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Ties That Bind

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Summary: Sometimes a bond can form between yourself and someone you hardly even know

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Smallville > Xander-CenteredMarcDFR15520,03454125,5524 Oct 051 Nov 06No

Ties That Bind

Author: mjd (Marc D.)

Title: Ties That Bind

Disclaimer : I don't own any of this.

AN: I have messed with the timelines for the two realities I am crossing over so that they will mesh with how I want them


Clark tossed the football a few feet above his head, catching it with a carefree smile as it fell into his hands. His life, while extremely complicated, was beginning to look a little bit better every day.

Just recently he had joined the school's football team, even going so far as to gain his father’s acceptance and guidance when all was said and done. He was now their starting quarterback. He had his teammates’ respect; and they had just won their first big game.

Clark tugged slightly on his Smallville High varsity football Jacket. His friends kept telling him that the jacket simply didn’t have his colors. Those colors being red and yellow, with a stylish ‘S’ on the left breast, but he had told his friends that those were the ‘school colors.’ And, while he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he actually thought those colors looked nice on him. But that would go with him to his grave.

His grin widened into a smile as he overlooked his backyard, otherwise known as farmland. He couldn’t help but to remember his game winning 60-yard pass. As he looked over the open field he tossed the ball, into the night air, as he had done earlier, during the game.

It was like he was living it again. However, unlike last time, he was the one running after the ball. With inhuman speed, he raced after the throw. However, unlike the game earlier, there had not been immense solar flares suddenly shooting from the sun.

Scientists wouldn’t notice the presence of the solar flare until a short time after it had occurred. The same couldn’t be said for the young man currently running at high speeds after the football he had just thrown.

Being supercharged by the immense burst of energy granted by the solar flare, Clark Kent blurred out of Smallville and had traveled a great distance before his pass even touched the ground of the empty field.

Clark had already had the unfortunate experience of being supercharged by solar flares. When they had last occurred, his ability to control his hyped up abilities were almost nil. And that was even after they had figured out what was going on, and he had been forced to take extra care, and extra precautions when moving but a muscle.

This time, however, the solar flare had caught him completely unawares. By the time the immense influx in power had bled through his system, and he was able to focus on the blurring landscape, he began to put all of his concentration on making his limbs stop moving at such a quickened pace.

By the time he was able to get his limbs under control, while thanking whatever deity was out there that he had not collided with anyone, or anything, he began to wonder just where in the hell he was.

It was unfortunate that he was closer to the mark than he would have expected. The warmer climate may not have warned him, but the fact that he had stopped in a graveyard, one of many, may have clued him in.

Clark looked around the desolate graveyard. Not just the graveyard, but also the surrounding areas looked completely deserted. He cautiously used his senses, trying to locate some sign that someone was around. He had to stifle a sigh. Not even a heartbeat in the immediate area. Well, none besides his own. The only lead that he had to go on was a muffled noise, from what he assumed to be a club, a fair distance away.

Now letting out a sigh, Clark began to wander out of the graveyard and towards, what he hoped was, civilization. Perhaps there would be a newspaper stand, or phone book on his way there. There had to be something that would tell him where he was. He also needed to contact his parents and tell them to call him in sick for tomorrow. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to get home, but he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be done in one long run. And even though it had been exhilarating flying when he had been Kal-el, he had no desire to repeat that performance, even if he could, he still wasn’t too fond of heights. With that thought in mind he began to make his way quietly and with purpose.



Xander had just said goodnight to his two best friends. He was glad that both Buffy and Cordelia were fine. Even if Cordelia barely gave him the time of day, he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather throw barbs back and forth with.

Buffy had saved both herself and Cordelia from becoming sacrifices to some sort of Lizard demon boy, named Machida, or something similar. Not that it mattered now that it was dead.

Xander shook his head at the events that had transpired. ‘Stupid frat boys, you’d think college guys would be smart. Or at least smarter!’ Xander was concentrated on his musings while semi-unconsciously remaining in the artificial light created by the streetlights. He still didn’t want to think about Buffy drinking that night. ‘Beer bad.’ That was definitely a good way to think. He prayed that he would never have that sort of problem. Just living with his parents had made alcohol something of a demon all in itself. He hoped it never spread to his friends as well.

A brief glimpse of red brought him out of his musings. Down the street, someone was walking in his direction. Though the man was on the other side of the road, and even though he looked to be only a year or two older than him, you could never be too careful. What he saw next made his heart stop. There were vampires, plural, and they were advancing on the unaware man in red. Xander’s heart almost stopped cold when the man turned around and actually greeted the vampires behind him. ‘Boy, won’t he be shocked when they go into game face.’ Before he even realized what was happening, Xander was sprinting towards the soon to be fight, or what was more likely to be a slaughter, with a stake in one hand and a cross in the other.


Clark had been wandering in the general direction the noise was coming from. With every step he took, the mix of music and chatter became stronger. He sighed to himself as he looked around. It looked like a nice little town. Yea, this was definitely a nice and quiet place where nothing happens; not like Smallville. Hell, he doubted this place could sport a ‘wall of weird’ that Chloe had not only filled, but also had articles overlapping each other. Clark smiled to himself. It may be nice to visit here some other time. Some rest and relaxation might be nice.

Clark was brought out of his musings as he saw someone. The guy had to be a year or two younger than him, but he would still have the information he needed. Though, explaining why he needed it may be somewhat difficult, but he’d think of something.

More than once he had thought he heard footsteps behind him, but they had been far too light to be an actual person. He looked behind him once, but saw nothing, and when concentrating on listening for breathing or a heartbeat, he heard nothing of the sort. Finding nothing he had written it off to hearing things, perhaps an effect of the solar flare.

But as he saw the kid walking towards him, he once again heard the shuffle of feet and quickly turned around. He was extremely surprised to see 6 guys dressed all in dark clothes. ‘How could they have gotten that close to me without me hearing it? And why don’t I hear any heartbeats?’ Clark had the feeling that his earlier musings were going to come back and bite him in the ass. ‘Perhaps this place wasn’t quite so normal after all.’ He took a step forward, intent on confronting them and finding out what was going on, when their faces completely shifted.

Their foreheads became ridged. Their eyes turned into a horrible golden red that he simply didn’t want to contemplate. Their hands were no longer as such. Now their fingers ended in sharp looking claws. And one other thing that caught Clark’s attention was the fact that they no longer had normal teeth. Oh no, now they had FANGS!

Clark shook his head and could only come up with one thought. ‘No way; vampires can’t be real!’ He truly didn't have time to contemplate that thought as the ‘things’ charged him.

Compared to his abilities, these ‘vampires’ moved like they were swimming through molasses. However, he didn’t know what was really going on, so hurting them was out of the question. He had been a part of far too many odd occurrences to jump to conclusions. Though, he had to admit, these things went from looking like a normal, pale individual, to looking truly demonic. But he still had to be careful; doubly so since he wasn’t sure if there would be any more solar activity. He needed more information. However, upon reflection at a later date, he would find himself cursing at just how he got that information.

Clark had been easily avoiding the swipes, and lunges, that these things were sending his way; when, out of nowhere, a blur passed by him. While not moving at superhuman speeds, the kid that he had been approaching earlier tackled one of these ‘vampires.’


Xander rolled with the tackle and forced his stake into the demon’s heart. Before the stake could dust with the vampire, he pulled it out. He glanced to his right to see the guy in red staring with wide eyes at what he had just done. Without even time to yell out a warning of what they were dealing with, another vampire sucker punched the mystery man in red.

Xander was somewhat shocked to see the guy shuffle his feet a pace and a half. Though, from his expression it was more the unexpectedness of the attack, rather than the force behind it, that had caused that semi-stumble. Well, there was that, and the fact that the vampire was clutching his hand and wailing in extreme pain clued him that something weird was going on. However, Xander didn’t have time to contemplate on that as two more vampires neared his position.

Clark watched in mute horror as two of those VAMPIRES approached the young man who was trying to save him. The kid actually warded off one of the vampires with a cross. Well, he attempted to. In an apparent display of boldness, the vampire swatted the cross out of the boy’s hand. The sound of sizzling flesh could be heard, and the smell was nauseating to Clark’s enhanced senses.

The other vampire took advantage of the kid’s momentary shock. With a speed that was far superior to a normal person, he had advanced on the kid. With a flick of the vampire’s hand the stake sailed out of the young man’s hand, and unfortunately for the vampires, landed only a foot away from Clark.

Before the stake had reached its final destination, the vampire had his other hand around the young man’s throat. With little effort the vampire had the kid dangling, his feet not even coming close to touching the ground. As the vampire was holding the kid in the air, the other vampire, who had swatted the cross away, approached the hapless victim while clenching and unclenching his already healed hand.

With two quick swipes of his claws, the vampire opened numerous, deep gashed that began to bleed profusely. They began to laugh at the kid’s choked moans of pain. The vampire let the kid drop to the ground, where the young man immediately clutched at his sides, his clothes quickly becoming stained from the blood gushing from the claw strikes.

Before he truly knew what had happened, Clark had retrieved the stake from the ground and was crouching in front of the wounded boy. The kid looked like he was having trouble staying conscious. With every passing second his face was becoming paler, his breathing more strained, and his heartbeat slightly more erratic. Yet, somehow, the kid still managed to speak.

In a rasped whisper he spoke, “Vamps, stake…through…heart. Don’t *gasp* let *gasp* stake *gasp* dust with *gasp* vamp.” With that last strained statement the kid’s eyes rolled back, and the kid began to slip away.

‘Christ they must have hit something in him.’ Clark was seething on the inside. This kid had run to his aide, and now he may die. He stood from his kneeling position and regarded the vampires with narrowed eyes.

He was a blur; before the first vampire had registered the sharp pain in his chest, the last vampire had been staked. And before the vampires began to turn into dust he was kneeling at the side of the young man.

He needed to stop the bleeding. He gently lifted the kid’s blood soaked shirt. As he delicately used his heat vision, praying that any solar activity was done for the foreseeable future, the wounds bleeding began to subside. He had to hand it to the kid; not once did he even stir. Once the wounds were no longer bleeding, he took off his varsity jacket and wrapped it around the kid.

Concentrating harder than he had ever done to date, he used any and every sense to locate the nearest hospital. It only took a few moments of overlaying his senses, but after those few moments, he was sure that he had found it.

Once again, he gently lifted the wounded kid into his arms. Again, praying for no more solar activity, he ran as fast as he could towards the hospital.


In no time at all he found himself at the hospital. With very little questions asked, the nurses and orderlies took the unconscious man that he had ‘found’ outside. He quickly made his way to another side of the building. Now that he knew where he was, he had to call home and figure out how he was going to back to Smallville. But, before he could leave, he had to make sure that the kid was going to pull through.

Clark knew there was nothing more that he could do for this unnamed boy. But he had to stick around, pray if nothing else. After what he saw tonight, perhaps prayer wouldn’t be such a bad idea. And if nothing else, they would rifle through his belongings, call in people who knew him, and then Clark would at least learn the young man’s name.


Calling his worried parents had gone well. They would make excuses while he made his way back home. He had enough money in his wallet, which was thankfully located in his pants, and not in the jacket he was never going to see again, to get a bus ride home. Well, close enough that could make the last leg of the journey himself.

It was a little over an hour later that two girls, around the boy’s age, and a man wearing a tweed suit, came barreling into the hospital. From the physical description the man was giving, not to mention the description of the clothes the kid had been wearing, given by the blonde girl, Clark had learned that the kid’s name was Xander. Clark shook his head with a small smile on his face. ‘What kind of name is Xander?’

It was a few hours later. The small group of friends, perhaps family, had been quietly talking about what had perhaps transpired. Clark had wanted to go over and shake that blonde girl, Buffy; he had heard her called ‘Buffy.’ She made it sound as though the kid had been ambushed, or attacked by a lone vampire. And he thought the name Xander was weird. Who name’s their kid ‘Buffy’?

That question was answered about thirty minutes later when Buffy’s mother came rushing into the hospital, engulfing her daughter, and her daughter’s friend, into caring arms. The man who had accompanied the girls observed the scene quietly, with a slight look of adoration on his face at the scene in front of him. A small smile crept onto Clark’s face, yet throughout it all he couldn’t fathom that woman naming her daughter Buffy.

Getting back on topic, even though he could hear the concern; he could tell that they were all near tears from the entire situation. To Clark, Xander had still waded into that situation to save his life. He didn’t like the fact that the kid was being shortchanged. He just hoped the girl apologized when the kid pulled through; if he pulled through.

It was an hour later when they finally got a doctor to come and see them. By that time the red head, Willow, and let’s not comment on that name, had already bawled her eyes out. This started Buffy with her crying. The English gentleman, Giles, seemed to be their rock and their father figure during this trying time. And for that, Clark found himself grateful. His sensitive hearing picked up the English man’s kind words on the young hero. He had given the girls, and unknowingly Clark, the emotional support needed to wait out the prolonged waiting time.

Clark wasn’t sure what was going on. It shouldn’t have taken this long. And when they had been told that the doctors they had on call tonight were being kept extremely busy with other patients, which was why they hadn’t been able to come out and tell them Xander’s condition, the others simply accepted that and waited as well as they could. Though, on more than a few occasions, Buffy had to be talked down from storming back there and find out what had happened to her ‘Xander-shaped friend.’ That placed her up a few notches from where her earlier comments about how he may have wound up in here.

The doctor had come out and profusely apologized for keeping them waiting for so long. It seemed that Xander would be fine. He would need quite a few days of bed rest, but he would ultimately be fine. The doctor couldn’t explain how the wounds had been sealed. It was as if a source of heat had done the job, but there were no burn marks, no scorched skin. There was only a sealed wound.

The doctor went on to tell them how they had reopened the wounds and checked for any internal injuries. After finding nothing that was life threatening, they had resealed, stitched, and dressed the wounds.

Xander was still asleep, and would remain under observation for the night. But he would be free to go home tomorrow afternoon; anytime before dark. Clark was slightly shocked to find out that the kid’s parents vehemently refused to come down and either see, or retrieve their son. He was further shocked to learn that Xander had this ‘Mr. Giles’ listed as an emergency contact. So, apparently Xander would be released into Giles’ care for however long. Though Clark was extremely confused about the relationship between these people when he overheard the doctor reading off the man’s information, and it had him listed as the school librarian.

Clark decided not to question it anymore. He had been dead wrong. He couldn’t wait to get back to Smallville. He had to suppress a shudder as he left the hospital with a particular thought on his mind. ‘I can’t wait to go back to Smallville. Compared to this place, home is actually normal.’

Clark would have liked to suppress the memories of this place. He knew there was no way he was going to tell anyone about what happened here. Not even his parents would ever learn about the existence of the demons that roamed the streets of this ‘quiet little town.’ He resigned himself to keeping this secret unless it became a situation that would affect his family. And, as much as he would like to repress this past night, he knew he never would.

No, he would never let himself do that. Knowing that there were things like this out there was a frightening thought. Knowing that there were people like Xander, and perhaps even his friends, gave him hope. He would have to come back here from time to time. He would do it, if for no other reason, than to check up on Xander from time to time. He had grown to like, and most definitely respect, the boy a few years his junior. The kid had bled for him; that sort of thing forms a bond.
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