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Summary: A place to place to put all the ideas that interrupt the stories I'm writing.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-CenteredPupFR151629,44818040,61122 May 112 Oct 12No

Of The Blood

Disclaimer: The show Buffy the vampire slayer and X-men Evolution belong not to me to their respective creators, studios and whatnot. Just two story placeholders so I can remember that I had this idea.



Prologue 1



Xander turned his head, closing his eyes and mouth as the ash that had so recently been a vampire rained down on top of him. Quickly sitting up he wiped the sleeve of his shirt over his face and spat repeatedly to get rid of the ash that had found its way into his mouth, rising to his feet he scanned graveyard to see how everyone else was fairing. Up ahead Buffy was holding her own against three vampires, to his left Giles was using his rapier to keep another vamp at bay and a little ways away from that Willow and Oz were taking shots at any vampire that they thought they could dust. Out of the original nine there were only four vampires left and no one had been injured yet, all in all a good night.



This however being the Hellmouth a place of evil where dark forces gathered, good nights were few and far between and this was not one of them. Moments after Giles beheaded the vampire he was facing and Buffy finished of two of the three she was facing in quick succession, the last one turned and ran catching an arrow in his shoulder from Oz’s crossbow. Any pats on the back or words of congratulation were preempted by the return of the vampire that had just fled, by way of flying through the air and slamming into the side of a mausoleum. The gang’s attention was drawn away from the insensate vampire on the ground by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the small forest that grew alongside the graveyard.



A deep booming bass voice issued forth from the tree line “Pathetic little fledgling, fleeing from a slayer.” In contrast to the powerful sounding voice what stepped out from between the trees appeared to be an average human male, if you overlooked the deathly gray pallor of his skin and that the whites of his eyes matched his skin tone. “Do what you wish with the rest but leave me the slayer.” The trees behind him began to rustle as more forms became visible, vampires, each of them laughing or smiling a malicious smile. As the Scooby’s moved toward each other the vampires charged, stopping them from presenting a unified front. Almost immediately they were overrun and Xander lost track of everyone else as he fought to just survive for another moment.



The vampires were packed so tight that the first two were dust almost as soon as they were on him, then everything turned to shit. He went to stake a vampire only for another to grab his arm, kicking out he caught it in the knee and freed his hand when it grabbed at its injured leg. Turning back he caught a fist to his jaw that knock him back and down on one knee, the next hit dropped him to the ground and then the kicking began. From all around him, foot after foot struck out forcing him to curl up in a ball to protect his more vulnerable body parts. Unfortunately every part is the vulnerable part when dealing with creatures that possess supernatural strength. Xander gritted his teeth and pulled forward the remaining pieces of his past possessions, the soldier for his cool head and discipline, the hyena for its resilience and drive.



Peeking out from between his arms he focused on one leg, pushing aside the pain that radiated throughout his body, everything until that leg became his whole world. His hand struck out and grabbed it when it kicked forward again, pulling on it and dragging the vampire off balance. As the fell backwards, taking a number of its brethren with it, it created a hole and Xander made use of it. Throwing himself clear of the vampiric mob Xander rolled to his feet, frantically searching the ground for anything that could double as a makeshift stake to replace the one he’d lost. Before he could find anything he was back on his feet, his hands held behind his back by two vampires as the one he had tripped walked towards him. “Oh that was a bad move bloodbag, now I’m gonna make you bleed.” Then the fists started coming, along with cheers and jeers from the vampires watching his beating and it was all he could do to stay conscious, the soldier whispering in the back of his head ‘Stay alive, as long as your alive your chance will come.’ And that became his mantra as the beating continued, stay alive.



As his body was rocked by the powerful blows of the vampire, Xanders body would bend and twist allowing him to catch glimpses of what was happening to the others. Over a vampires shoulder he saw Buffy and the gray skin demon exchanging blows, through a gap in the vampires around him he spotted a bloody Giles fighting with a broken rapier and a stake. Then everything changed, he spotted Willow on the ground shimmying backwards away from a group of leering vampires, her shirt hanging off of her in tatters and her face contorted in fear. In that moment the whole of creation froze, ‘They were going to rape Willow. They were going to violate his sister in all but blood, destroy the last vestiges of his family/pack. They were, they were….they were going to DIE!!!’ Alexander Harris, the soldier and the hyena were swallowed up by a beast whose awakening roar shook existence back into motion.



The vampires that were restraining his hands screamed in shock and pain before being hurled through the air allowing him to pull his hands in front of him. For a moment he admired the claws that had emerged from his hands (the two outer ones grew from near the middle of the back of his hand while the last grew from between his second and third knuckles), another part of himself that had been sealed away by his more civilized half. Then he became death incarnate to anything he viewed as a threat to his pack-mate and anything that stood between him and eliminating that threat. He dove into battle, ripping into enemies with a body and senses no longer inhibited by an ever constant nagging voice claiming that this was possible and this wasn’t, that he could do one thing but not another.



Slamming bodily into a vampire he sunk his claws into its chest, dismissing it as a viable threat as he charged through the resulting dust cloud. The claws on his left hand broke off in a vampire’s stomach when he was tackled from behind rolling with the hit he ended up on top of his assailant and buried his claws into its face, one claw in each eye with the middle one passing through the nasal bridge. By now most of the vampires had already figured out that there was a real threat amongst their toys for the evening and by minion mentality decided to overpower it with sheer numbers. The beast that had been Xander Harris met numbers with ferocity, ripping into enemy after enemy while shrugging off injuries that quickly healed. All this carnage served one simple purpose, to reach and protect His Willow. However one of the pitfalls of a feral mind is that in combat it has a tendency to lose itself to the rush of battle and the spray of blood, the urge to lay low your enemies and then find a stronger adversary a frame of mind many refer to as battle frenzy or a berserker rage. As vampire after vampire fell against him he slowly slipped into the berserker state, his last coherent thought was that the broken claws on his left hand appeared to be repairing themselves.



The sudden impact of his back against the unforgiving bark of a tree that knocked the breath from his lungs followed by another impact, this time his body hitting the ground where he continued to lay as he watched the gray skinned demon quickly limp away were Xanders first memories since seeing Willow. For a moment he was dazed, what had happened, how’d he get free, why was all of his clothes covered in slashes and rips, where were all the vampires? All that lost its importance when his last memory replayed in his mind, his head swiveling around the graveyard in a desperate attempt to locate Willow. A huge sigh of relief escaped from his mouth as he finally found her, standing next to Giles in a tight embrace with Oz. That sigh of relief released the tension that had been keeping his overstressed body active and mobile once he left his berserker state, without it he fell unconscious his head dropping to the ground with all the finesse of a brick.



Authors Note: There will eventually be a couple of chapters between these two prologues....one day......hopefully



Prologue 2



“Why should I help you Raven?” Logan growled from where he sat across the table from Mystique. “You’ve never been one care about anyone, especially a kid, beyond what they can do for you.”



“Because he’s your son, our son.” Mystique said almost too low to be heard over the combined noise generated by the patrons of Harry’s Pub and the jukebox belting out Johnny Cash. The distinctive SNIKT of Logan’s claws unsheathing let her know that he had heard her clearly.



Logan retracted his claws and glared at her, his voice lower, more feral when he spoke. “I’m not in the mood to play any games Mystique.” he got up from his seat grabbed his Stetson and put it on his head. “The next time you try something like this I’ll gut you and leave you where you lie.”



“May 18, 1980,” He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Mystique as she continued to speak “One of the few times where we weren’t trying to kill each other.” The smile on her face took on a mocking quality. “I left with a lot more than a smile and your wallet that night.”



Logan’s mind began to whirl with the possibility that he might have a son out there somewhere, that he was a father. Then his thoughts took another turn she had been pregnant with his child, gave birth to his son and never even had the decency to let him know. She’d taken away any decision to be in his son’s life, to watch him grow and be a father to him. He felt the anger bubbling up in him and the Wolverine latching on to it demanding that he made her pay. Several deep breathes later he reigned his anger in and shoved aside the urge to do major bodily harm to the woman in front of him. Sitting back down he said the only thing he could. “Why?”



“Why what Logan?”



“Why didn’t you tell? Why’d you hide him from me? Why tell me now? And a hundred other whys that I can’t think of right now!” he caught his voice rising near the middle of his reply and dropped it to a whispered yell.



Mystique’s response was rational and analytic as if she had gone over it until she knew it by heart. “He was better off without us, I mean growing up with mommy and daddy on different sides of a mutant civil war doesn’t sound like decent childhood to me. I could at least let him have that.” Her eyes went to the table as she finished speaking.



“You should have told me. I could have been there for him, protected him…” He was cut off by a sharp laugh, lacking any true amusement, from Mystique.



“Protected him? You really think that Logan, what do you think Victor would have done had he known, just for the chance to hurt you? Do you think that Eric or Charles wouldn’t have tried to recruit him, by force if necessary? What about HYDRA, SHIELD, Weapon X or any number of people and organizations out there, do you think that you could have kept him safe from them?” her eyes shifted to original yellow hue as her anger caused her control to slip. “No, I did what was best for him.”



As much as he wanted to disagree, to declare that he could have protected his son against anything that wanted to harm him, he couldn’t. At his core Logan had always been a realist, he couldn’t lie to himself given the chance any number of people would have done (probably still would do) whatever it took to get their hands on his son for a number of reasons. “If it’s so dangerous then why expose him to all of this now?”



“Because I don’t have a choice. Before I gave him up I had tests run,” anticipating Logan’s question she continued “the children of two active X-gene parents usually fall into one of two categories, active from birth or not at all. His came back negative, so I let him go gave him up for adoption in California. I kept an eye on him, as close as I could without drawing attention to him or what I was doing. At first things were fine he was active, playful, had decent grades and friends. The father drank but wasn’t physically violent so I let it slide. Then three years ago things started to change, his name began ending up in police reports, hospital reports and I got concerned. After doing some research I found out that he was living on a dimensional tear, a demonic one.” Whatever she was going to say next was cut off by Logan’s outburst.



“You left my son on a Hellmouth!!!” conversations around them drew to an abrupt halt as most of the bar turned its attention on their table. A low deep growl combined with a threatening stare made most of the onlookers decide that they had their own more interesting conversations to finish. Harry took care of the rest before nodding to Logan and returning to his domain behind the bar. He repeated his earlier statement, this time in a reasonable calm voice “You left him on a Hellmouth.”



“I didn’t know at the time that it was a Hellmouth, and when I found out I made plans to remove him from it. It took longer than I had planned to actually implement any of them.” Seeing the Wolverine pacing behind the eyes of Logan Mystique continued in hopes of avoiding a needless and counterproductive fight. “Magneto required a job completed and if I had turned it down or suddenly left he or Sabertooth would have become suspicious. I went after him about a month ago; found out that that the tests were wrong, he’s second generation powerful too.” She smiled wistfully for a moment before frowning. “I haven’t done a lot of good things in my life Logan, we both know that, but Alexander is one of those few good things in that I’ve done my life and I don’t want to see what he’ll become if Eric or Victor get their hands on him.”



“Alexander.” Logan said slowly as if testing the name on his tongue before looking into her eyes. “Where is he?”



“He’s safe, unless he went out playing white knight again.” Mystique smirked “He does have his father’s tendency to find a disproportionate number of damsels in distress.”



“You know that’s not what I’m asking Rae.” Logan shook his head trying to forget the fact that he’d just called her by an old affectionate nickname. “Tell me where he is so that I can go get him.”



“No, I’ll bring him to you. Tomorrow, at the mansion.” Mystique stood up and grabbed her purse. “And Logan, if any harm comes to my son I’ll make you wish that you could die.” A moment and a look passed between the two before she turned and disappeared into the crowded bar.




This is a Mix-Mash of different X-men series, mostly focused on Evolution
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