I go back to being strangers?"

Slowly Bobby shook his head, "Nah. I don't know what Rogue's deal is, and frankly, I don't care anymore. You're like, ten times cooler than she is anyway, and if she can't get over it, that's her deal. 'Sides, I've been thinking about this, about the way we've been treating you, and it makes _no_ sense. It's like humans hating us just because we're mutants, y'know?"

The dark-haired man grinned, "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it. So, you got any plans for tomorrow night? 'Cause I'm _so_ going to be raiding the kitchen and-" Bobby cut off abruptly. Xander swayed on his feet, looking as though he was going to be sick. "You okay, Xan?"

"Yeah," Xander swallowed and shook his head as if to clear it. "I think. I feel kind of..." He tipped forward and Bobby barely managed to catch him before he hit the floor.

"Shit! What's wrong? Are you...?" The young mutant pressed his hand to his new friend's forehead and swore again. "You're burning up!"

Xander mumbled something in response, and Bobby looked around in a panic. No one was up, and if he called for help, he had no idea how long it would take anyone to get to the kitchen. Quickly coming to a decision, he half-carried, half-dragged Xander towards the basement and Dr. McCoy's medlab.

o

"Hank! Hank, wake up!"

Groaning softly, Dr. Henry McCoy slowly pulled himself out of bed. It was on nights such as these he wondered if his occupational choice had been the right one. True, he knew his calling in life was to help others, but why was it that the others he'd dedicated his life to needed saving at -

Blearily, he glanced at the clock.

- 2:17 in the _morning_.

"Hank! Aw, c'mon Hank, please wake up!" The voice of his young friend drifted to his ears, accompanied by the banging of what he supposed was Bobby's fist, and frowning, he hurried to his door. He unlocked it and pulled it open, not sure what to expect.

Of course, of all the possibilities that _had_ crossed his mind, an unconscious dark-haired man draped across his friend's arms hadn't even made it to the list.

He relieved Bobby of the man's weight and carried him to one of the MedStretchers. "What happened?" he asked tersely as he examined the man for injuries.

"We were just talking in the kitchen," Bobby explained, "and he just... fell. I didn't know what to do, Hank, so I brought him here. I mean, he seemed like he was fine..."

Other than a high fever, Henry found no life-threatening external injuries. He quickly set one of his machines to scan the man, and he turned to his young, very distressed friend. "Who is he, Robert?"

"Xander." Bobby's eyes never left the dark-haired man's inert body. "He came in with Logan yesterday. What... what's wrong with him, Hank?"

The furry, blue mutant turned to his computer to look over the results of the first scan. So _this_ was the man everyone was talking about. The Professor had scheduled him for a series of tests the next day. He briefly wondered if he'd seen the man when he first arrived, then perhaps he could have caught whatever was wrong with him before it became a problem. Henry quickly pushed the thought aside; whatever happened, he had to deal with Xander in the present and speculating on "what ifs" would do him no good.

"Other than the fever, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him... but don't worry, Bobby. I promise you, if there is something wrong, I'll find it." Henry smiled in a reassuring manner. "Why don't you get some rest? I'll take care of Xander."

"I don't..." Bobby stared at his bare feet and swallowed. "I don't want to leave him, Hank."

A furry paw waved towards one of the sickbeds. "You're welcome to stay, Robert, but having you collapse and worrying about the both of you isn't something I'd herald. Sleep. I promise, if anything happens I'll wake you."

The sandy-haired mutant gave Henry a tired smile and a nod of appreciation. "Thanks, Hank."

Returning the smile with one of his own, Henry responded softly, "Goodnight, Robert."

o

Spike sighed, staring up at the top of the cave he was currently occupying. He was stretched out, all set to sleep the day away. After his night of tracking the whelp through the woods, he was exhausted. Still, he couldn't seem to sleep. If he was honest with himself, he would admit it was mostly because of Xander.

Every day he tracked the boy, it became harder and harder to distinguish his scent from the woods. It was almost as though whatever made the man he was with so... feral... was starting to rub off. But that was impossible. No one could change their own scent. If he was honest, that worried him. Who was this man and what did he have to do with Xander? Why did the whelp just pick up and leave without a word to any of them? And why was his scent changing? If he was honest, there was more than a little fear mixed in with his concern.

But he wasn't honest. He was the Big Bad, after all. Evil vampire and everything that went with it. He was supposed to lie.

Even if that meant lying to himself.

o