Chapter 1: Dream Of Your Destiny
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here. BtVS, Supernatural, and Heroes all belong to people not named me. Just gonna borrow them for a little.
Authors Notes: My second story. Wanted to try something a little different. Anyone reading my other story 'With These Eyes' do not worry. I am still working on that as well. Lately, I've had alot of time on my hands, so it won't be a problem to work on both. I'm just glad I can do something. Also, the dates are changed a bit. Bump Buffy up a few years, this fic takes place a few months after Chosen, but the other shows I'm crossing over with are in the present.
He was dreaming. At least, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. Looking up at the sky scrapers, he shouts out his victory.
But now, the dream is changing. He’s standing on the edge of a building, preparing to take his first step forward to what he believes is a greater calling. Closing his eyes, he jumps, and thinks that this might have been a mistake. But, as he falls towards the ground, a man is there, grabbing him. As they try to hold on to each other in mid-air, he loses his grip.
For a second, he can feel it. Weightless. Just as soon as the feeling comes, it goes, and he continues his descent towards the ground. Blackness.
Changing scene’s again, this time he’s in a shop. A clock shop, and a man is standing close by. As the man talks, no words can be heard. All of a sudden, the man does something remarkable. Holding out his hand towards a coffee mug resting on a table, the mug starts to move. He can feel it. Somehow, he knows. Something is wrong with this guy. Something he knows how to fix.
The man continues talking, and again, no words can be heard. As the man walks around, he see’s himself grab a paperweight off of a desk, and to his horror, watches as he smashes the object on the back of the man’s skull. As the skull is broken open, he get’s more insight. Yes, this man was definitely…broken. No worries, he knows how to fix it.
“AHHHHH” screamed Xander, as he woke with a cold sweat. ‘That’s the third time this week. God knows how many in the last few months.’
The nightmares. It starts out well enough. Just a dream, as he’s someone else, doing something amazing. Something…unnatural. Sometimes it’s flying. Sometimes he’s walking through walls, and once, he was sure he was teleporting. They all felt real, as if he were actually doing these things himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind though, he knows. Knows them for what they are. Dreams, and nothing more.
Then, they turn into nightmares. Painting a horrible picture of something…catastrophic. Or looking at a mirror that’s not quite reflecting, but instead, acting on it’s own accord, wanting to do something…wrong. The worst one’s are when he’s killing. Those haven’t been as often as some of the others, but it’s been getting worse.
The part that scares him though? That terrifies him? He likes it. And with each killing, he feels more powerful. He feels consumed by the need for more. He feels….complete. But as the rush fades, he feels the urge come over again. He need’s another, and then another, and he wonder’s if there will ever be an end to it.
He’s not so sure he wants it to end.
They started around six months ago. At first, it was slow. A dream about doing something he hadn’t thought possible. Then, as time went on, and the weeks rolled by, they started coming more often. Now, he expected at least three or four a week.
They used to be dreams. Now, he only see’s them as nightmares….he can only hope they are just nightmares.
After awhile, he was starting to question them. Was he going crazy, or were these nightmares real. Was he somehow murdering people, unaware of he was doing?
‘No, that doesn’t explain my other dreams. I have to do something about this. I can’t take this for much longer.’
Going to the bathroom, he turned on the sink, and splashed cold water on his face, wincing when some gets into his empty eye socket. After he was sure he wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon, he went to the bedroom to find out what time it was. ‘6 a.m. Might as well get ready for the day.’
Thinking back on when the dreams started, it was around the time he lost his eye. After he had been called the “One Who Sees” by the crazy priest Caleb. So much had happened in those months that he really hadn’t given it much thought.
When all was said and done in Sunnydale, he believed…no, they all believed, that they had changed the world. In one sense, they were right. Every potential Slayer was called. Numbering in the hundreds, possibly thousands, they had set off from the ruins of Sunnydale with the intention to find these girls and train them, or at least letting them know why they were now suddenly different from everyone they knew.
But for Xander, things had mostly stayed the same. Sure, he was traveling now, something he had never really done. Sure, he was helping his friends rebuild the Council, with them in charge this time. And he had even gotten use to the loss of his eye.
But, he still woke up in the morning. The sun still rose and set. He was still helping in the fight against darkness. In that regard, things were the exact same. The world at large had no clue of what went bump in the night. He was still surround by females who outclassed him in power, though the numbers were increasing monthly.
He still missed Anya…but now, there wasn’t another chance with her.
Jumping out of the shower, he did his usual morning routine. Shaved, cleaned his eye socket. Go to the bedroom to pick out his clothes. Afterwards, he would go out for breakfast. Alone.
Not that he didn’t talk or hang with everyone still. He just felt that he needed to save time for himself each day. Where he could think over everything that had happened to them all, without interference. A place where his opinions would not be clouded by some one else’s. Maybe a little selfish. He didn’t really care.
As he made his way to a local diner, he gave thought to where they were. Ohio. Cleveland to be precise. With the old Council money they had been able to dig up, they purchased a three story house. Xander would rather call it a mansion. With enough space and rooms to house everyone comfortably, and still have enough left over for any new Slayers that decided to stay. He forgot to mention…also a Hellmouth.
One of those things that stayed the same.
Taking a seat and ordering his usual breakfast, eggs, bacon, and toast, he thought of his friends.
Buffy was Head Slayer, who oversaw the training of the new ones and was pretty much the go to gal when any issue or policy of the new Council was questioned. Not that she was solely making the decisions herself. Giles, as Head Watcher, and really the only Watcher, had handled the legal side of things, and was the one who wrote up the new rules. Buffy just lent her opinion. Considering her previous achievements, her opinions held a lot of weight.
Buffy had also gotten over Spike’s death. Though she was Head Slayer, she could often be found taking vacations around the world with Dawn. Apparently, it was something she always wanted to do. So, if she wasn’t at home base, she was off jet-setting in some country partying it up. Last Xander heard, she had found a temporary boyfriend over in Rome. Some wise-guy who named himself the Immortal.
He wasn’t too surprised.
Willow was doing well for herself. She helped Giles with the technical side of things. Getting a computer system set up, and transferring all the books they still possessed onto a database she had created. Xander had to admit, researching was much easier for everyone these days. Go out, encounter a demon you know nothing about? Hit the computer and type in a description of what you saw, and voila. Here’s your usual suspects.
She was also the main one responsible for digging up the old Council accounts. So far, she had been fairly successful. For the time being, money was not an issue to supply their…organization. Xander was happy that she had become less and less dependent on magic this past year. Her training with Giles over a year ago in England told her to respect the power she wielded. After she performed the spell to activate every potential in the world, he had been afraid she would slip back into the addiction.
He was, thankfully, wrong. Instead, she helped train any new magic-users they came across in having a balanced growth. She herself, while she still performed a spell or two that were necessary every once in awhile, had instead turned back to her skills in technology.
‘Skills’ Xander thought ‘that would get her somewhere in life.’ While he was sure they were both stuck in this life for good, that didn’t mean it was set in stone.
Willow and Kennedy, though they broke up a little after Sunnydale, still remained friends. On nights they were free, which was rare, they would go out to a bar or club and hit on the female population of Cleveland.
Which is also why he had talked to Dawn about pursuing a College education. She wanted to become a Watcher. He may not have agreed, but he could understand where she was coming from. Dawn had also been in this life far too long to simply walk away. But, he told her that she might not always feel that way. He told her to pursue a degree in something that was practical, but also something she could enjoy.
“Have a backup plan” is what he said. Hopefully, she listened. She still needed the option of having a normal life.
Faith and Robin were around, but Xander wasn’t sure if they were dating or not. At times, they seemed to be more friends than anything else. Robin was training under Giles to be a Watcher, and Xander thought it was a brilliant idea. Robin was smart, resourceful, and knew how to deal with young children.
He wondered when he started thinking of them as young children.
He and Robin got along well. At times, he, Robin, and Giles would sit in Giles office, stealing a drink or two while they talked about how they were the only males around, and how they were also the weakest ones in the house. It was hard not to feel weak when a fifteen year old could bench press you….while sitting in your car.
Faith, as second oldest Slayer, served as the one to take over for Buffy when ever she was on a vacation of hers. While she didn’t hold the title of “Head Slayer”, she was probably recognized as it. She was there first off. And she knew the names of every one of the younger Slayers. She took her time to talk to them, and had helped them when it felt like they would snap. With so much power, it was easy not to use it for your advantage. She knew about that better than anyone else.
Faith was another person he had bonded with over the last few months. He had no hard feelings about their past, and when she had apologized, he simply laughed it off. When she questioned what he found so funny about her saying sorry, his response was simple.
“Faith, half of the people I know have tried to kill me at one point or another.”
Afterwards, they had gone out for a few drinks, shooting the shit with each other. It was nice for both of them to have their moments of normality.
But sitting in the diner, and thinking about his dreams, he wondered how much normality he would be able to hold onto. They were getting worse. He wouldn’t be able to ignore them much longer before something gave. Either he would snap, or he would be lost to his dreams, not able to escape as they got more and more violent, until soon, there would be nothing amazing about them at all.
Everyone has a destiny. Sometimes, destinies were intertwined. If asked who his destiny was intertwined with, his answer would be easy. The Scoobies.
He would be partially right. Yes, they were apart of his destiny, as he was apart of their’s. But there was a more precise answer….
“Don’t be a little bitch Sammy”
Dean, the older of the two, was driving the Chevy Impala along the highway. They were in Cleveland, Ohio. Looking for a place to eat, Dean listened as his younger brother continued talking about how they would find a way to get him out of Dean’s deal with a demon.
“I’m not being a…little bitch. Dean, listen to me. We have to deal with this sooner or later. Ever since you were told you have one year to live, you’ve gained a death wish. This demon said there was a way. We have to consider all the possibilities.”
Sam, the younger of the two, and more sensible one, was trying to reason with his brother. He had been killed. Killed by a soldier of the Yellow-Eyed-Demon. A soldier he could have been, if he gave in to his darker impulses. But his brother had brought him back, making a deal with a Crossroads Demon. In return, Dean had only one year left to live.
“And you trust her. Listen Sammy, you know what the deal is. I try and find a way out, you drop dead. I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna let that happen.”
“You’re just being selfish.”
“Like I told you, I know. Deal with it.”
And that was the end of the conversation….for now.
A lot had happened in the last months. With Sammy’s death, and revival, they had been there just in time to close the Gates of Hell, with help from Bobby and Ellen. Unfortunately, by the time they got it closed, more demons had gotten out then they ever had to deal with before. That was why they were currently in Cleveland, following up on a lead they had read about in the newspaper.
There was some good in all that though. They had finally got the Yellow-Eyed-Demon. The death of their mother, and Sam’s girlfriend, had finally been avenged. The death of their father had finally been avenged.
That night, when all hell literally broke loose, they both saw him Their father had made a deal over a year ago to save Dean’s life. In return, he had to give his soul to the Yellow-Eyed-Demon. A soul that was bound to Hell when his death came, which was shortly after Dean had woken up from his coma. Somehow, their father had crawled out of Hell when the Gates were opened, and had helped them kill the demon.
In their line of work, closure was hard to come by on anything. Somebody had been looking out for them. Their father had been looking out for them.
Seeing a diner close by, Dean pulled the Impala into a vacant parking spot.
“This place look good to you?”
“I don’t know about good, but I’m too hungry to care” answered Sam, not having ate since yesterday.
“Yea. We’ve been in this baby for a long time. My ass fell asleep back in Indiana. Come on, let’s see what we can get. I’m in the mood for some bacon.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam followed his brother into the diner. “You always feel like bacon.”
“What can I say, I like me some pork.”
As they walked in, they scanned the place, a habit they picked up training all those years with their father. Looking for exits, remembering the faces in the room, and checking to see if anyone looked suspicious.
When the Gate had opened, hundreds of demons made their way out of Hell. In these times, it paid to be as cautious as possible.
Seeing everything was alright, they walked into a booth close by, and looked at the menu.
“Same like every other diner we’ve been in” said Dean, as he looked at the breakfast section.
“No surprise there.”
“Hey, Sammy, check it out. Cyclops at six o’clock.”
Looking behind him, Sam saw the guy Dean was referring to. A man maybe a year or two older than himself, with an eye-patch over left eye.
“I wonder how he lost it.”
“Either that, or someone forgot to tell him Halloween was over. Man, chicks don’t dig the pirate look anyways.”
“Yea, sure Dean, they dig Batman a lot more right?”
“What, are you crazy? Chicks love Batman.”
They were talking about a Halloween when they were younger, one of the few Halloween’s their father had let them just be children for one day. Dean had dressed up as Batman, stating it was the equivalent as going as a ninja, detective, and super-hero in one costume.
“Hey, check it out. He’s looking this way. Hey Sammy, I think he’s checking you out. Why don’t you get his number?”
As Dean laughed at his own joke, Sam rolled his eyes, wondering how he could possibly be the older brother. As Sam snuck a glance at the man though, he could see he was checking them out for other reasons.
‘The same way we look at somebody. Checking for a possible threat. This guy is giving me a bad feeling.’
Xander, as he continued eating his breakfast and was lost in his thoughts, noticed to the men that had come in. He noticed how they looked around the room, and made note of the people inside, and the exits. ‘Almost like they were trained.’
As the two took a seat at a table a little bit in front of them, he went back to his food. It was then that his head started to hurt. Or more specifically, his eye socket. This was a pretty normal occurrence. The doctors had called it phantom pains. Reaching up to rub around the eye-patch, he happened to glance at the two men who had came in.
And saw that they were looking at him. Averting his eye, he looked away, pretending that he had just casually looked for someone he knew. He didn’t know what the deal was, but he was getting some weird vibes off the two.
His pain subsiding for a moment, he took the chance to check them out again, hoping that he would see his instincts were off. After living on the Hellmouth for so long, then moving to another one, he was beginning to think he was just paranoid.
The dreams he’s been having as of late didn’t help matters.
Observing the two men, he noticed that the way they held themselves. Upright…no…alert. That’s what it was. As if they would be ready at a moments notice to either fight, or flee. If his feelings were correct, they would fight before fleeing.
Seeing one of them look his way again, he paid it no mind. The pain in his socket had come back. This time, stronger than before. Having to close his eye to try and concentrate on making the pain go away, a bolt of….something, went through his pain.
He hadn’t been aware of the scream that came out his mouth. He was lost in a set of visions that he only had when asleep. Visions wasn’t how he described them though.
He had called them dreams.
Now, in the moment, he knew what they were. The visions in question right now dealt with the younger man across from him. He saw flashes of his life. Some flashes he knew the man couldn’t remember himself.
He’s in a crib, and his body feels small. A pretty lady is standing over him, singing a song is can barely make out. All of a sudden, there is another man in the room. Her boyfriend maybe? Her husband? Could it be her brother?
In the next few seconds it’s clear. It’s her killer?
As she’s thrown against the ceiling with a force he can’t see, the man is gone, and in it’s place, is another. One who looks rough, yet kind. He looks at the ceiling, and screams something out. It’s too late though. The pretty lady is now in flames, and he can hear himself crying.
The flashes come and go quicker at this point. He feel’s slightly bigger than before, and there is another older kid with them. The second man who came in his room before is there, and he holds up a shotgun, showing the two boys.
The next one, he’s fighting with the older boy, going back and forth through moves he knows were practiced hours on end.
He’s older now, and he’s with a gorgeous blond. She kisses him on the mouth, and he takes a minute to savor the feeling. He lays down because he feels tired. Waking up due to something falling on his face, he looks up, and see’s the blond on the ceiling. Xander knows what going to happen next. A few seconds later, she’s up in flames, screaming out a name on her dying breath.
He’s with the other boy again, who’s older as well. In his twenties. They are in a car driving along. They are having a conversation, but he can only make out a few words. Suddenly, he’s talking, but all he hears is the other man’s name.
The visions continue. Sometimes, they're fighting a demon, at others, they are driving in a car. The last visions he has are more clear.
He’s on a farm…possibly. He’s not sure. At the moment, all he feels is a cold blade as it slices into his back. After that, there’s only darkness.
But somehow, he’s alive, as the next scene there in some sort of graveyard. He’s hurt, and shapes of black look like flowing ink are flying all around him. The man, Dean, is on the floor with a gun in his hand. It’s pointed at another figure standing in front of them. He can’t move though to get a better look. He’s stuck by some invisible force to a tree.
Then the man looks at him. Yellow Eyes. He says something that can’t be heard. As he looks back at Dean, there’s the man from the first vision, holding onto him. Dean aims his gun and fires.
Snapping back into focus, Xander realizes everyone is staring at him. He’s back…in the real world. Beside him are the two men that came in earlier, telling everyone that everything is alright.
As Xander looked at them, he stared at the younger one, who was now looking back at him. Right then, the information came to his mind.
‘Sam Winchester. Age 24. Abilities: Pre-cognition. Telekinesis under extreme stress.’
“Sam Winchester by any chance” asked Xander, wanting to confirm what just happened.
Wanting to confirm he wasn’t crazy.
As the two men, who got everyone settled down, looked at him, they turned to each other, matching puzzling expressions on their faces.
“Yea, I’m Sam. Mind telling me who the hell you are?”