Torchwood Aftershock: Halloween 20

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Torchwood crossover
Summary: Would you look at that, more stuff from 2012. This one is a follow-up to a Choose Your Own Adventure Halloween adventure I may or may not finish eventually where Xander ends up with Captain Xan in his head. This isn't really specifically an episode-tag but more an arc-tag-the label Initiative should give away what this one's about.  It's really quick and there's not much to it, but Xander does die again in this part.  Mostly this is a Riley POV thing going "what is happening?" 
Word Count: 1360
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Spike/Xander

 

Initiative
         As they’re running out, Xander is shot in the head by a soldier.
         “Xander!” Riley screams.  Okay, he wasn’t really fond of the guy, but he’d grown on him a little.  The whole Hostile 17 situation was...really awkward, but still.  The guy was ordinary, kind, and in love.  Just the sort of guy they were supposed to protect.
         “It’s okay,” Will manages, breathing hard.  He can tell it’s Will, now, though it took him a while.  Will is quieter spoken and has a more upper class British accent.  He’s also far more likely to forget the fact that he doesn’t need to actually breathe, being a vampire and all.  Except sometimes when he’s not, which is still one of the strangest things ever.  “I’ve got him.”
         He barely had to pause to pick up the body, and is probably drawing on the vampire strength he dislikes to make it, because otherwise a grown man carrying another grown man probably wouldn’t be able to keep up.
         “I don’t think that’s-” Riley starts, but Buffy shakes her head at him.  
         “Fight our way out now, talk later!” she yells.  She’s in full Slayer mode, and she’s beautiful, like a violent dance.  His heart aches to watch, partially because it’s pure beauty of a primeval sort, partly because it makes her untouchable.

         He doesn’t recognize the place they enter this time.  It’s like a warehouse, or a storage area, only steel and furnished.  “Why didn’t we stay here?” he asks after a minute.  He knows the question is unwanted, but by this point he’s tired and not worrying about the way people feel.
         Will glances over his shoulder.  “I didn’t know about this place before.  I figured it was a better idea to stay in a Torchwood safehouse after blowing up a governmental installation, so I looked it up. Technically that places us under Torchwood protection-outside the government, beyond the United Nations.”  A shrug.  “Not exactly the sort of people even America would like to bother.”
         Wow.  No wonder ‘Captain Xan’ just strode in and had the run of the place.  Which brought Riley back to the downside.  “I’m sorry.”  Two of the most inadequate words in the universe.
         “He’s not going to be happy.”  Will looked lost in thought.  At least he didn’t think vampires could die from shock, seeing as their hearts didn’t beat.  Because, seriously, the man-vampire-thing was in denial.

         There was a TV, computer access, the basics.  Even different rooms furnished differently, separated by tall screens-some metal, some wood, a few even decorated.  One of them looked like it had been made for the Captain, with posters on all the walls and an Indiana Jones bedspread.  After a while on the couch, Will picked up his Captain, murmuring to him.  “That’s right, up you get.”  A sudden thought pierced Riley’s brain, and he felt a little sick.  Vampires.  Necrophilia.  Ugh.
         He still hadn’t come up with a way to expunge thoughts about Xan and Spike from his brain.  He was half sure they did things like this on purpose just to rile him up.
         They had done.  Sure, he’d been annoyed by the guy, but he was cool sometimes, and it didn’t mean he wanted him dead.
         He began carrying the man in the direction of the bedroom, when the dead man started screaming and flailing.
         ...Surely Spike hadn’t turned him into a vampire too?  He’d said that one thing he’d never want is for a demon to take up residence in his beloved’s body.  Had he been lying?
         Will almost dropped him and ended up dropping to his knees, supporting the flailing body against the wall.  “Xan, it’s okay.  It’s okay; you’re safe; I’ve got you,” he murmured.
         After a minute, Xander calmed down, breathing deeply, closing his eyes.  “I’ve got a migraine,” he managed, voice sounding raw.
         Riley stood staring, jaw open.  Willow giggled a little nervously from Tara’s lap.  “We...forgot to tell you he doesn’t stay dead, didn’t we?”  That didn’t sound like something you forgot to tell someone, but then, he should probably stop being surprised with this group.
         Will managed a smile, turning around to look at him.  “I’ll take care of him.”  That didn’t sound like an offer; more of an order.

         Surprisingly enough, it was Spike that was more worried.  He kept mentally pacing and offering to go do things-anything-for his beloved Xan.  Honestly, he was acting as if the man was dying.  Again.
         Will was the sensible one, grabbing more blankets, holding Xan’s hand, getting glasses of water, holding the man and keeping him calm as he emptied his stomach, stroking his hair as one would do to calm a cat and keep it asleep.  So far, Xander had slept.  A lot.  In fact, he couldn’t remember a time the man had taken a resurrection worse.  Which had Spike worrying all over again, but luckily the list of chores taking care of his Captain kept him busy enough that he didn’t have to worry about it too much.
         Every now and then people wandered in to sit by the bedside.  Willow looked gravest, but she smiled brightly as if nothing was wrong and thanked him on the way out.  Well, they were best friends after all.  When Xander was sleeping well enough he felt he could leave the man’s side, he went and made tea for everyone in thanks.  (Oddly enough, he found dried ingredients that smelled and tasted remarkably like his own home-grown varieties in the cabinets in the kitchen, yet there had been no sign of a William Pratt working for Torchwood in the few records he’d found so far.  Nor any personnel under other names even vaguely resembling him.  How very strange.)
         “I’m glad you’re not dead,” Riley stated after three minutes of just sitting there saying nothing.  That, at least, was true.
         A tired smile met him.  “Likewise.  You’re not a bad guy.”  Then the eyes closed again, and Will was in the room shooing him off so that his beloved Captain could get more sleep.  These people were nuts, but then, they were a kinda cool family, too.

         There was one plus side about all this.  Xan wasn’t really in the mood, anymore, for anything other than snuggling, but he was very much in the mood for snuggling.  Half asleep, he’d muttered into Will’s neck, “Thank you.  I’m sorry I’m so much work.”
         “You’re worth it, Xan,” he’d replied, which had earned him a sleepy, flattered laugh and a further nuzzle into his neck.

         He’d actually eaten something today, half assisted by Will, and was well enough to make a joke about how being fed by a cute guy while he lazed around and did nothing was his idea of paradise.  That had earned a slap, but the young(ish) butler was secretly rather pleased.
         There was an odd thing, though, in the fact that Xander had dreamed.  He almost never dreamed if he was forced to take a couple days rest after dying.  The dreams were also oddly enough about most of them, and there was a man with cheese.  But he only half remembered them, even though he thought they were important.  Will had to distract him with a sweet kiss to stop himself from stressing over not knowing their meaning.
         He’d eventually gotten Xander to admit that pretty much everyone in the future had low level psychics, at least empathy (which was Xander with rare occasions of telepathy), and with so much travel in the timestream he might be able to tune into the Vortex while unconscious.  The explanation involved quite a bit of technobabble, but Will got the gist of it and assured his sweetheart that they’d managed fine without visions before.  They were ready for the future.
         That got Xan to stop, laugh at how he’d always managed to give himself problems, and relax enough to watch a little Babylon 5 (well, Will was watching, following the stories told with excited curiosity, getting half ideas for poetry, and marvelling at the special effects; Xan was listening, occasionally half-heartedly commenting on this or that, and laying with his head on Will’s stomach).