( [enjoy] )
( [Mission 1 Start] )
“I’m sorry,” the girl whispers into the warm summer night, and Alex turns to look at her quizzically.
“I’m sorry, what?” he asks politely, purposefully speaking more like Xander would.
“No, that’s my line,” she responds with half a smile. “I just…I’m sorry. Last time I freaked you out by telling you I knew you, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Schizophrenic, right?” he asks suddenly, and watches her jump a little at the accent. “Difficulties telling the difference between real life and hallucinations.”
He’s trying to put her at ease, but he’s only managed to make her act like a wary cat. “I—”
“I’m telling you, because I have Multiple Personality. Though these days, they call it Dissociative Identity. At least, that’s what my therapist said. I’m usually co-conscious, meaning we’re both aware of everything that’s happening, but sometimes we just have to handle things on our own. They tried to put me on meds when I was a teen, and it silenced…there was only one of us, for a while, but it made me suicidally depressive, so they took us off it again. And…” he sighs, “…I’ve seen a lot of weird things in my time at the Bureau. You’ve probably just been seeing through the Veil of Consciousness, only you don’t know what you’re seeing so your mind’s trying to interpret it.”
“I’m glad I didn’t manage to drive you off,” she responds desperately, and he grins.
“No, it’s fine. Just remember, it’s not your fault and there’s nothing wrong with you. But it is good to be able to function in society, too.” His eyes crinkle a bit with his smile. “Honestly, without each other there are a lot of cases I wouldn’t have solved. Some I wouldn’t have survived.”
“Wow,” she whispers, and for the first time in a while there’s hope in her eyes.
It’s the coffee that finally breaks through the haze of panic. It’s probably not a good idea, given the whole caffeine thing, but he’ll manage. It takes him about a minute to realize Willow or Star, one of them, turned on the TV and the stereo and the reassuring chatter almost sounds like it should—don’t go there, Stark, that’s not a place you want to be, because we’ve got experience with the whole PTSD thing and if you go there it’s totally breakdown palace.
“Okay, summary time. That whole thing about how Glory’s brain-sucking bad touch didn’t do anything? Yeah, I kinda lied. I had a headache, but I ignored it. Probably should’ve worked on figuring out what was going on with me, but ignoring things wrong with me is pretty much an Olympic sport for me, plus I was worried about Tara. We’ll fix that, I promise. Because we’re very good at fixing things, and, ha, I’m talking in the royal we. Rhodey’d be amused and despairing at the same time. He’s good at that. Don’t know why or how, but I’m kind of alone on this jaunt which hasn’t happened in years and it’s kind of freaking me out more than a little. On the other hand, I won’t be any use that way, and I need to fix this, so I just gotta keep it together to be Mr. Fixit.”
His hands are trembling but he’s—mostly—keeping this together, so it’s—what’s that phrase Xander likes to use—it’s of the good. “I don’t see a reason any of this needs to be a one-way ticket. If there’s anything I’ve learned from all of this, it’s a thing or two about magic. Things are very rarely irreversible when it comes to waving your hands around and casting hocus-pocus. You just need the right spell.”
“You’re right!” Willow cheers, before handing him a donut. That’s another thing that he and Xander have in common. Donuts fix things. Not everything, obviously, but things.
Of course, he probably shouldn’t be indulging her magic addiction, but he’s risked worse for the people he loves, and he couldn’t just tell her no when she’s trying desperately to get back the woman she loves. They’ll just have to deal with the fallout when it comes to it. Because it’ll be his mess to clean up, so he will clean it up, whatever it takes. He’s gotta take life one crisis at a time.
“Well, I do make a habit of it,” he jokes, and sees her become more at ease. Because that’s another thing they have in common. Joking. Particularly when it’s not appropriate. Or maybe it is appropriate, since when morale is low is the perfect time for that.
She hugs him tightly. “You know, much as we like having Xander around, we don’t dislike having you, and I don’t know why now specifically, but I just now am realizing the whole you’re Tony freaking Stark thing and I’m super excited about meeting you even if you’ve been here for years…”
He laughs and hugs her back, and that whole thing about hugging a woman without thinking about what she’d be like in his bed (partly because she seriously is too young for him)…yeah, look at this evidence, Pepper, he’s growing up, finally! Well, it’s a thing that actually exists, and yeah, she’s still his best friend. “You’ve been concentrating on seeing your Xander in all of this, it’s fine. Besides, I don’t blame you for not being able to get your head around the awesomeness that is all of this,” he adds, gesturing at his body, and she definitely giggles at that.
“Well, no matter what, you’re a Scooby. Don’t even worry about that. We’ll get him back, but in the meantime, you’ve got us, okay?” Oddly enough, that’s actually good enough to get him to smile again.
“Same with Tara. It’s a promise.” He reaches out and fist-bumps her before starting to chuckle. “I think we clearly need more caffeine for this, though. For science. And magic.”
“We definitely do,” she agrees enthusiastically.
( that boy's a survivor )
It wasn’t that hard, once he remembered, to realize who Merlin was. Who else dares argue with him, believe in him despite all evidence to the contrary, push him to do better without platitudes, just sincere friendship, growl like an angry mother bear mother and, if necessary, lash out anytime he’s hurt, fix him with blood and sweat and magic and miracles? Of course, Bones tends to blame him, too, whenever he gets hurt, despite whether or not it actually is his fault, but he gets testy at everybody for that sort of thing, and if Jim ever stopped looking out for crew as family, well, he wouldn’t be the same Captain [King] that Merlin or Bones would follow. And maybe it’s messed up, but that kind of ‘the universe isn’t allowed to take you away from me and by the way neither are you, you goddamn idiot’ is actually kind of…touching? Reassuring? It’s true he hasn’t had the most normal of childhood experiences, in either lifetime, and so maybe his vision of love is a little skewed. (Yeah, yeah, maybe if you talk to most people, it’s a lot skewed, but that’s beside the point.)
The point is, Bones is loyal. He works miracles. And it doesn’t matter who you are, what rank or authority or anything else you have; if he thinks you’re wrong he’ll do what he thinks is right and say whatever it is he has to say.
To thrive, to be the good Captain he knows he can be, he needs Merlin at his side.
“I can’t believe you never told us! You’re gonna think we’re self-obsessed…mean people!”
Xander actually laughs. “You were never that bad,” he explains, then makes a face. “Nah, I take that back. We all had our moments, but I’m convinced that’s on account of being teenagers. Hormones make behavior all wonky.” He pauses. “I’m not sure what was Giles’ excuse.”
( not what he expected )
Buffy doesn’t say a word when Xander returns. She just pulls him into a hug. Fortunately, they’d already stress-tested the Paladin armor against a Slayer’s strength, so it didn’t immediately crumple in on him like Andrew crushing a can. Or, you know, equally hopeless as Andrew’s crushes.
Xander’s faceplate is up, and he’s smiling. It’s kind of striking how different a real, open, genuine smile makes him look. She’s been on the receiving end, lately, of the Tony Stark Superstar smiles, the ones he uses when he’s trying to convince the world that he’s invincible and doesn’t have a beating heart. It’s an utterly ridiculous act the more so because it’s convincing. Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t think she’s really seen him smile since…since the thing with the eye.
At the time, she’d been more caught up with her own guilt than his pain. Thinking back, she should have sat there with him in the hospital, maybe smuggled in one of his secret ‘experimental’ video phones and watched a geeky TV show with him.
And then she hits his arm.
“Ow.” He rubs it, pouting at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re fine, you big dummy.” She pauses and lowers her voice because she’s pretty sure he doesn’t want her advertising his issues to what’s left of the Scoobies. “Star told me what happened in Canada.”
He shuts down. It’s not obvious. It looks like nothing’s changed on the outside, but the light’s gone from his eyes. “Oh.”
“You should’ve given yourself time to grieve.” She’s not going to mention Anya’s name but he knows exactly what she’s talking about.
“Buffy, Leading Lady of the Weirdness that is my Life, throwing myself into overwork and making inappropriate quips about the situation is how I deal.” Given her reading on Tony Stark, that’s probably not entirely inaccurate, but…
“Or, as an alternative, you could see if you can even beat me at Mario Kart.” She raises an eyebrow. Just because she messed up didn’t mean she couldn’t fix it now.
He considers it for all of two seconds before the smile, though a little sad, returns to its genuine state. “Or I could do that.” He pauses, then adds, “Though I still say Slayer reflexes are cheating.”
“It’s called using what you got,” she corrects mercilessly, and he winces.
“Ouch!” But he’s the exact opposite of hurting right now, so it’s okay.
“You wanna explain where you were?”
“Moving day.” It sounds offhanded but the touch of strain does not go unheard. “Mind explaining the bad guys parking on the front lawn?” He’s staring at the bodies of a couple demons just strewn about. Secrets aren’t a thing anymore, at the end of the world.
“We had a party without you.”
“See, this is why I should never go anywhere. You always plan your siestas for when I’m gone.”
Buffy raises an eyebrow. “You ever think there’s a connection?” she teases.
“Buffster, light of Sunnydale, you wound me.” He mimes grasping at his heart, which sends her into a fit of giggles.
“Hey there, poopypants,” Willow says without preamble as she drops onto the couch dripping sweat from her training.
Xander mentally goes through a list. True, they haven’t been alone together since this all started, but…
“What did I do?” At the raised eyebrow, he adds, “…lately?”
“The you from my universe stopped being friends with me because he was jealous of Tara,” she explains, and he rolls his eyes.
“The other me is an idiot.”
( sands of time slipping through grasping fingers )
Anya’s apparently jealous of me, which makes me roll my eyes. Like I want to replace her. The only reason she’s not tempted to go back to being a vengeance demon just to deal with me is that I’m in a different city and therefore can’t continue (not that we ever went that far, but I don’t think she understands the concept of a teenage romance) to give him orgasms. Like I would.
She’d probably be angrier if he told her what we talked about, but he doesn’t, and apparently that makes her insecure.
Mostly I’m angry at her because she doesn’t know who she is as a human enough for her to be secure about a relationship, and she wants the American Dream which he’ll never be normal enough to give her, and she loves him more than she realizes but a lot of it at the moment is his money, and maybe it’s a little hypocritical (well, to the woman I used to be, anyway), but the thought of her acting as a misguided gold-digger makes my blood boil. “I just—and I don’t care if you tell anyone I said this because no one would believe it anyway—I think you can do better than someone who only’s interested in you for your money. Or mainly interested in you for your money.”
He sighs into the phone and turns to stare at the traffic. “I’m not—I’m not arguing with you, I just—” He drums his fingers against his chest in a distracted pattern I’ve come to recognize. “I do like her. I do. I’m not sure I love her, but you date to find that out, right? And she needs me. Maybe we’re not perfect for each other, but if you’ve seen the way everyone else treats her…”
I can imagine, unfortunately. Not that any of them do it intentionally, but it happens. It’s easy to be distracted when you’re fighting for your life so much.
“You could be just friends. It’s helped me enough,” I point out, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t think she’d accept or recognize it, unfortunately,” he responds. “And the sex life is pretty good.”
I smile despite myself and shake my head. “While I’m the last one to say that’s not a decent enough excuse, I think she’s confused about her feelings, and feelings in a relationship like that only lead places of the bad.”
He nods with another wry expression. “I have a feeling it’ll lead to horrible places, but I’m not sure how to fix it, because I’m pretty sure breaking up with her won’t lead to any better places.” He glances up again and pushes his shades back up again. “Well, I got class in twenty minutes, so I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“You better,” I respond with what I hope is an intimidating frown, and continue frowning after he gets off. I hope he’s not having one of his Spider Sense moments.
( That's actually a larger list than he thinks. )
