The Book of Averted Prophecy: Chapter III

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry
Chapter Summary: Xander runs into a few others from his former life...
Word Count: 2040
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Spike/Xander, Willow/Tara

        Xander finally is able to walk around, if a bit wobbly on his legs, and Spike rushes around, muttering about this and that and "do you remember Red?", filling him in on quite a lot that he happens to already know.  Surprisingly.  Aside from the lack of Buffy, Slayers, or obvious demonic-slash-supernatural-slash-weird signs, this world is remarkably like his own.
        "Spike, I remember you.  And I remember Willow.  I said so earlier."  He hides the smirk, knowing that Spike's not meaning to be so ironic intentionally.
        "Sorry, sweet'eart."  The grin is softer than most Xander can remember, and sheepish.  He's been seeing a lot of that, and while it's still attractive, he's beginning to miss the biting wit (pun fully intended).  It's practically a whirlwind, an overly helpful William shepherding him around like a lost little sheepling, but he finally finds himself standing outside the Bronze, and something slots into place that he's missed ever since the insanity started (ironic, from a point of view, but he'll ignore that bit).
        “Xander!  You’re back!”  Willow practically throws himself into his arms, and he grins to himself thinking that no matter the universe he’s in, his Wills never changes.  Even as he almost falls over due to the enthusiasm.
        Well, apart from the black eye vengeance trying to destroy the world thing.  She’s a lot…happier.
        And as she twirls around, he catches glimpse of the reason why.  He waves behind Willow’s back.  Tara looks nervous and doesn’t wave, though she manages a smile.  Have they not met yet?  It’s weird saying this, but then it’s not the only strange thing going on lately.  The whole ‘I was just crazy this whole time’ for one thing gets whole bunches of wiggins free with the deal.
        “Oh, yeah.  You haven’t met-”
        “—Tara,” he finishes, smiling at her.  “I guess not.  I approve, though.”
        Willow looks confused.  Tara knows, but she looks unsure as to how he knew.
        “I wish you both a happy ever after.  Just…” Oh, yeah, he can’t warn Tara to keep Willow away from the magic because it apparently doesn’t exist in this world.  As far as he could tell.  If magic really existed, it was being super sneaky.  He'd say an invisible person, but he'd actually met one and they really weren't all that sneaky.  Tended to be pretty loud, especially when they held grudges and tried to kill people.  “….I know you’ll be good for each other.  Keep her away from windows, though.”  It doesn’t hurt to warn Willow, just in case.  Guns exist in the world and they still kill people just as dead as magic can.  He doesn't even mind the 'you're insane' look because he's kind of getting used to it, and if it stops a bunch of tragedies then it's worth it.
        Somehow, to William, insane translated to invalid.  Of course, he's still a little wobbly, but he can at least stand, even if he can't be on the dance floor like he used to be, back in high school.  He has some fond memories of dancing at the Bronze.  Mostly because, hey, nowhere else to go in a town like this, unless of course you hang out in the graveyards, and usually that ended up in a few more bruises than he was fond of.  Given the relative age of everyone, and a few of the things William—Spike had been telling him, he wasn't anymore.  Figuring out where he fit into everything was the rule of the day.  Anyway, his massively overprotective boyfriend insisted that they sit down, because 'Xand is still tired easily'.  He'd just been playing along, honestly.  Okay, so he was a little tired easily, but his definition of tired meant 'I could probably fight for another ten minutes or so', so that wasn't saying much.  He could tell that Spike needed to fuss, but to be honest he was starting to get a little tired of it—more so than from actually doing things.  But hey, something to celebrate—somewhere along the line, apparently he's learned some patience so that's something.
        He leans forward as Spike headed off to get the drinks.  He'd hesitated, just slightly, but Xander met his eyes with a look of 'if you don't stop treating me like glass I really will shatter, and not in a good way', and at least the ex-vampire was smart enough to actually pay attention to that look.  "So, I've missed a lot.  Spill."
        Willow's eyes lit up and she went into full babble mode.  He'd laughed or occasionally come up with a comment or two in appropriate—or less than appropriate—spots.  While some of the remarks had Willow frowning at him, once she actually hit him in the shoulder and didn't hold back at all.  He rubbed at his arm, complaining good-naturedly about it, but secretly he was pleased.  At least his best friend knew him well enough to know that he'd rather be the demon punching bag (well, no, actually she didn't know that one, but still, the point remained) than be treated like the fragile mortal that all of the Scoobies seemed determined to do.  Tara seemed surprised about how much he talked.  Probably that he'd managed to get in a word edgewise, and didn't just sit there like a lump.  Well, his mouth was stuck on must talk mode, and he'd long ago learned that girls preferred responses to their conversations, no matter how inane.  Of course he was listening.  Most of the time.  Unless his brain decided to go on a tangent, which happened...fairly often if he was honest, but at least he tried.  And he generally tended to know more about his girls' lives than they did about his, so he counted that as a success anyway.
        At some point, they'd been joined by Spike.  Who was still somewhat spookily quiet.  Xander felt a little pinch of guilt somewhere inside.  Either he really had scared Spike out of his unlife—no, life, sorry, getting used to a human-Spike is going to take a little while-or the Spike persona really is that weak, and...okay, yeah, he misses the snark in a sexy British accent.  Is that too much to ask?
        “We’re studying p-p-poetry,” Tara says shyly.  She’s opened up a lot, but he thinks part of that has to do with his easy acceptance.
        “Poetry.  Fluff an’ silliness, ducks.”  Xander shoots Spike a look, then rolls his eyes.  The comment sounded casual enough, but it sounds like Spike still hasn’t completely come to terms with Will, and that’s without the whole ‘soulless undead for a century’ deal.
        Like William (he's decided to generally call him William in his head because this clearly isn't Spike and he's not sure whether or not that'll be problematic later down the line but decides to put off because problems are easier to deal with later down the line unless they're Glory or the First), they're a bit worried about every time his stay in the mental hospital comes up even incidentally, like he's about to go off or break down crying if it's mentioned.  He, on the other hand, is completely relaxed.  There's nothing to do but talk to some of his favorite people.  And if he's sometimes a bit too wise or accidentally says the right thing more times than luck would allow, well.  He's not exactly their Xander.
        That's why he's not too surprised when his boyfriend practically drags Xander into the hall.  He’d seen this coming, though, acting this weird.  “Why’d you look at me like that?”
        He sighs, trying to find the right words to deal with a touchy no-longer vampire.  “Spike.  I-I love all of you.  You don’t have to hide.”
        William looks like he's the one that's about to break down, right there.  "How'd...how did you know?  You never found any of it, and I swear, I didn't mention...and Tara, you never met..."
        Xan shrugs, pulling the blond close so they can generally cuddle.  "I'd try to explain, but I don't think there's a way I can that would make sense to you, so I think it's best I don't answer that question."  He feels kind of like the Doctor, stuck in a different time with people who don't even believe in aliens, trying to explain an interstellar invasion.  How do you explain to someone when the language you're trying to talk to them in doesn't even have words for what you're trying to say?
        They return, William oddly quiet, but he's managed to spoil the mood.  Tara picks it up, giving them both uneasy glances, but he'd kind of expect her to do so.  Tara always was the observant one, even if she didn't usually tell anyone what she noticed.  Willow's blissfully oblivious, but then again, she's too happy to have her best friend back to notice much of anything, not to mention her life sounds like it's going great.  Eventually, the two take off together, mentioning something about class early the next morning, Willow wrangling a promise to call out of him, and Tara smiling and waving shyly.  The silence when they leave is awkward, and by mutual telepathic agreement they both decide that it's probably a good idea to leave, too.  William mentions that he's probably too drunk to drive (which never would have stopped Spike, but Xander takes one look at the expression in those blue eyes and thinks better of mentioning it), and doesn't trust a just-out-of-the-asylum Xander to drive (well, at least some things, such as Spike's protectiveness of his DeSoto, no matter how damaged it actually is, haven't changed).  So it looks like they're walking home.
        Xander reaches out.  By the look he's given, hand-holding wasn't a major part of their relationship.  Too bad, because he's not budging an inch, and after a moment or two, reluctantly, a pale hand threads fingers through his own.  They walk a little way in a silence that is no longer quite so uncomfortable, when Xander sees something, or rather, someone, that makes him tear his hand from William's and go running down the street like a lunatic.
        Again, ironic.
        “Giles!” Xander yells, but the man isn’t stopping.  With that scar and that axe, he’s a lot harder looking than he used to be.  When Xander knew him.  Another life.  Oh, yeah, speaking of other lives… “Ripper!” he calls, imitating the accent.  Giles turns, a furious look on his face that in all honesty should scare him.  He’s spent a lot of time learning how not to be scared of things he should be.  Even when he’s slammed up against the wall.  “Got your attention.”  Of all the times to be playful.  He almost groans.  Knight’s an idiot when he wants to be, and this was no exception.
        “How do you know me?” Giles hisses.
        He’s soon pushed off by a seething bloke with spiked hair.  “Don’t touch the boyfriend!  Nasty old man.”
        "I dunno, I could explain, but you might not believe me.  That's happening a lot recently."  He stops to think.  "I know you like to do research.  Look up 'Knight' in Shaelr."  This, with Ripper, could quite easily get him dead, but he's not as worried about it when there's a hint, just a hint, that he's not the completely barmy one.
        ...Unless Giles is a crazy axe murderer, and that was something Xander could put on his list of Things I Never Thought I'd Say.
        He should head off before an angry Spike vibrates himself to pieces.  Like, literally, he's just sitting there shaking from anger.  At Giles or his boyfriend, Xander's not sure and doesn't particularly want to guess.  “From one warrior to another.”  He finds himself performing a strange salute, like he'd begun doing the one from The Prisoner that Bester referenced in Babylon 5, only gave up halfway and decided to do a military salute instead.  The way the man tenses, eyes shocked, he doesn't figure sticking around to see what the response is would be a good idea.  He grabs William's hand and makes a run for it, breath screaming in his lungs.
        It probably says something that this is the most normal he's felt in a long time.