Metaphysical Plane
Whistler sat back as the 'meeting' went underway. He almost sighed out loud at how familiar this particular scene was. Well, it wasn't the first time there had been a mass meeting about this particular mortal.
"He should have been eliminated from the very beginning." The voice was deep, thunderous, and not just a small bit menacing.
This was how the meeting always began when discussing Alexander. Sure, the notion of what should have been done, but was not done, is a great way to rile up the crowd. Though, the truth of the matter was that, in the beginning, Alexander Harris wasn't even a blip on their radar.
That, in and of itself, was nothing special. With all of the billions of people in the world, there are a great many of them that will never show up on the radar of supernatural beings. Had Xander never encountered the supernatural, he could have been like many of the other inhabitants of the mortal realm.
There are many 'wild cards' at any given time. There aren't a set number, but you can be assured that there are quite a few out there. They are what keep the Powers, both the light and the dark, constantly updating their plans. However, as most wild cards have little or no direct contact with the supernatural, the indirect effects caused by their actions, can be contained. Though doing so can be a chore, in and of itself.
Alexander Harris, though, was a wild card that had basically immersed himself in the supernatural world. His first appearance as a wild card brought about quite a few changes. Though, no matter what thunderous voices proclaim, never truly brought about the need for such drastic action as directly intervening; in other words, killing the young boy.
"It is true; the Slayer was slated to die on that day." The melodious voice was just above a harmonious whisper, yet seemed to carry across the vast and endless landscape. "Alexander's being upon the surface, and pulling the Slayer into the safety of the sun's rays went against what was pre-ordained. Yet, this was discussed. I believe we made the proper decision then, to not go forward with any action."
There were quite a few murmurs, some in agreement while others could do nothing but disagree. At the time, most of the powers had been stunned by this rather large development. A Slayer had lived when they had been slated to die. Though, in the end, it made little matter. This Slayer would perish, as the Slayer was pre-ordained to do, fighting The Master.
Other events had to be rewritten on both sides. Instead of the souled vampire destroying The Vessel during The Harvest, the Slayer took his place. The darkness took advantage of the relationship that was never meant to be, and already seeds had been planted that may just return one of their own champions, and deal quite a blow to the forces of light at the same time.
Plans were changed and altered. This was not truly an uncommon task on both sides. So, as it was, the decision to let things 'play out' had been decided upon. The true upheaval began the day the impossible happened.
While events looked to be following the new paths laid out, those plans were being altered constantly. There was no way to get around the chaos generated by Xander's very being. He was a wild card, after all. Though both sides had the experience of countless millennia to use strategy and plan and re-plan, none could have been prepared for the true chaos that Xander could bring. The Master's cave was where it all happened. It was where everything had proceeded as planned, and it was where everything blew up in their faces.
The Slayer had died, drowned after being fed on by The Master. Her death had been prophesized long ago, though in truth it was the death of the Slayer, and not the death of Buffy Summers, in particular. Her death was something that seemed to be a fundamental truth. And, as it was such, the plans of both sides laid heavily on that truth. Two events occurred that should not, and by their combined knowledge, could not happen.
The first thing to happen was the resurrection of Buffy Summers. The force of chaos had used CPR to complete a task that should not have been possible. However, the mere fact that she was alive rendered speechless all those watching these important events unfold in dumbfounded shock.
The deafening sound of total and complete silence could be heard for an indeterminate amount of time when the second part, what became known as the most chaotic event in the history of this war took place.
The Slayer spirit was divided into two.
As far as any of them knew, such an event was not possible, let alone plausible. Once the Slayer spirit left the body, should that body be revived, it would no longer be a Slayer. They would be normal, completely and totally mortal.
It appeared though, that there was an indeterminate small amount of time, when the spirit existed both within the dead vessel, and outside, making its way to the next host. And it was in that particular moment, that exact nanosecond in time, that the Slayer's body was revived.
Part of the Slayer essence went back into the original host, while the rest of the essence made its way to the next Potential to be called. In this case, it was making its metaphysical way towards the Jamaican beauty who had been the one originally destined to die fighting The Master.
The essence that went back into the newly revived Slayer was not complete; however, what was missing was soon filled in, incorporated, by the very nature of the girl's soul. She was unique, a first. The Slayer essence within her would remain within her. Should she die, no new Slayer would be called. However, for the first time in recorded, and unrecorded, history there would be two Slayers.
Also, in an unexpected turn of events, the new Slayer would be unique as well. Without the complete essence being passed on, the emotional aspect of the spirit would be harder to control. It was fortunate, for the light, that Kendra was well able to control her emotions. They could only hope that when this essence was passed on, as it was the only one that would be passed on, that the next Slayer would be able to control her emotions as well.
As it was, a call for blood, Xander's blood, was made by the darkness. And, to Whistler, it was a sad fact that while the side of light did not vocalize their agreement, no objections were made either.
Had it not been for The Creator making her presence known, and a decree that went out forbidding any direct action be taken by any of them, or their champions, to make a play on this force of chaos, then Xander Harris would have conveniently met with an 'accident' shortly thereafter, and would never have survived long enough to become a 'household name' in the upper, and lower realms.
Plans that had taken Eons to create, and were constantly being changed had to be rewritten entirely. Those planners, both light and dark, cursed his name on a daily basis. Those in charge of the darkness were simply weary of him. His chaotic nature had, thus far, seemed to be helping out the side of the light. Those that fought for the light, Heaven's Armies, cheered for the young man.
Xander was a white hat, that couldn't be any clearer. His intentions were to fight evil and help his friends, those that fought for the light. That was something that got to Whistler.
Since his existence, as a balance demon, he had only ever worked for The Light. There had never been a time which he knew of, where the scales were not tipped in favor of the darkness. All he had ever known were actions that, he prayed, would at some point help those white hats.
Perhaps that's why he sat back and prayed for the young man who seemed to be an entity made to disrupt balance. Xander's chaotic nature, even as indirect as it was, made its presence known once more. For, had any of the upper beings been looking, they would have seen the chaotic nature of a balance demon's hopes as wishes.
Perhaps it is true that a good part of balance is chaos. For, in the end, should a balance be struck, it would be the harmonious nature of all things, including chaos. Perhaps it could exist, and perhaps it could not. The mere fact that an indirect action of this particular wild card could affect 'balance' in such a way is what caused any and all entities devoted to chaos to worship the young man.
Xander was in no way seen as a deity to these beings. However, prayers and thoughts were sent his way, if only to remember the deeds he had already accomplished, even unknowingly so. He had already brought about more chaos in this eternal war than had ever been witnessed or recorded in its eons long history. Beyond that, unknown to all, save one, it was the worship and thoughts given off by these powerful and chaotic entities that would bring about the biggest change.
It is widely known through the metaphysical plane that worship to a deity gives that being power. The same would be true for Xander. Though the young man in question would never be able to access this power, the effect it had on him, however indirect, was plain to see.
As Ethan Rayne had witnessed earlier that day, Alexander Harris was a veritable nova of chaotic energy. He was a spotlight in the dim glow of this chaotic town. It was this energy, this very aura, which had attracted the chaotic nature of the spell. It was this event that indirectly changed the nature of this game.
It was also why The Creator was about to step in once more. The player had been changed, but her decree had not. It was free will that caused Xander to purchase the gun and badge. It was free will that allowed him to wear the Kryptonian's jacket. It was free will and an indirect spell that lead to the circumstances that they currently faced.
It was Her Will that there be no direct action taken for or against the young man. It was Her Will that had not been broken. And, throughout these chaotic times, with so many things changing, it was Her Will that would be steadfast and unchanging, unyielding, through the ebb and flow of the chaos that suddenly surrounded them all.
The decree would be upheld. Their plans would be changed and events that were written would be re-written. It was only time, and Herself, that could tell what the future would bring. And as per usual, neither of them was talking.
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Kent Farm – moments after the chaos spell ended
Clark had always loved studying in the loft of the barn. It had a quiet and cozy atmosphere. An open window that looked out at the night sky had been able to keep him entranced for hours when he was younger.
Doing work and studying in his small area had become routine. It was where he found himself, relaxing and working on a Friday evening before his life and, in this instance, his parents' lives, were once again turned upside down.
Martha Kent had gone to check up on her son when he had not come down for dinner. She rarely ever needed to repeat herself. With his enhanced hearing, he could basically be anywhere on the farm and hear her when she called.
She had gone up into the loft, expecting to find her son asleep on the couch. The grin that had formed on her face at that thought was quickly wiped away to be replaced by a shocked and concerned expression.
With wide, unblinking eyes she had taken in the form of her son, hovering over the couch. No matter what she had tried, she couldn't get him to budge, let alone wake up.
With all the speed of a worried mother, she ran off to get her husband. However, he had not been able to wake up their hovering son, either. And that had been a while ago.
They were now standing in the far end of the loft, by the banister near the stairs, discussing just what should be done; what, if any, courses of action they had available to them.
The sad fact of the matter was that it was simply not possible not go to any outside venues for help. Any assistance that someone might be able to provide would simply lead to more questions, and problems, in the future.
Jonathan was going over that particular conversation in his head, just one more time, when a startled yelp, followed by a soft thud, finally ending with a more pronounced thud, broke him out of his revelry.
The patter of feet could be heard scurrying across the floor of the loft as Jonathan watched, amazed, as his wife made her way over to their now awake, and non-hovering, son.
'Wow, perhaps Clark picked up his speed from his mother's side of the family.'
He snorted to himself as he made his way over to his son, whose mother was basically huddled over him making sure that their, almost invulnerable, son wasn't physically hurt. The fact that he was only a few steps behind her never entered his mind, nor was the fact that he simply shoved the small table with Clark's books and pencils off to the side. He was vaguely aware of the sound of those books and pencils clattering on the ground. With more room to maneuver, he helped his wife and son up onto the couch, where Martha continued examining her now awake son.
Seeing as how Martha was busy checking over her son, Jonathan decided to pull the table over and use it as a seat. Once that was done, he looked back at his son.
"Clark, are you ok, son? What happened?"
His father's voice barely got through the incessant pounding in Clark's temples. His hands were currently clutching his head as the remains of a migraine began to leave his body. The thought of a migraine felt as though it should trigger something, but he wasn't sure what. Then his father's question, 'What happened?', got through to him, and a floodgate of events, more crazy than anything he could remember, with the exception of one time, not too long ago, began to assault his mind.
He had been back in Sunnydale, and it was today, tonight, since it was currently Halloween, and Willow had said something to the extent of dressing up in costumes. Man, and he thought the existence of vampires was weird. Now he had to face the truth about the existence of magic, ghosts, demons, and who knew what else that was out there.
Xander had actually been wearing his varsity football jacket when the spell had been cast. However, the fact that only certain people, who shopped at a certain store, the name of which eluded him at the moment, seemed to be the ones who were affected.
Then he remembered.
There had been a badge. Not just any badge, but a badge with his Kryptonian name on it. The feeling of having a gun with him was still just odd. But the thought of what the badge represented, 'To Protect and Serve', felt more real and just than he could have believed. When he thought about it, it was how he lived his life now, but it simply felt more natural at the time.
He shook that thought off as events replayed in his mind, from all the trouble they had tried to overcome, to the fights he had to partake in. To the vampires he had to kill, to the final fight he was just about to lose.
God, he had never felt so drained in his life. It wasn't like the few times he had been without power. He had a pretty good understanding that the sun played a great deal in keeping him energized; why else would a solar flare affect him so greatly? It was like he had been running on fumes from the moment he woke up in that chaotic environment. Thankfully, the pain had subsided fairly quickly, with the exception of the mother of all migraines, and that worried him.
If it was his Kryptonian physiology that enabled him to power up with the sun, and that was why he was so weak, would Xander revert back to normal?
Would Willow revert back to normal from her ghost-like state?
He had originally been taken somewhat aback by the attitudes of Xander's friends when he had first seen them in the hospital a couple weeks ago. But there was no doubt in his mind that the young redhead cared for Xander very much. The thought that she could stay dead, stay a ghost, was not something he wanted to truly contemplate.
Further more, he really didn't know what would happen if Xander didn't change back to normal. There hadn't been a doubt in his mind, while he had been occupying Xander's body, that he had all the abilities he normally possessed; he just lacked sufficient power to use them to their fullest extent. And by the end of the night, just keeping active was taxing on his depleted energy reserves.
He hated the thought of using his heat vision on anything, hell, even vampires, especially when they were so close, but at the time he saw no other course of option to take. He just prayed that Xander, however he was physically, was still alive.
The sound of his mother's frantic voice, questioning why he wasn't answering them, brought him out of his thought process, and thankfully, his headache began to subside.
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Jonathan had repeated his question a few more times, though it looked like his son wasn't paying any attention to him. It looked as though Clark was trying to settle what must have been the mother of all headaches.
It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to him that, after asking the same question a few times, his wife only had to ask her son once, and he seemed to snap out from wherever he had been.
With a small grin on his face, and a sigh of contentment, Clark leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, and momentarily reveled in the lack of a headache. Of course, once that moment was over, he realized that he would have to explain to his parents what had happened, which would more than likely bring up what had happened in Sunnydale, both tonight and those few weeks ago. Because if there was one thing he was sure of, that was the need to check up on Xander and his friends. Though, from the extreme worry on both of his parents' face, something told him that more was going on than even he knew.
He gave his parents a curious glance. "What happened?"
Jon and Martha glanced at each other before it was apparently decided that his father would be the spokesperson of the group.
"Well, son, your mother came up here to get you for dinner. When she got up here, she found you unconscious and hovering above the couch." He spared a glance at his wife, who was nodding her head, a faraway look in her eyes. "When she couldn't get you to wake up, or budge an inch, she came and got me." He sighed and looked down at his hands before making eye contact with his bewildered son. "Clark, I really don't know what to tell you, but neither your mother nor I could do anything to wake you up. You were hovering over the couch, and we couldn't get you to move, in any direction. If you hadn't woken up just now, I don't know what we would have done."
Clark felt his mother's grip tighten on him as she tried to comfort herself with the fact that he was all right now.
"Clark, son, do you have any idea what happened?"
Clark looked at both of his parents before suddenly coming to a decision. Getting up from his position on the couch, he traded places with his father, so he could better relate what was going to be one hell of a tale.
"Ok, the first thing you need to know is that I am not crazy." As his parents exchanged a concerned glance at that somewhat disturbing statement, he continued before they could interrupt him. "What I'm about to tell you will sound crazy, even knowing everything we already know." A sheepish expression crossed his face as he admitted, "In fact, if not for tonight, I don't think I was ever planning on telling you this."
His parents exchanged another worried glance as he continued.
"Ok, this all started the day of the solar flare from a few weeks ago. As you know, I wound up in Sunnydale, California, but what you don't know…"
As Clark continued with his tale of that fateful night, he was aware of the fact that his mother wasn't quite sure what to make of all this. He was surprised, however, by the thoughtful look his father was currently expressing.
"So you are telling me that this boy, Xander, tried to save you from a group of vampires?"
Clark just looked at his father as he nodded his head. In a quiet voice he asked, "You know about vampires?"
His father was quiet for a few moments as Martha turned to look at her husband with wide eyes.
"Jonathan, you believe all of this." Her words were a statement of certainty, not a question.
With his eyes locked on Clark, he gave his wife a gentle squeeze. "I've never seen a vampire in my entire life." At that Clark looked down, not sure where his father was going with this. "However, this isn't the first time I've heard of them, and they were described in the exact same manner."
"Who else told you about them?" This came from his wife.
"My father; he used to tell me stories when I was younger, ghost stories and what not." He spared his wife a glance. "Whenever he got into stories about the war, and the monsters that he and his men had encountered, I just thought he was telling another story." Jonathan shivered slightly. "Though, the look in his eyes when he told it…"
Shaking his head, he continued, "Those stories were the only ones that gave me nightmares; that's why he rarely told them to me. But the descriptions he used to use are identical to what you said you encountered." He looked at his wife once more. "After all we've seen, heard, and done, I won't discount what Clark saw, what my father saw."
The only response he got was his wife's head against his shoulder.
Clark digested this information for a moment before shaking his head and continuing with his story.
"So, when I left the hospital, the doctors told his friends that he would be all right. That's the last I heard anything, until tonight." Martha lifted her head off of Jonathan's shoulder as the two parents traded another wary glance. Clark simply nodded. "Now this is where things really get weird."
Clark spent the next while relating the events that he remembered to his parents. He then went on to tell them his worries about Xander, Willow, and the rest. And last, but not least, the fact that, if he was able to use his abilities in Xander's body, then Xander may be able to use those abilities as well. Though, as a human or Kryptonian, was anyone's guess.
The rest of the night was spent talking and making plans. A trip to California seemed well deserved for an upcoming holiday. They just needed to stay off of everyone's radar, especially the Luthors'. And that was something that could quickly prove to be impossible.
However, one thing was certain. Clark needed to find out what happened in Sunnydale, and if everyone was all right.