Title: The Dopplegang Effect

Author: Becka

Chapter 09: Learning How to Fly

o

Bobby crept quietly along the hallways. He wished that he were as stealthy as Logan, because every few feet he managed to step on a loose floorboard which would creak loudly. No one had come out to see what the noise was, so he supposed everyone was sound asleep.

It was early in the morning. Much too early, in his opinion, to be up and about. But it seemed that now was the only time he'd have all day to slip away and see Xander.

After he'd brought Xander to Hank's lab, he had hardly seen the dark-haired mutant around the institute. The few glimpses he had caught had been fleeting, out of the corner of his eye, and before he'd even had the time to call out his friend's name, he was already gone. It was like Xander was a ghost or something.

All of the adults had been exceptionally tight-lipped when it came to Bobby's subtle inquiries about the dark-haired man, and the only way he'd learned _anything_ was by listening in on conversations and gossip when no one was paying attention to him.

That night they'd talked, Xander hadn't mentioned anything about his mutation, but from what Bobby had heard, he could apparently learn mutant abilities. The school had been buzzing the day before, about how Professor Summers had cancelled all of her classes, and some speculated that she was teaching Xander how to control telepathy, or maybe telekinesis.

After that, he'd begun to wonder if maybe the reason Xander had blacked out on him was because he'd learned Bobby's ice power. The thought of having someone to love the cold with him excited him a little bit. In fact, he'd briefly entertained the notion of both of them iced up, playing in a bank of snow in the summer.

So now he was on a mission to find his friend. He missed talking to him, though they'd only shared the one conversation, so he crossed his fingers and hoped that Xander was in his room.

Bobby was so lost in these thoughts, and in trying not to make anymore floorboards creak, that he didn't notice a pair of bright green eyes following him as he walked through the halls.

o

Rogue's eyes narrowed as they followed Bobby. He was actually going to do it! He was going to ignore everything she'd told him and visit that... that _man_!

It had been bad enough when _he'd_ arrived at the Institute. After all, if anyone deserved to travel with Logan, it was her! She and Logan had something... special. When he'd saved her life, she'd absorbed some of his memories and feelings. She _knew_ he cared about her; he'd risked his life to save her, after all. And she knew how lonely he was. She wanted nothing more than to be there for him. And then that_man_, Xander, had just waltzed right in from nowhere and taken Logan away from her.

Xander couldn't possibly understand how Logan felt. He couldn't possibly be there for the older man like she could. If Logan would only just give her the chance, she knew she could prove that what she felt - and what she knew he felt for her - was something profound.

But every time she tried to talk to Logan, _he_ was always in the way!

And now Bobby, her own _boyfriend_, was neglecting her in favor of Xander! It was simply unforgivable.

If only she could catch Xander by himself, she could touch him and find out what was so great about him. She wondered if maybe he had a mutant charm power or something. That, at least, would explain why the two most important people in her life seemed to be drawn to him.

Shaking her head, she decided to retire to her room for the rest of the morning. He supposedly had attacks, or something. Maybe she could catch him off-gaurd during one of those...

o

Bobby knocked softly on Xander's door. There was no answer, so he opened it and peeked inside, hoping that his friend was sleeping.

He did _not_ expect to see both Xander and Logan, curled up against each other on the bed with Xander's wings gently folded around both of them like a giant, feathery blanket.

The sandy-haired boy let out a startled cry. Okay, he could deal with Xander in the same bed with Logan, even if he'd never thought of the older mutant as a cuddler. However, his eyes widened marginally when he managed to wrap his mind around the fact that Xander had _wings_.

It was most likely that he'd managed to pick up Warren's original mutation, before Sinister had gotten a hold of him and torn the millionaire's natural wings off, replacing them with metal likenesses. Bobby had never seen Warren's original wings, though. He wondered if they made him look like as much of an angel as they did for Xander.

Apparently his soft cry was more than enough to wake Xander and Logan, because both jerked upright. Xander's wings fluttered uncertainly, and Logan's claws were out before Bobby even had time to blink. The sandy-haired mutant raised his hands in an age-old gesture of peace and he quickly shut the door behind him.

"Sorry," he said, and he watched the sleep clear from Xander's eyes. Logan grunted and retracted his claws.

"Bobby!" The newly-winged man smiled. "Hey, man. What's up?"

Bobby tried to keep his eyes from staring at Xander's bare chest. It wasn't working. He relied on his trusty Bobby-babble to see him through. "Hey, Xan. You haven't, y'know, been around much, and I kinda' kiss... MISSED you, so I figured I'd stop by. Before my classes and stuff, I mean, 'cause every time I do see you, you never stick around long enough for me to get more than two words out of my mouth, and I figured, being friends and all, I should come and see you, 'cause I overheard the Hankmeister talking to the Professor about how you collapsed again, and I wanted to stop by and wish you the chest. Best!" he blushed.

Xander's brow quirked, but he otherwise ignored Bobby's slip-ups. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the corner of Logan's mouth twitch, too.

"So... um..." Bobby coughed. "... wings?" He swallowed, then asked, "Can I... I mean, could I... touch them...?"

His friend laughed. "Sure, Bobby. You can touch them. I'm still kind of getting used to the fact that they're there."

Bobby glided forward, reaching out a hand to pet the most unbelievably soft feathers he'd ever encountered. "Wow," he said, awed. "Warren is going to be _so_ jealous."

Xander blinked. "Why? You mean, because I have feather wings and he has metal ones?"

Logan spoke up for the first time since Bobby entered the room. "He used ta have wings like that, 'fore Sinister tore 'em off."

"Someone... tore them off?" There was horror in Xander's voice.

"Yeah," the older mutant continued tonelessly. "Replaced them with those metal wings he has now..."

"Great." Xander sighed as Bobby continued to stroke his wings. "Another reason for the guy to hate me."

The sandy-haired mutant said offhandedly, "It probably wouldn't be such a big deal if Warren still had his actual wings."

"Oh?" Xander got a speculative look in his eyes, but before Bobby or Logan could press the issue, he stood and reached for one of his shirts. He frowned slightly.

"Um..." The winged mutant turned pleading eyes to his two friends. "... how do I put this on?"

o

A gentle mind-probe revealed to Xander that not only was Warren awake, but he was sitting by himself on the roof. Thankfully, it was still early enough that he didn't run into anyone on his way there. He had enough problems with them alternately staring at him, then ignoring him, that he didn't want to deal with any issue his new wings might create.

He had _wings_.

It was surreal, in a way. He had wings, and he could feel them. He could move them with the same mindless ease it took to move his arms. And something inside him told him that if he spread them, he could _fly_.

The pain he'd felt last night was still fresh in his mind, but even so, he knew that everything he'd gone through had been worth it. When he was a kid, he had dreams about being able to fly. Now he had wings. He felt as though he was still dreaming. Like maybe, he was going to wake up in the basement of his father's house at any moment and find that all this had been nothing more than his subconscious playing tricks on him.

He managed to shake that feeling by the time he reached the roof. There was something he had to do to make this right, even if it was all a dream. And while he had no idea _what_ he was supposed to do, he felt something pushing him forward. It was a whisper of what he'd felt when he'd first met Logan. It was change, an evolution, and just as he had done then, he rode with it.

Warren was perched on an outcropping, staring blindly off into the hazy mist where the sun would soon rise. As Xander scuffed his feet across the concrete floor, he turned his head and stared. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. It was abruptly shattered when the blonde began to laugh hysterically.

"That's _fucking_ perfect, isn't it," Warren said, shoulders shaking. "I mean, of course it is. You get wings. Five fucking days here and you get fucking _wings_. Not like these," he spread his own wings wide, and the few rays of sunlight visible caught on them and gleamed. "Nothing like these. You get the real deal. And I bet everyone's going to say it's all the same. It's all the fucking same to them because THEY. DON'T. KNOW."

"I..." Xander's voice trailed off in the heat of Warren's righteous anger.

"It's not the _same_," came the soft growled. "To fly with these... these... _perversions_... metal instead of feathers..." He swallowed and shook his head. "It's not the same at all."

"Warren-"

"Don't talk to me. Don't you _dare_ fucking talk to me," the other man replied. He spun around and launched himself off the building. His metallic wings caught a draft of wind and he glided away.

Without a second thought, Xander followed him.

They spiralled through the air like God's own angels, magnificent and ethereal. The dark-haired mutant had no concept of time. He might have been chasing Warren for an hour, or maybe only a moment had passed. All he knew was that he had to catch the blonde, and with a furious flap of his wings, he surged forward and wrapped his arms around Warren.

They spiralled through the air again, only this time they were falling. Warren tried to pull up, to free himself, but Xander's arms were locked in a death grip. They plummeted through the trees and crashed into the ground. The younger mutant managed to take most of the impact into his own body.

Warren lay still in his arms. Breathing heavily, Xander wondered if the other man was all right, but he wasn't quite ready to release his hold until he was sure the blonde wouldn't try to escape again.

"Warren...?" he whispered, feeling the older mutant's body tremble.

It only took Xander a moment to realize that the blonde was... crying.

"God damn you. God fucking _damn_ you," Warren sobbed.

The dark-haired man closed his eyes and whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'll fix this, Warren... I promise."

Xander didn't know how, but his instincts seemed to take hold of him. He gently reached into the other man's mind, into his very soul. The pain there, the pain of knowing what it was like to soar, and the pain of having that feeling ripped away from him, was one of the worst things Xander had ever felt.

He reached blindly around for those memories, when Warren had wings of feathers and flesh, and forced his mind to accept Warren's body as his own. For a moment they became one. They knew they were broken. And now, they knew how to fix it. And screaming with the pain, they did.

It was some time later that Xander returned to his own body. He found his arms were wrapped around Warren. He didn't let go, because he remembered how he'd felt when Logan had held him like this.

Around them, splinters of metal littered the ground. They were the last vestiges of the wings Sinister had given Warren. As Warren's wings had grown back, they cracked like a casing, shattering to reveal glorious feathers.

Laying there, holding the blonde man as he sobbed, Xander realized the Professor had been right. What he had, what he could do... it was a gift. He held Warren who cried joyfully for something he thought he'd never have again. His tears were those of a blind man who, for the first time in his life, had seen the sunset.

o

Spike sighed, leaning against the wall of his latest cave. He felt... inadequate. He'd been so certain he could find Xander. After all, it wasn't as though he'd expected the dark-haired man to make it very far.

This journey had been a testament of just how little he'd learned in 120 years of unlife. The first thing Angelus had taught him was never to underestimate a target, be they demon, human, or anything in the vast shades of gray in between.

His demonic visage came forward as he growled softly. He knew better. He fucking _knew_ better. After all, hadn't he been disgusted with Slutty and her following for not giving the whelp the credit he deserved? Hadn't he lived with the boy, watching while pretending not to watch, as Xander had dealt with everything his incompetent parents had dealt out?

And yet, he was guilty of the same. He'd completely ignored what he'd tried to tell Slutty and assumed that Xander wouldn't make it far enough to present him any sort of problem. He'd fully expected to find the whelp a few towns away, living his life the way he'd always done.

Briefly, he wondered if he should just give up and head back to Sunnydale. The lil' bit would be disappointed, but... after his blatant dismissal of the boy's talents, did he really _deserve_ to find Xander?

"Fuck it," he muttered. "I don' believe in you, God, an' I'm sure you have no use for me, but if you want me to keep goin', send me a fuckin' sign or somethin'."

A loud crash outside his cave startled him out of his monologue. Careful not to let any of the sunlight that filtered through the tree tops touch him, he poked his head through the mouth of the cave to see what was going on.

Two angels, wrapped in each other's arms, greeted his disbelieving eyes.

Maybe his diet of rabbit blood had gone and addled his brain. He shook his head, staring at the two winged creatures, and wondered if he'd finally lost the few threads of sanity he had left.

Both angels were beautiful beyond any standard, human or demon, but Spike had no interest in the blonde.

All his attention was focused on the angel wearing Xander's face.

He watched as the pair of metal wings shattered, leaving feathers in its wake. He watched as the dark-haired angel helped the blonde one to his feet. And he watched as they spread their wings and took to flight, noting with keen interest the direction they headed in.

He spared a single glance to the sky, and muttered, "Right bastard you are, mate. Ta."

o