(BtVS/Push) Watching and Seeing
Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing.
Notes: Just a little idea I've had bouncing around in my head since I saw the
Watching and Seeing
Xander Harris had a secret; something he’d kept from everyone for years.
It’s rare that he didn’t have at least a pen and paper in easy reach. There was always a nice set of pencils and a sketchpad hidden away somewhere in his home and car. Usually he had a little pocket notebook on him too, just in case. None of these lasted long.
Xander drew a lot.
He also sucked at it. His drawings tended to be an ugly, god-awful mess that even he has trouble deciphering when he was done. That didn’t matter though. The important thing was getting the image out of his head before the migraine kicked in.
See, the scenes that Xander sketched had a tendency to actually happen.
He wasn’t sure when he made the connection, but he was young. He’d been awed and so excited and he wanted to tell anyone who would listen. Then he drew his father’s reaction and decided telling people was a bad idea.
It was in those first years that he came to an important realization: the future was not set in stone. The simple act of knowing the future could change fate. Not always, but sometimes.
Back then he didn’t really see anything too important. Enough to keep Jesse and him away from the worst of the trouble. Once he saw his grade on a test, along with the teacher’s red-penned corrections. He was accused of cheating when he aced it, although nobody could prove anything. Still, everything he foresaw in those days was fairly trivial.
It wasn’t until he met Buffy Summers and learnt of the supernatural that his visions became nightmares. Death and chaos became the order of the day.
Ever since then he did his best to use his sight to help; a suggestion here, a nudge there, to try and put things on a better path than perhaps they had been on before. It didn’t always work and he certainly did not see everything, but he did his best.
When they had first learnt of the Codex, a book of prophecy that supposedly had never been wrong, Xander was fascinated. Had it been written by someone like him? Was something like this going to be his legacy to the world?
Then he found out it predicted Buffy’s death and firmly rejected the notion and went with what he knew. If you want it bad enough you can change any fate. Xander made it his mission in life to fight fate and forge his own path, for his friends as much as him.
He had considered telling the others many times over the years. Something always stopped him. Sometimes he would see the ripple effect of change, or at least the results as someone he cared about disappeared like a person being taken out of a photograph. Most of the time it was him.
In some futures he saw them reject him, usually when his secret just compounded on other things gong on at the moment. Other times he saw himself captured and tortured, because no matter what the intention was the more people who knew a secret the harder it was to keep. One of the reasons he hated Angelus so much was that he saw what the monster would put him through if it knew of his gift. Then there were the futures where he was just outright killed to take a powerful player out of the game.
So he kept silent, as much for himself as the others. Call him selfish but he enjoyed living. It was a little thing he had.
Over the years he had his ups and downs, but that was life whether you occasionally see the future or not. He helped out and played a role in saving the world on a regularly basis; usually in a round about way but it still counted.
There were still the bad moments though.
That thing with the false vision on his wedding day for example. Given that he had actually had real visions before he should really have seen it for what it was. And he did, eventually. Unfortunately he had let his fears and anxieties get to him and for a moment, one brief moment, he had thought it was real. It was enough to make him run.
It was something The First had loved to hold over him.
That was something he had never, and probably never would, tell the gang. The First had only appeared to them a handful of times throughout that whole mess. It had appeared to him on a virtual daily basis. His gift of foresight was no secret to it and The First had loved to taunt him at his inability to see it. Even Caleb had been protected, albeit to a lesser extent.
By the time he had seen what would happen in the obvious trap they had been too committed for him to stop it, but not enough so to keep him from changing it. He saw those girls die, and he saw how he could save them. He saw Caleb take his eye and he stepped up anyways. What else could he have done?
It wasn’t until after the fall of Sunnydale that he finally found out for sure what he was. He was a Watcher, not the Council variety (not only anyway) but a type of psychic. There were other types too: movers, pushers, sniffers, porters, stitchers, phasers, and more. Apparently there were a lot of people born with psychic powers of one description or another. And organizations dedicated to finding them.
They came across one while rebuilding the Council; an American government sponsored agency known simply as The Division. They offered to use some of the psychics who worked for them to help track down Slayers for the Council and asked for very little in return. Division came to them with an offer of friendship and cooperation.
So why, as he watched Giles shake hands with Agent Carver, did Xander feel like they just made a deal with the devil?