Last Man's Dead

[madimpossibledreamer]

(I actually recognized one of the demo videos showing on the Best Buy screens.  Why?  Because it's legit this scene, and yes, I spent forever trying to get the best-looking screencap from this scene [Red Cliff, it's amazing, go watch it now. and then come back and read the rest of this.])
I say that and then accidentally switch the icon not paying attention.  Durr.

Also.  Oh boy.  This did not go anywhere I intended.  I'm not kidding around with the warnings, this chapter is dark and to cover my bases I'll basically spoil everything in my summary, just so anyone interested in the series past this wants to know what happened without clicking below the cut.  It's messing around with noncon themes, like my Star Trek fic Tomorrows Never Planned, but Xander doesn't have the objective distance Jim arguably has with his cambion-self.  Other than it being prolonged, I'd call it pretty similar to the Consequences scene with Faith, but just...stay safe out there, ya'll.  I was super uncomfortable writing it (moreso than the aforementioned ST fic...but then, I hadn't planned it at all, which might've freaked me out even more).  Half of me just wanted to rush this out and then hide under the bed, and half of me wanted to never post it.
Basically, for the longest time, I just knew that Jesse's turning and subsequent dusting were a lot more traumatic for Xander than even canon (bad enough it made him run for the hills).  And then this rolled out of my keyboard, and I just stared at it for a bit going 'what even just happened'. 
Xander will deal with it pretty much the same way he deals with everything traumatic in canon: denial.  I will reference past stuff, though, because I'm a writer that writes continuity.  I'll tag that when I get there, too.
Honestly, this is partly due to the fact that I feel like Jesse is pretty much everything bad the fandom thinks about Xander, though that might be due to the fact that we got a really shallow look at him in two episodes before he died. 
It is super important for his backstory, though, and it's referenced in his character music (I have a battle theme, I have not one, but two DT themes...it's gonna be lit.  So, that's something to look forward to at least).
You ask why I just don't post it then, and it's...well, like I said, it's important.  It does help his empathy toward others in similar situations (pretty sure that's why his attitude toward Spike changes in the DMC2 of the Buffyverse), and it does a whole lot in maturing him pretty quickly (even if he's repressing and therefore not gonna show it most of the time).
I need to stop just expanding the author's note and just post this.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry Crossover, Buffy AU
Chapter Summary: Vampire Jesse assaults Xander, and the stress causes some demonic heritage to poke through.
Word Count: 1986
Rating: Teen.  At least.
Warning: Sexual assault.  Some more offhand stuff about physical assault from his "Dad", Tony Harris.

 

          Xander nearly jumps nine feet when he feels the touch on his lower back.  No one, not even Willow, does that, and it felt—oddly—sensual.  Of course, he’s dancing at the Bronze, but still…
          He turns and sees a familiar face.  “Where have you been?” he asks Jesse.  “Willow was getting really worried about you.”  He was too, but apparently guys don’t talk about that.  Do they?
          “I’ve been…around,” Jesse states vaguely, with a smug, creepy smile that says something happened.  “I found a better woman—still sexy, but doesn’t have Cordy’s attitude.”
          “Oh.  Wow.”  He tries to grin like he’s happy for his friend, but there’s something wrong that he can’t quite put his finger on, and he shifts a little on his feet.
          “Look, I’ll go find Willow and tell her everything’s fine, and then we can go hang out at my place.  My parents aren’t home.”  He disappears back off into the crowd, and that’s something else.  He didn’t wait for any kind of response.  Willow doesn’t know, but at least Jesse knows to check whether it’s a good day for it before he makes any plans.  He must be really excited about something.  And there’s something about the way he moves—it’s more graceful than Jesse’s ever been in his life, but…
          This time there’s a hand on his butt, and he definitely startles a little.  Less than a minute later, Jesse appears at his shoulder, a little close for comfort.
          “Dude, if you’re gonna be weird every time you get laid, stay away from us for a bit, okay?”  He pushes the palm of his hand into Jesse’s face, and his friend looks angry for a moment before he laughs it off.
          “Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m hanging out with you and not Willow, then, right?” Jesse laughs, and that’s…
          That’s super creepy.
          “What are you talking about?”  He’s really kinda uncomfortable now.  “You’re really lucky she’s not here, because seriously, you’re being creepy.  I’m starting to think the Cordy-obsession is rotting your brain.”
          “I’m looking pretty good for a zombie, though, right?” Jesse asks, grinning and making weird shambling gestures with his legs and arms.
          He takes a moment, looks his friend over as he unlocks the gate and therefore isn’t watching him like a creep.  There’s this…weird glow.  Though from everything he’s read, that’s a side effect of sex, so maybe that’s it?  “Eh, you look fine.  It’s just the way you’re acting that’s super weird.  And you’re going to need to lay it off by the time you see Will again.”
          “Bossy, bossy,” Jesse complains, but at least the playful banter is a little more normal.  “Let’s head to my room.  We can maybe try to get farther on that one game, or we can watch another movie.  Up to you.”
          The conversation wanders over to the latest comics at the shop, which is a lot more normal, and he almost forgets about the weirdness until they get up to Jesse’s room.  He walks over to close the door, and suddenly there’s the weird touch again.  He’d been trying not to think about the odd coincidence of Bad Touch and Jesse appearing, but he can’t pretend it’s not happening now.
          Because it’s just him and Jesse in the house, and those are hands sneaking underneath his boxers, grabbing at his hip-bones and pulling him into a solid body behind him.  That’s…his friend’s hard.
          “What’re you doing?  Let go; this isn’t funny,” he insists, elbowing the stomach behind him.  It’s a kind of mean move, but this is just not cool.  Unfortunately, his friend doesn’t even flinch.
          “But you just make such great noises when you struggle,” Jesse purrs, upping the creep factor, and—yeah, that rocking feeling into him—
          Jesse might just be playing chicken.  He’s done that before, actually.  But there’s something wrong here.  Xander’s been feeling something off this whole time, and he really should’ve acted on it before now.  He tries to push the hands away, but they’re strong, stronger than Jesse had ever been before.
          The hands caress his hips, tracing circles on the skin, and he shudders.  And then there are lips, warm and wet, kissing his neck.
          “Please.  Jesse, stop,” he begs, and to his humiliation he’s crying.
         “You’ll change your tune soon enough,” Jesse states dismissively.  “You’ll be begging for it in the end.  Trust me, it’s pretty great.  It’ll just be you, me, and Willow.  Forever.”
          And the kiss at his neck turns into a bite, just as one of those hands slips up under his shirt and tweaks a nipple, and even worse, he feels the beginnings of pleasure.  No, body, he doesn’t want this, does he?
          He’s suddenly, with a surge of strength, pinned against the door.  His frantic struggling barely gets their bodies to move anymore.  And the bite…something’s wrong.  It’s actually sinking into his neck, and the agony is beyond anything he’s experienced before.  Even that time his dad put him in the hospital didn’t feel that bad.  And even then, his wires have to be crossed, or something, because he’s suddenly, painfully hard, and he’s loudly sobbing against the door.
          “You taste so good,” Jesse moans into his skin.
          Something twists in his blood.  Ugly, dark.  No.
          He places both hands flat against the door and pushes, blood suddenly burning.
          They fall backward, which is shocking, considering what little his strength had managed to do before.  The hands clutch at his body, as the one beneath his boxers slides to somewhere it really shouldn’t be, and the fangs at his neck rip through skin like tissue paper.  He hears the crack of the skull below him against the carpet.  The pain from his neck helps him keep his sense of priorities.
          “Why would you do that?” Jesse hisses, sounding a little dazed, and his grip slackens—so even monsters can be knocked off guard by hitting their head.
          With one hand, Xander reaches backward and slams Jesse’s head into the floor again, forcing the other hand open (disgustingly, from the sound and feel, breaking a few fingers in the process—he’s not that strong and yet it’s happening somehow) and out of his pants, and in one smooth motion rolls away into some sort of combat crouch, hand pressed to the side of his neck where he feels the sharp pain like someone’s ripped a key through his flesh.  He’s pretty sure the coolness of the move was ruined by the fact that his pants sounded like they ripped during that whole thing.
          As expected, Jesse’s face doesn’t look human.  The possibilities at this moment were either monster or dream, so Xander’s not as surprised as he could be.
          It only takes the monster wearing Jesse’s face a few seconds to catch on.  “No, never mind.  The why is because you’re still acting oh-so-very human, which don’t worry, I plan on curing you of.  The better question is—how?  Because that strength doesn’t feel fully human to me.”
          Xander concentrates on his breathing, tries to ignore the burning feeling rising within him.  He’s panting, trying to concentrate, but his vision’s feeling hazy, like waves of heat are obscuring his vision.  “You tell me, man.  I didn’t even have a clue that the supernatural existed until today.”
          Jesse grins.  The really weird thing is, even with that monstrous mask, that particular twist of the grin, even with the fangs, is totally McNally.  Or, y’know, what’s left of him, given that he’s not meeting Xander’s eyes, just staring hungrily at the neck where a few red streams are running past the hand trying to stop the bleeding.  “Yeah, we were clueless bastards, weren’t we?  Though in your case, that might be a little more literal than not, because, thinking about it, your blood didn’t even taste completely human.”
          And then Jesse picks something up, and then—
          Pain in the fleshy part of his thigh.  It must’ve been that sword, because Xander doesn’t know anything else in Jesse’s house he could’ve possibly been stabbed with, not from that distance.
          And he can’t hold the burning feeling back anymore.  It consumes him, a raging inferno with himself as the center, and he throws his head back and screams, shaking with the fury of the change working its way through him.  He can’t even fully tell if it’s a scream of pain or ecstasy or a feral battle cry. 
          The fire runs through his veins at a hundred miles per second, tearing through his flesh more easily than Jesse’s fangs.
          He shivers and opens his eyes and wonders why the world looks weird. 
          “Wow.  Neat,” is Jesse’s proclamation, hissed around the fangs, but it sounds odd, too.
          “What is?” he responds, and blinks.  Twice.  He has two sets of lids.  And that’s no human voice.  His mouth feels weird.
          “That’s totally a demon form, dude.  Awesome,” the vampire responds.  “Wait, could I even sire you like this?”
          “That sounds dirty, and I wouldn’t recommend it,” he suggests.
          Jesse nods.  “Yeah, okay.  New plan: you join us vampires with your half-demonness, and you, me, and Willow still have eternity together.”
          “Don’t you dare touch her!” he screams, the full fury of his…whatever it is sending an extra echo through his voice.  Though it’s all he can do to keep the bloodlust, the way he wants to rip and tear and make Jesse feel the same pain and fear, at bay.
“Oooh, Xander’s got a crush.  Bro, you should’ve told her ages ago; it’s not nice to keep a woman waiting.”  Jesse’s acting like normal, but he can’t be normal.
          “I don’t have to want her to protect her,” he states firmly, and he sounds…he sounds cool.  He swallows.  “Look, I—I’ll go with you, willingly.  Just leave Willow out of this.”
          Jesse considers that for all of a second.  “I appreciate the gesture, man, but….No.  I don’t think so.  We’re not complete without her.”
          “That’s your only option, pal,” he disagrees, slowly pulling the sword out of his flesh.  The wound starts to close up as soon as he pulls it out, and there’s only a little blood on the blade.  Under any other circumstances, that’d be kind of cool.
          “And I told you, no.  You’d miss her if she wasn’t there.”  His friend almost, almost sounds normal, and reasonable.
          “Not gonna happen.”  He rests the blade against his shoulder one-handed, ignoring the fact that it’s a giant sword and he shouldn’t be able to do that.
          “Don’t worry, I’ll share.  But I have to break her in first.  Trust me, she won’t want to be a virgin for eternity, and she’ll appreciate it after—”  Jesse blinks, confused more than anything.  He doesn’t have the chance to do any more than that as his head starts to slide off his body and then he bursts into dust.
          The bloodlust is suddenly gone.  He’s staring in shock, mouth and eyes wide open, and over his newly cracking skin, he can feel wet tracks.  That’s his best friend—that was his best friend, not two seconds—yeah, okay, now he wasn’t exactly human, but apparently Xander isn’t either.
          And then he thinks about Willow, experiencing the same pain and betrayal and helplessness and fear, and feels his stomach heave.  It was more like…putting down a rabid dog than anything.
          “Jesse, are you there…?” Why, how—it’s a good thing he acted when he did, she doesn’t deserve to see him like this, or hear him, hear his threats…
          The startled, horrified gasp from Willow is all it takes to remind him oh yeah, I’m a monster too, now.
          He wraps his wings around himself and launches himself out the window, given that the breaking of the glass barely registers.  He has to leave before he loses his humanity like Jesse and tries to do something unforgivable to Willow, too.