September 23, 2009
He walked the deserted streets of Sunnydale, his dark trenchcoat stirring slightly in the breeze. The last of the sun’s rays stretched his shadow far in front of him, reminding him of how much daylight he had left. He knew Sunnydale was not a place to walk after dark, especially since the Hellmouth had been opened. But he didn’t care. This was something he needed to do. Alone.
Xander Harris had grown a great deal in the last ten years. He had faced the demons of hell and survived, had battled mortals and immortals alike and prevailed. Those who knew him all those years ago would have laughed hearing this, but looking at him know they would have seen the changes in him. He walked with an evident strength and determination that awed the few who allied with him and drove fear into those who opposed him. His body had grown hard from his battles, and he bore scars as another would wear badges of courage. He was far from the awkward geek he had been years ago.
He entered a cemetery just as the last rays of light dissipated, heralding the return of darkness. He could literally feel the evil that inhabited the town awaken with a deep hunger for his human soul. He knew that he would most likely die here, and he accepted it.
“Duty is heavier than a mountain,” he said softly, remembering a book he had read years ago. Moments later he arrived at the crypt he sought.
Buffy Summers,
Slayer in Life
Vampire in Death
Fear me
“Ah, Buffy,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion, “Always trying...” He couldn’t finish, tears of pain were flowing freely from his face. It was the first time he had cried in nearly five years, when he found out Willow died. The crypt doors opened, and Buffy walked out into the night. She was as he remembered her, all grace and beauty. His heart ached at what had to be done, and with the love he still felt. She saw him immediately, yet didn’t attack. She stood there, sharing in his silence for a moment.
“Long time, Xander,” she said. Her voice pierced his heart and soul, causing him more pain and anguish than any physical injury ever had.
“Hey, Buff-ster,” her replied, his voice tight. He could feel the eyes of vampires and other demons the surrounded him, yet they didn’t make a more towards him. Xander knew they feared Buffy, and that she had claimed his blood for herself.
“Why did you come back?” she asked suddenly. “You know only one of us will survive this night.”
Xander searched for the words he needed. Finally, he spoke. “You know as well as I do why I came.”
Surprise, then amusement light her face. “You still love me?” she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. When he nodded, she laughed shortly. And after that her voice grew soft. “For old time’s sake, we’ll talk. After, we’ll end this.”
Xander nodded and leaned casually against a monument of a fallen angel. “They’re all dead,” he said, looking at his feet for a moment. “Did you know that?”
Buffy, who sat on a stone bench, shook her head. “No I didn’t. How?”
“Giles was the first to die,” he began, his voice steady, “After you’re turning, he was consumed by grief. He hunted Angelus and killed him, but not before he was mortally wounded himself.”
At this Buffy nodded, “I felt my sire pass,” she said. “I was wondering who killed him. I never knew Giles was up to it.”
Xander chuckled softly. “He didn’t do it alone. Willow enchanted the sword he used, and Oz helped him corner Angel. Yet the Watcher was the only one to fight Angelus.”
A slight smile touched Buffy’s face, sending a fresh wave of torment through Xander. How little she has changed, he thought.
Xander continued after a moment of silence for the deceased Watcher. “Cordy was next, killed by a movie producer and warlock. I killed him myself, quite by accident.”
Buffy laughed, “You, killed a warlock? I never knew you had it in you!” Then Buffy looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. “You’ve changed,” she stated softly.
Xander merely nodded before continuing. “By that time the dragon king Bahamut re-awakened in England. Oz and Willow went off to face him. Only Willow returned.”
Buffy looked at the stars for a moment. “I never thought he would go before you, or Willow for that matter.”
Xander smiled sadly. “I never did either. I guess I surprised a lot of people. But I digress,” Buffy looked at him strangely. “Willow died five years ago fighting the Coven of Darkness that banished Angel’s soul and strengthened Angelus. She didn’t finish them off, couldn’t. They were too strong for her, dispite her vast powers.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in his or her own memories of the past and the dead. It was Buffy that finally broke the silence.
“What have you done with yourself?” she asked as she rose.
Xander rose as well and drew a sword from beneath his coat. “I’ve battled the demons of hell and earth, fighting to save humanity. I’ve seen far too many friends die and far too little progress in my war. I stumbled across an ancient text that brought me here.”
“What was it?” she asked, moving slowly away from the stone bench, circling him.
“It was written in an ancient form of Latin. ‘By the Slayer of man shall the Mouth of Hell be silenced. Only then shall the demons fall before man, and only then shall light return to the blighted land.’”
Buffy’s face assumed it’s vampiric features as she began walking with a feline grace. “Impressive, Xander, but you’ve been dreaming again. I’ll never close the Hellmouth! It’s my ticket to power!”
Xander sighed and drew a silver dagger with his left hand. Holding both blades at the ready, he answered the vampire who was once the love of his life. “Not by your will, Buffy. By your death. It is time that I gave your soul rest.”
Buffy and Xander battled for long moments. Her vampiric claws, powered by her inhuman strength, cut deep wounds into his flesh. His blades, blessed and enchanted by the long deceased Willow, inflicted smoking wounds on the vampire’s undead flesh. Finally, with both of them near death, they paused.
“I wish there was another way things could have gone,” Xander said, his voice soft and filled with a long cherished love.
Buffy looked at him for a moment. “So do I,” she said, her face returning to normal for just a moment. When the moment passed and her face resumed it’s demonic features, the two leaped at each other, one with the righteous determination of humanity, the other with the hunger and lust of demonic origin. The final blows were traded, and both fell.
Xander felt his life’s blood pour from his many wounds. He knew, in some unexplainable way, that he had succeeded. Somewhere in his mind came the realization that he wasn't holding the dagger in his hand anymore. Not his dagger. Willow's dagger. He placed his hands on his chest, trying to rest. He didn't notice the bluish glow eminating from his hands. He let himself slip into unconscienceness.
The demon in the body of Buffy snarled in rage. It would not end this way! And then, for the first time in ten years, she felt fear. Her hold on this form was fast fading. She tried to reach Xander’s body, to drain the last of his blood and somehow survive. Her body would not respond. The dagger that was still buried in her chest burned with an unnatural heat, and the demon felt it's hold weakening. It's last thoughts as it was pulled into Xander was that something else now inhabited the body.
Or not so lifeless. Buffy drew in a shuddering breath as her heart began to beat once again..