Featherfall

[madimpossibledreamer]

This is probably a one-shot, seeing as the plotbunny bringing the idea hopped off long ago and it's been sitting around in my files waiting for a continuation since forever.  None's been forthcoming, so here it is in all its 'ancient days' glory.  (It's probably been about three or four years since last update.)
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Summary: They've gotten a call from the Watchers that Xander's gone missing and no one's heard from him in forever.  (Exaggeration, but it's Willow.)
Word Count: 1046
Rating: Gen

        Out of all the Scoobies, it would be Xander who would go missing.  Whelp was a trouble-magnet, no mistake.
        Spike starts from his thoughts at the glowing…something, plummeting from the sky and into the water, a great fountain of water rising in its wake.  Been at this demon thing for a long time, and he could've sworn that'd been a body.  "Bloody 'ell."  Might as well check it out-cautiously, of course, in case it turned out to be another Glory or something.
        Oddly enough, neither in his life nor his unlife had he actually learned to swim.  Not that he really needed to know at this point, since he didn't need to breathe.  He waded in, eyes open.  Whatever had fallen didn't seem to be moving too much, but the rest of the water was disturbed, pond scum everywhere, and even the fish seemed a little panicked.  As he went, something in his head, the instincts that had kept him alive for so long, began to tingle a bit too, warning that he should stay far, far away from whatever was there.  Not as if I listen well, mate.
        He saw a denim-clad leg, and a tennis shoe.  Instincts weren't wrong.  And a fall like that—clearly dead, now.  Well, at least I can pull 'im out 'n see what's what.  Even water-logged, the body was unwieldy and heavy, but Spike managed, though he had to tug hard a couple times when something got snagged on a rock or whatever.
        In the shallows, he began to see the slightest hints of the greater form, and that's about the point where his brain shut down and refused to actually process what he was seeing.  Proceeding on the assumption that he'd gone temporarily insane but it'd soon clear up, he dragged the body further out and splayed it out on the rocks.  Unfortunately, the hallucination didn't go away.
        "Well, I found your misplaced Watcher," Spike muttered, continuing to stare.
        Oddly enough, the eyepatch hadn't been displaced at all.  The kid wasn't wearing anything of what the vampire was used to seeing.  No loud, colorful shirts, no logo shirts.  A somewhat dressy shirt, which honestly didn't look bad on him, formal black jeans, and a coat that looked like it had been stolen from either him or Angel.  The sword was a new accessory.  It shone in a way not even the most polished metal did, so he thought it was probably best to avoid that.  At least he recognized the shoes.
        The face was right, if grimmer than he'd ever expect from the goofy man he'd come to know over the years.  The hair was wet, plastered all over the forehead.  The smell was almost just as he remembered, but the added…he didn't know how to describe it.  The smell of light and purifying fire, and fitting the wayward Watcher like a glove, but also enough to panic his demon.  He beat that part of his mind into submission without a second thought.
        Probably another good hint that something was up, though, was the wings.  They were actually attached to Xander, bloodied and battered as they were.  Feathers were missing everywhere, and were blackened in places, as if the whelp had been in a giant fire.  Between that and the bloody gash on the Scooby's leg and the other scrapes on the body, a blind fish could see that the idiot had been through battle.  Without me, no less.  Didn't anyone tell him it's important to share?
        "Well, bugger me.  What am I supposed to do?" he asked the air.
        No answers were forthcoming.
        "Lots of help you are," he scolded it, then turned his attention back to the limp body lying on the rocks.  "I can't just leave you here, whelp."  He knelt, about to start chest compressions to at least get the water out of the lungs, when he felt something coming at him and moved out of the way.
        He turned to see a tall, horned demon grinning at him.  "A human playing at being a demon protecting one of them.  You'll be easy enough, and after that it'll be time for roast birdie.  I'm in a mood for feathers tonight."
        "Oh, bigger lads than you've said that, before," Spike taunted.  He needed a weapon.  Sorry, pet, but I'll need to borrow this.  He dodged another attack, prying the sword from Xander's clammy hand.  He screamed, vision turning completely white for a moment, falling to one knee as the sword burned.
        "Playing with a pigeon's belongings just leads to pain, impure blood," the demon taunted, charging with claws at the ready.
        Suddenly his vision cleared, as did the pain.  The agony was replaced with a cockiness, a comfort.  He's going down.  He swung the sword, and the demon snarled in shock, narrowly avoiding the blade as it began to burn with a fire, licking down the blade, that oddly enough didn't cause Spike any discomfort at all.
        Words came from behind him, words that were familiar and yet unrecognizable, and the demon yelled, this time in panic, charging with a rage that, in any other situation, would have the vampire all hyped up about the start of a good fight.  In this case, though, he managed a smirk and speared the demon on the sword, which lit up with a furious fire that had it hissing with fear as it squirmed around and attempted to pull itself off the blade.  It didn't have time to get far, as it started to dissolve into ash and then was suddenly gone on the wind.
        "S-Spike?" asked a quiet, very confused voice from behind the vampire.  He turned to see Xander begin to collapse.  Again.
        "Not this time, mate."  He caught the body, which seemed a lot lighter than it had been the first time.  "You've got a bunch of very good people worried about you, you know."
        Xander clutched at his head, moaning.  "Spike, I can't…I feel like I'm splitting open.  I…help, help me…memories, they're mine….no, no, they're not, I…"
        The Watcher continued to mutter helplessly, desperately, into Spike's collar bone.  "Don't worry, mate, we'll figure this out, right?  You also happen to know a lot of intelligent people, you know."
        "Nnrgh," the drenched brunette informed him.