Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Alexander 'Brand' Fraiser

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: A different decision in BB&B leads Xander Harris on a new journey that will restore him to his real mother and will lead him on a journey to become who he was meant to be.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Xander-Centered > Theme: Xander's Real FamilyBarefootXOFR1824,15529817,4448 May 0911 May 09No

Healing Wounds

I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate. They belong to Joss Whedon and MGM respectively.

The brand is the right half of the set of wings that were the symbol for Angel the Series. Check the CD cover if you want to see it. I thought the idea of only one wing worked as a symbol for Angelus, since an Angel with one wing can only be described as fallen or falling. Congrats to the two or three of you who recognised it and some really good guesses from the rest of you.


Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
February 22nd 1998

It was an interesting experience, feeling like he was swimming in pain, as though pain were something tangible and that you could bathe in it. It was an experience he had never truly understood before and he found it to be incredibly disturbing. If he ever experienced it again, it would be far too soon. It was in this bath of liquid pain that he finally began to notice his senses restoring themselves to full function. The increase in pain was slight but tangible but, realising that this was the only route to wakefulness, he grabbed it fiercely, knowing that he had to get away before Angelus returned.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly as the bright lights assaulted his sensitive eyes. Normally he hated waking up to the pain of bright light, but this time he relished the sensation, taking comfort from the painful rays of light that said it was day and Angelus must be gone from wherever he was now. He groaned loudly and shifted slightly before he thought better of it at the jolt of pain that lanced through his body. He found himself restrained, but figured it was probably more for his health then for prison. “Wha’s goin’ on?” he slurred out, still barely holding consciousness.

It was then that he found a woman leaning over him, a kind smile on her face as she spoke softly to him, her fairly short red hair marking her as someone he’d never seen before and her white lab-coat suggesting that she was a doctor. Something in him called out to this woman in a way that it never had to any other, even Willow and Cordy. It wasn’t romantic, he could quite firmly certain of that. Granted, she was beautiful enough, but she was old enough to be his mother for God’s sake. Older types were Buffy’s thing, not his. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was something about her that spoke to him, even without him being able to piece together whatever she was trying to say.

It mattered little at this time. Xander was pretty sure he was safe now and that would have to do. And so he tuned out the world again and returned to his slumber.


Crawford Street Mansion
February 22nd 1998


Angelus glanced up and met the eyes of Clayton, one of his minions. “Yes.”

“The Harris kid survived, Master. A neighbour found him before he died and called the ambulance. He’s currently in the hospital under heavy guard.”

Angelus blinked. He had considered the possibility of Harris surviving and had decided to take the chance of leaving the boy still alive to die on the doorstep as a way of making Buffy feel even more guilty then she would have if he had just been killed outright. The slow death of Harris would have been a mocking cry out to her that she had neglected her precious mortal lapdog. Angelus had figured that if Harris somehow survived that he could be finished off in the hospital. To find out that the boy was under guard was insane. “The slayer?” He could not imagine how she found the time, but it was possible he supposed.

Clayton shook his head. “No, Master. He is guarded night and day by two members of the Air Force.”

Angelus felt his eyes bulge like an anime cartoon. “Air Force? What the hell does the Air Force want with guarding Harris? The cops, maybe, but the Air Force?”

Clayton shook his head. “It’s the Air Force, Master.”

“The dam has found my kitten. Making him safe now from all of us. No more playing with the almost naughty kitten, oh no…”

Angelus turned to Drusilla who just kept muttering and Spike who shrugged in confusion. It was so hard to find good help these days.


Sunnydale High School
February 22nd 1998

“I’ve waited over a week and I’m not waiting anymore. Something bad happened to him, I know it.”

Giles sighed heavily at Willow’s little tirade to him and Buffy and Oz. He had to mentally grant that Willow had been more then patient in waiting out what Buffy and he had been sure was a sulk over Cordelia dumping him or a bout of the flu or something simple. Perhaps it was simple denial, now that he had thought about it, but it could no longer be ignored with the threat of Angelus lurking over every doorstep, it was all too possible that Angelus had got to the boy. If so, then God help the lad, because few others would be able to manage it. “I agree. We must accept the fact that this silence is unnatural. Xander should have contacted us by now. Whether Miss Chase humiliated him or not is irrelevant. The boy simply doesn’t have it in him to ignore the threats out there and so he should have spoken to someone by now. I don’t like the timing of this at all.”

Buffy merely nodded meekly. She had fought hard at the beginning, honestly believing that Xander just needed some time to get perspective on Cordy dumping him. The problem was that well over a week of silence was ridiculous, even for the truest love, for Xander to disappear completely. She wasn’t dead, for heaven’s sake. And so Buffy reluctantly agreed that this might just be very bad.

Oz, of course, just nodded agreeably. He had not argued either side of the debate, agreeing silently with both sides for the first while, though he had quickly come to join Willow’s belief that Xander might be in trouble as time went by.

Willow’s face was uncharacteristically grim. “I’m going to go to Xander’s house and check on him. I’d like for Buffy and Oz to come with me, just in case Angelus shows up.”

Giles agreed quickly, with Buffy and Oz quick to follow. This had gone on far too long. It was time to find their MIA Scooby.


Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
February 23rd 1998

Janet Fraiser sat patiently at the side of her lost son, waiting for him to return to her. The previous day it had looked like he might do it, but it seemed he hadn’t quite made it, returning as he had to the realm of the unconscious.

He was very different then she remembered obviously, even ignoring the prominent brand mark on his face these days. He was far taller and broader then the four-year-old who had supposedly died in a car accident over a decade ago. He had her ex-husband’s, may he burn in hell, thatch of shaggy brown hair, but he also had Janet’s own molten bronze eyes, or at least he did when he was awake. He was taller then she by a lot, but then she was never very tall and he now had more injuries, old and new, due to torture or abuse then a fair number of POWs in history. Jack O’Neill had more, but he was an extreme case, as always.

Janet brushed back her son’s hair to keep it out of her son’s eyes. Her son. She still couldn’t understand how that happened. She was going to separate a lot of heads from a lot of shoulders when she found out who was responsible for this snafu that had left her childless and her son in this dangerous little town. Even without researching it, Janet needed only to look at her son to know that something terrible lurked beneath the sleepy façade of this town. Something that was going to feel her wrath if she ever got a hold on it.


Sunnydale City Hall
February 23rd 1998

“The Air Force!”

Allan Finch flinched spectacularly. This had to have been the first time that the Mayor was ever more then slightly ruffled. He did not like the idea of unknown military elements running about without his say so. The military were very dangerous if you weren’t in control of them. That tiny army base on the edge of town, where young Xander had stolen the rocket launcher, was fully under the Mayor’s thumb. But elements of the Air Force in Sunnydale was bad.

Wilkins seemed to bring himself back under that powerful control of his, almost as quickly as he slipped. “Well gosh, what are the Air Force doing here in my neck of the woods, Allan? I could have sworn I gave orders that nobody was to attract them to our fair city. The little NID band that have been trying to set up a research post here are bad enough.”

Allan nodded eagerly, thanking his lucky stars that this blunder couldn’t be traced to him in any way. “Yes, Mister Mayor. It seems that Alexander Harris, from the slayer’s gang of friends, is actually Alexander Fraiser. He’s the only son of Captain Janet Fraiser, USAF. I’m not entirely certain which intelligence asset let us down on his parentage as yet, but rest assured I’ll find it, sir.”

Wilkins nodded amiably in response. “All right, Allan. See to it that when you figure out who’s responsible that their contract is terminated with us permanently. I can’t abide sloppiness on this level. Now, what can you tell me about how the good Captain discovered her beloved son, Allan?”

Allan smiled. This was even less likely to lead to his death then the last. After all, he could hardly be at fault for the rogue elements, right? “It seems that Angelus and his merry band killed the boy's supposed parents and then tortured the lad to the very edge of death. He then left the body on the front porch, where it was discovered by a neighbour.”

Richard sighed in exasperation. “Honestly, you’d think that a vampire his age would have some sense. Have one of our groups inform him of our displeasure and make him understand that his highly visible torture of well-connected victims is a poor unlife choice.”

Allan Finch grinned. “Yes, sir.”


Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
February 23rd 1998

“What’s goin’ on?”

Janet jerked awake at the far more coherent muttering from her previously sleeping son. “Alex?”

Xander gave her an odd look. “It’s Xander, Doc.”

Janet smiled slightly. “Okay… Xander. I should tell you, though, I’m not your doctor.”

Xander blinked. “Not my doctor… Then, not to be rude or anything, but why are you here.”

Janet felt tears well in her eyes as she clutched he son’s hand fiercely, causing the poor boy to give her an even more quizzical look. She couldn’t really blame him. “Because I thought you were dead, and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind my presence here.”

‘Thought I was dead?’ Xander’s confusion redoubled as he tried desperately to figure out what was going on. “You thought I was dead… Why?”

Janet smiled sadly. “I was informed that you and your father died in a car crash.”

Xander felt a chip of ice form in his stomach. “My parents were killed just yesterday, and I don’t have a clue how anyone could be dumb enough to tell you they died in a car crash.”

Janet had difficulty maintaining even a sad smile. “I’m afraid that the people who died when you were attacked weren’t your parents, Xander.” She didn’t even bother to correct his assumption that he’d only been out a day. They could quibble over that another time.

Xander felt a distant lightening in his chest at that. It didn’t make accepting the idea that the people who had raised him were dead any easier, but it didn’t help him to know that the people who had treated him like dirt over the years, even as they provided for him, were not his parents. “Who are then?”

When he didn’t react very emotionally to this, Janet felt a surge of hope, mixed with dread at what might cause such a fairly unemotional reaction to the idea that one’s parents weren’t one’s parents. “As I said, your father died in a car crash and I was told that you had died with him.”

‘I was told…’ Xander’s tired mind finally made the connection. There were limited reasons why she’d be told of his death. One of the very few was the blatantly obvious. “You’re my mother?”

Janet nodded, allowing another sad smile to grace her face. “Yes Alex… Xander. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me.”

It was perhaps not the most ideal situation in the world, but as mother and son talked together for the first time in over a decade, they clutched fiercely at each other and finally began to heal.


Sunnydale High School
February 23rd 1998

“I thought you were checking Xander’s house, Willow?”

“I did. There was police tape all over the place. I’m trying to hack into the hospital records to find out if he’s there.”

“Why not simply ask?”

“They won’t release that kind of information to someone who isn’t a relative.” Willow tapped the keys in irritation. “About time. For a moment there I thought they’d removed the back door.” Willow quickly scanned records. “Anthony and Jessica Harris are filed as DOAs.”

Giles offered up a look of confusion. “DOAs?”

“Dead on arrival.”

“Good lord. And Xander?”

“No records of Alexander Harris being admitted… but they closed his file down at the hospital.”

Giles felt a cold shiver down his spine. “What does that mean?”

Willow’s face was grim. “It means that they don’t expect they’ll ever need to use it again.”

“Oh bloody hell.”


I don't know anything about hospital procedures, and I doubt what I've written is true, but for the purposes of this fic, Alexander Fraiser was the one admitted, not Alexander Harris. And since Alexander Harris was now considered Fraiser, his file was copied into Alexander Fraiser's and then closed permanently... Hope nobody minds my little device...


The End?

You have reached the end of "Alexander 'Brand' Fraiser" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 11 May 09.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking