Not so much the end...but the beginning.
Failed Reflections Chapter 2
Rating: PG 13
Word Ct: 900+
Author Notes/Summary: The shows and characters are not mine. And as not so happy, this small fic is it was going to be worse. But damn it my muse didn’t want to work with me. I’ve been trying to do a vignette style fic but no no no no this is what came about. Grrr. More than likely this will be a multi xover fic but we’ll worry about that when we get there.
Sitting in the airplane Xander couldn’t help but be sad. It been only a day ago that he had been drinking his sorrows away and now here he was on this flying deathtrap. God he hated all this, he blamed Willow a lot but blamed himself even more. Of course, the music on his Ipod wasn’t helping much. It had always been country music that soothed his soul in Sunnydale. But after spending all that time in Africa, he had begun to appreciate Rap and Hip-hop a whole lot more. Keeping the beat with his foot on the floor, he didn’t stop the song from repeating once more. He’d downloaded some of the newest songs out now and he really felt this one, especially the opening line “So I’m grinding w/ my eyes wide/ Dear lord you’ve taken so many of my people/ I’m just wondering why you haven’t taken my life…” Things couldn’t be much clearer than that. He loved the whole song; it helped him to realize life could be worse, but in reality not by much.
Embittered, over stressed, guilt stricken, a victim of PTSD, etc etc…those words kept occupying the small space in Xander’s head that wasn’t angry or grieving. That was “his” diagnosis, Giles and the others felt it was past time he had time off. A vacation, yea-right Xander laughs at that one. He couldn’t see anything wrong with him except he’d killed another friend. To be fair he had killed his best friend in defense of the world, but it had been the final straw in some ways. He’d broken down, lost himself in grief for a few days and when he had woke his new life sentence had been handed down.
Now not only was he immortal but he’d been sent away to the only people that could help him. Help him with what he didn’t know, but supposedly he’d learn some life skills while in the company of the world’s worst undead. He’d be forced to relive the glory days with Bat face and his bitchy childe. At least he’d fit in with all the guilty brooding he was sure they lived for. To be fair, they’d died for the cause and earned some redemption points in his eyes. But that didn’t stop his throat from gagging on the bile coming up when he thought of the next few months. He was in a sympathetic exile; it was all in order to better understand his new world.
Damn Willow anyway. With a snort at that thought, Xander downs the expensive shot he’d ordered hours ago. Another reason to hate this situation, flying and grief did not make for him to be a happy boy. No he was a man damn it and it pissed him off that he let the others control him like this. He didn’t see a way out, unless he ran away but he’d be damned if he did that now. It was too late in the game to run or maybe it was just a case of chronic stupidity he was suffering from.
He hadn’t decided which would be worse, leaving or staying but really, it depended on the vampires and their team. The Fang Gang had been through their own apocalypse a month or two ago and the remaining scoobies had quilted him into going to at least help. It was supposed to help him deal with his grief. He’d go and rebuild a city, help do research things, but more than that, he was to help the other humans through their situations as well. Being “the one who sees” or “the heart” really sucked some days. He was a low-level empath and a burgeoning healer. Not through magic or anything really, really he couldn’t blame Willow for any of this…Not. It was the magical influx that he took within himself not once but twice that unleashed all the hidden magicks in his body. So he was now an immortal healer who was now a champion for the powers in his own respect. The coven had done a reading and some spells on him. Within hours, they had figured it out. He was to be the immortal heart for all eternity. Now his training and his job was to start in another day. He was meant to heal and balance the central champions, he could now be called from anywhere in the world via the powers and all he needed to guide him was the vampires and their oracles he’d claimed to have hated since he was a teen.
He guessed that if anything the powers had granted his life long request. He had always wanted powers and to be important and now he was. Not that he wanted or needed it now, but the powers were just like some demented genies giving and taking with ease. And manipulating everyone on the game board of life. While mortals only served for the time in which they lived immortals were leashed to the fight til the earth ended or until granted death. He had a hope of death centuries from now; the coven had told him that his reading showed him voluntarily dying. But it would only be when his heart and soul were too weary to go on that he’d die and be reborn. At this point, he was weary but knew that there was more out there for him to do. He’d heal the LA gang and then move to his next calling; he’d be the new and improved vagabond for the new world.