I‘m Coming to Get You
Title: I‘m Coming to Get You (1/?)
Author: Ed Scott
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners... none of
who are me.
Summary: Response to Anime Ronin’s Soldier Boy Challenge. I hope I get this right.
Warning: Crossovers (Of course)
Feedback, It's the coin of the realm.
The nightmares were getting worse. Xander had a feeling that war was Hell, and considering where he lives, that’s saying something. Fighting in Vietnam, killing the enemy, or those who I was told were my enemies, being held prisoner in a POW camp. The images of being starved, beaten, and tortured were gruesome. Xander hated closing his eyes, even during the day. Those images were too intense to want to relive them. Let alone dream them.
It had been a week since Ethan Rayne decided to have his fun in Sunnydale. And Xander had barely slept during that time. Maybe going as the husband of his mother’s sister wasn’t such a good idea after all. Damn that Ethan Rayne. Giles will have to wait until I kill his old running buddy before he gets his mitts on him. Giles. I need to talk to Giles. And I don’t care if it is 2 in the morning.
Xander went into a loose floorboard that was near his bed. He removed a cross, a couple stakes and another change of clothes. “Please let Angel try to scare me so I can tell Buffy that I didn’t know the vampire I killed was Angel until it was too late.” What kind of a macho name is Angel anyway?
It was 2:30 in the morning when Rupert Giles, High School Librarian and Watcher to the Slayer, was awoken at ‘This Ungodly Hour.’ “I’m coming. Don’t get yer knickers in a twist.” A grumpy and ruffled Rupert Giles opened his door, to see a frazzled Xander Harris standing at his door.
“Xander? What’s wrong?” Xander pushed his way into Giles’ apartment to show he wasn’t a vampire.
“It’s like this, Giles. Ever since last week’s events, I’ve been having nightmares of places I’ve never been doing things I never did. They’re so terrifying that I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since. I need sleep and I don’t know what to do.” Xander collapsed on Giles’ couch. Utterly exhausted and unable to sleep.
“This is most peculiar, Xander. The spell that Ethan Rayne did hasn’t been done in so long, I’m not even sure what to look for. Other than animal possessions, that is.” Giles grimaced as soon as he said it.
“Thanks for bringing THAT up, Giles.”
“Sorry, Xander. I could try to repress the memories. The nightmares should go away without the memories to fuel them.”
“That would be a great help, Giles. But, uh do you think you could alter the spell so I can get everything back in case the memories were needed? The nightmares are a small price to pay to keep everybody safe.”
Giles might have been called many things in the past, but his current self was a planner. He knew what was planned for Buffy should she last another year. But more information was needed.
“Out of curiosity, who did you dress as?”
“My uncle on my mother’s side. He was a Vietnam War veteran. Was the best at what he did. The last of his unit from what my aunt told my mom. He had some trouble when he returned, but that was to be expected.”
“Of course. What is your uncle’s name?”
“John Rambo.” Giles couldn’t believe it. His brother Roger went to Vietnam and told him stories of an American unit including one John Rambo. If his SAS brother was impressed by an American, then he must be good.
“Very well. Do the others know of your nightmares?”
“Hell no. If I told them, they’d overreact. Willow would hover over me, to never let me out of her sight and Buffy would void me like I had the plague, got a third eye or something.”
Finding the book he was looking for, Giles answered Xander. “Understood. I’ll wall up these memories, unlike the hyena which we got rid of that day I took you to see that African holy man I know. I‘ll let you keep the instincts, the procedures and the like, but I’ll wall up the more dangerous skills. That is what is causing the nightmares. Now, I’ll open the windows when we‘re done. The spell is rather odiferous. It smells. The wall will crumble when you believe there is no other choice left. If I’m going to do this, you have to do something for me. I need you to work out everyday. I don’t mean spar with Buff. I mean running, weights, get lessons at the martial arts dojo in the area. If you need help, I’ll help you all I can. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Of course. Now, do that voodoo you do so well.”
“I’ll get right on it, Hedy.”