The Dead Deal

Part II

Xander was incredibly anxious as he marked the 14th of November with a red X on his calendar. The red marker squeaked unnecessarily loud against the matte page and it only reminded him how nothing about the past few weeks was working out the way he wanted. To keep himself from over-thinking about the fourth attempt at a first date with Buffy, the raven-haired teen picked up his blue caddy of cleaning supplies and returned to cleaning his house. Faith wasn’t the cleanest roommate—clothes thrown about, empty bags of chips, books, and magazines laid about; not that he was complaining. Apart from working out and forging, cleaning gave him more to focus on.

Xander was scrubbing the black oak coffee table from the pudding pop that melted and dried on it, as his mind wandered between Buffy, runes, his mistakes, his parents, the time braid, and how many recent Scooby mysteries he had missed. The two most prevalent thoughts were dates he hadn’t had with Buffy and failing to be in the right place at the right time. In the first-ever loop Xander had reached the invisible monster, Der Kindestod, he barely did anything; Angel helped Buffy more. The first time he reached the poltergeist lovers, he messed that up, too. And since school started, he’d only missed more opportunities to help.

Scrubbing hard at the particularly stubborn dried sugar, Xander reflected on how little he knew about fixing cars. He had a driver’s license but no car, or else he would’ve made it in time to help Buffy and Faith fight the monstrous Pete Clarner two weeks prior. That night would’ve been his first date with Buffy if they hadn’t discovered a mauled victim they all knew from school, a senior—like them—by the name of Jeff Walken. Jeff was friends with Oz, Scott Hope, Pete Clarner, and Debbie Foley.

After Xander and Buffy rescheduled their second attempt at a first date, Mr. Platt, the guidance counselor, died next, and the Scoobies had to focus on figuring out who the culprit was. Only, Xander wasn’t around to help then either. He learned after the fact that Pete Clarner was abusing a horrific tonic meant to mature him into a more masculine man for his girlfriend, Debbie. Only, the tonic he created changed him into a raging monster who became aggressively territorial over Debbie. The tonic, Xander was to learn, only brought out all the worst qualities in Pete. The misguided Pete nearly killed Oz, then mercilessly killed his girlfriend before Buffy snapped his neck. Willow had called him while he was forging a better ring at Dinks to help catch the escaped werewolf Oz. Giles, Faith, Willow, and even Cordelia were in school while he couldn’t run fast enough to help them.

‘Pathetic,’ Xander yelled in his mind as he scrubbed at the dried sugar set on the carpet.

On the third attempt at a date a few days before, Xander invited Buffy to Homecoming, which she happily accepted. The gang had real fervor about the special night. Xander and Willow even reminisced about their younger days. They were in Willow’s room getting ready for the dance. She was trying on dresses while Xander gave his honest, if uninformed, opinion. While he dressed in his tux, Willow had four dresses laid out on the bed. She walked from behind a privacy screen in a deep blue flare dress with a casual neckline.

With a bit of a spin, Willow asked her childhood friend, “What do you think of this?”

Xander was getting ready as well, casually putting on his tuxedo one cumbersome article at a time, when he looked at his best friend through the mirror in front of him. In truth, she looked beautiful in anything she wore, but nothing stood out yet, so he answered, “Beautiful.”

Willow wasn’t impressed and returned to the privacy screen to try on another dress. From behind the screen, she voiced out, “It’s my first big dance, you know, where there’s a boy and a band, and not just me alone in my room pretending there’s a boy and a band. So, I want it to be...”

“...Special,” Xander easily filled in, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

“Yeah.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I spared no expense on the tux and limo,” Xander returned.

“And you didn’t even have to go to your cousin Rigby,” Willow pointed out. “I wasn’t a fan of his before, but, he wouldn’t even lift a finger to help you over the summer. I’m way less of a fan now.”

“You don’t make as much money as he has without selling your soul,” Xander replied.

Willow walked out of the privacy screen wearing a dark purple floral lace bodice prom dress with a pink ribbon on her waist. She slid up the hem of the long dress to do a little twirl before asking, “What do you think of this?”

Again, his redheaded childhood friend looked beautiful, and he answered as he had before. “Beautiful.” Shaking her head with disapproval, Willow walked up to Xander and grabbed his black bow tie from his hand. Thanks to Sherlock, Xander knew, in theory, how to put on a bow tie, but he was happy to let Willow do it. Standing in front of him, she looked at him with nostalgia in her tawny brown eyes.

“What?” he asked.

With a sentimental smile, Willow cutely replied, “I was just- Remember the eighth-grade cotillion? You had that clip-on...”

Smiling at that old striped bow tie, Xander returned, “I was stylin’ with the clip-on.”

“And now here we are,” Willow tenderly added. “It’s our Homecoming.”

Considering how easy it was for the time braid to numb his experiences and emotions, Xander prayed it was his one and only Homecoming, voicing with levity and hope, “Face it, Will. You and I are gonna be in neighboring rest homes, and I’m going to stop by so you can adjust my eye patch.”

Quirking her brow at the odd choice of imagery, Willow asked, “Eye patch?”

“Better than readjusting my teeth,” Xander assured her with a smirk.

After a smiling shake of her copperhead, Willow finished tying his bow tie before returning to the privacy screen to try on her final dress. Xander had thought about the one future he was aware of—a world where he married Buffy’s little sister; where Spike seemed to be the best guy Buffy could manage; where Jenny, Kendra, and Joyce had died; a future where he never figures himself out and amounted to nothing. It was a depressingly disappointing timeline, however, if he could get out of the time braid, he had a chance to change things for the better. The raven-haired teen was putting on the tuxedo jacket as he thought about Buffy and how he wanted her to be the most meaningful part of his future.

‘But we need to go out on a date first!’ he mentally yelled. Eager to think of anything else, Xander asked Willow, “So, you and Oz. How can I put this… are we on first, second or, ye gods, that feels good?”

From behind the screen, she called out, “That is none of your business, Alexander Harris.”

Knowing her as long as he did, he could hear the blush on her cheeks. Nodding with an impressed smile, Xander reasoned, “Oh ho, rounding second, I see. Very nice.”

Her scoffing stutter before calling out in her nervous voice, “Y-You don’t know that,” made Xander think he was right on the money. “What about you?” she asked. “The way Faith’s been acting around you… boy, she seems hungry. She’s coming tonight, right?”

“She is, but I bet Dreadnought’s the only one in her leather-clad heart,” Xander answered, feeling down because of the promise he made with Buffy. Though he didn’t want to, he ultimately agreed when the blonde slayer wanted to hold off on telling their friends. Buffy said they should know what they have before telling anyone else. Slightly disappointed, Xander told Willow, “If I’m dancing with someone, it’s going to be because she wants me as much as I want her.”

“Good for you,” Willow voiced before walking from behind the screen, and Xander’s jaw dropped. His beautiful redheaded friend wore a black A-Line sleeveless scoop long dress with appliques. The floor-length, black lace & tulle dress highlighted her womanly silhouette perfectly, and when she slowly turned in place, he was surprised by her daring deep V-back style. Willow was stunning.

“I know, ‘beautiful,’ right,” she lamely assumed.

“I was gonna go with gorgeous,” a stunned Xander genuinely assured.

She blushed and smiled before joking, “I don’t know if I can dance in this.”

He happily returned her smile and extended his hand before saying, “Piece of cake.” Touched, Willow took his hand and the best friends stood close as they danced in place. Though there was no music, neither of the best friends cared.

Throwing away the trash, Xander recalled their dance as the best part of the night. He was looking forward to dancing with Buffy at Homecoming, however, she only made it by the end of the dance. The blonde slayer wore a floor-length, blood-orange sheath satin spaghetti straps dress. Her silky blonde hair was done up, and she looked gorgeous, however, she also appeared to have been in a hard fight. One of her straps broke, her dress was covered in dirt, and her hair had leaves and twigs in it.

Xander learned after the fact that Buffy and Cordelia were kidnapped and hunted by a group of assassins. It was supposed to be Faith alongside Buffy in what was dubbed SlayerFest 98, however, unbeknownst to the assassins, the other Scoobies set Cordelia and Buffy up to be alone in the limo driving them to Homecoming because they’ve been fighting each other incessantly. Buffy and Cordelia both wanted to be crowned Homecoming Queen, and the others couldn’t take their fighting any longer, thus they tricked the pair into arriving at the famous dance together. Though Xander lamented another missed opportunity to help, he focused on Buffy and Cordelia’s newfound respect for one another.

Moving from his now clean living room, the frustrated Xander entered Faith’s bathroom, thinking, ‘I don’t care that our dates keep getting interrupted.’ Then he noted the dried, purple wax running down from the sink to the floor, and mentally asked, ‘What were you doing with a candle? And dripping wax everywhere?’ Knowing Faith, the only answer coming to his head made him think, ‘This better not be some kind of sex kink?’

Ignoring the fantasy building, Xander got to work cleaning, thinking of Buffy again; of how much he simply wanted to spend alone time with her. They didn’t need to be on a date, he realized. A few nights ago, they could’ve fought the baby-eating Lurconis snake demon together, and he would’ve enjoyed it as much as any date.

A few nights ago, Ethan Rayne had returned to Sunnydale, and like the Janus curse the previous year, he cursed candy that reverted all adults who ate it into irresponsible & rebellious teenagers. With another date ruined, Xander, Buffy, and Faith had to babysit the drugged Giles & Joyce. The teenagers were focused on keeping the adults and babies alive, and Buffy was extra motivated on keeping Giles and her mother from getting hot & heavy in a dark room.

Fortunately, Xander was able to walk her home last night. The November night was cool, and though he didn’t get to hold her hand, he lent her his coat and offered his elbow as they walked. Under the bright moon above, they talked as casually as they usually do. He coaxed a few laughs from her, which sounded sweet in his ears, and at her door, they set a new date for their date. She thanked him for walking her home and he waved her off before the moment he was waiting for finally happened. Buffy paused by the door and played with her keys. Xander immediately knew it was a signal, and gently, he leaned in for a kiss.

Nervous, Buffy gave him a quick peck on the lips before rushing inside, leaving Xander standing there in evident confusion. The Casanova mental pattern within told him she was nervous about crossing that line, which was reasonable, however, Xander couldn’t deny he felt a bit rejected. Though he was still thrilled to have gotten a proper romantic walk that ended with her lips on his, it wasn’t quite as magical as he wanted it to be. Frustration kept him from sleeping last night, and he was in the forge working on the seventh iteration of Odin’s ring.

Xander dumped the scrubber in the caddy and rushed back to the calendar in the kitchen. He stared at the circled 19th of November and was praying they could finally do more than they’ve done thus far. Buffy said she was willing to try, however, there hasn’t been as much progress as he had hoped and he wanted to change that desperately. Staring at the circled date, Xander was certain that would be the night to use everything he learned to impress her unlike ever before.

Later that night, Xander, Willow, and Cordelia were at the Bronze listening to a live performance. It was a slow rock song and Oz was on the bass guitar. The entire crowd in the low-lit room was absorbed in the hypnotic music and swayed with the slow beat rhythm. When they finished their set, applause & hollering erupted in the room, and three of the four band members bowed and waved to their adoring fans. Oz was the only one who set his guitar down, hopped offstage, passed a gaggle of wide-eyed groupies, and joined Willow.

“Oz!” Willow happily called out, kissing him on the cheek before hugging him. The eager redhead pulled back to bring him over to their table. As there were no seats, Willow lamented, “I’d offer you a seat but…”

“This place is packed,” Cordelia voiced, looking around the room. The club had very little room to move around in, compelling her to add, “Can I just say, I liked this place before it got popular?”

Xander turned to her and jokingly replied, “You can, you have, and you will in our future, I’m sure.”

Xander looked around the packed room for what felt like the tenth time, prompting Willow to ask, “Looking for Faith?”

Curious why Willow enjoyed bringing up the wild slayer, he told her with a half-smile, “No. Buffy.”

Willow nodded before asking the group, “Speaking of people and things they do that are not like usual, anyone notice Buffy acting different?”

“Let’s see,” Xander began, counting off with fingers. “Killing an invisible, child-eating monster; breaking the neck of the student-turned-crazed Dr. Hyde-esque monster; torching a baby-eating sewer monster; freeing the enslaved adults of Sunnydale from doped candy… nope. She’s pretty much the same old Buffster.”

Shaking her head, Willow specified, “Maybe, but it feels like it’s more than that. She always has a different bruise or cut on her face. And, yeah, I know they heal fast, but still. Plus, I don’t see her as much, and when I do, she’s off, like, by a lot; Distracted.”

Looking at Xander, Cordelia voiced, “Maybe she’s got a new honey?”

“A boyfriend?” Willow repeated with concern. “Doesn’t explain the bruising. Though, I guess the slaying with Faith explains the bruising. But why wouldn’t she tell us she’s seeing someone?”

Shrugging, Cordelia remarked, “She’s been weird since summer. For a whole year, she couldn’t be with Angel for fear he’d turn into a homicidal maniac with fantastic bone structure. Then he hooks up with Gothic Lolita and turns into a psycho murderer, anyway. Now he’s probably killing a bunch of people cuz she can’t kill him herself. That kind of Shakespeare drama makes a girl different.” Eying Xander out of the corner of her eye, Cordelia added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was getting wild with someone who could handle her.”

Wishing that was the case, Xander cleared his throat before taking a sip of his soda. Willow shook her head in disagreement before telling Cordelia, “Buffy wouldn’t do that. And if that were the case, she’d tell us.”

From behind them, they heard a familiar voice ask, “Tell you what?”

The four turned, in perfect sync, to the blonde slayer behind them. Dressed in a pink spaghetti strap top and earthy-brown pants, Buffy looked at them expectantly; though innocently, as if she only wanted to know what they were talking about.

“About your new boyfriend,” Cordelia bluntly answered.

Nervous, Willow hastily added, “Who we made up. Unless we didn’t?”

Taken aback, Buffy asked her friends, “This was a topic of discussion?”

“Raised, never discussed,” Oz casually pointed out.

Closely eying the blonde slayer, Cordelia leaned in a bit and asked, “So? Are you with somebody or not?”

Buffy looked at each of them, landing on Xander’s expectant brown eyes last. A small smile spread across her pink lips before she diplomatically replied, “Well, I wouldn’t use the word ‘dating.’ But I am… going out with somebody. Tonight.”

Xander felt his heart explode in pure bliss and his body vibrated in gooey warmth. Cordelia turned her head away in deep thought as Xander held in his glee. Willow, however, couldn’t contain her zeal and demanded to know, “Really? Who?”

Xander was ready to come clean and announce the truth to their friends when Faith showed up, slinging a tired arm around Buffy and Xander’s neck. Leaning against them, the brunette slayer seemed like she just woke up and grunted to the group, “Hey.” She turned to Buffy and asked, “Ready?”

Turning to Willow, Buffy smiled as she slung her own arm around Faith’s shoulder and jested, “Really, we’re just good friends.”

When Buffy and Faith left to patrol, Xander didn’t have the will to go with them. He seriously thought Buffy would confess that they were dating. He felt like a good opportunity to be open with their feelings for each other was just snatched away. Xander felt defeated and unwanted, however, a small voice inside him argued, ‘Relax, she was just joking about that last part. She already told you she would be patrolling with Faith and Giles for an evaluation or whatever. She’s still ‘dating’ you.’

Another voice inside of him argued back, ‘If this could even be called dating!’

The other side of him argued back, ‘She kissed me, though!’

‘It was a fucking peck on the lips!’ the other side of him yelled. ‘Dogs do the same thing! And they use tongue!’

Frustrated, Xander got up and left for the forge. He was nearly done with a new Odin’s ring that housed all the runes he wanted. The only thing he was looking forward to was how bright the ring would illuminate after he voiced the incantation. He’d been getting better with each iteration and the magic that entered the construct felt stronger with each attempt. He made a mental note to talk to Giles about disposing the extras.

The following day, Xander learned about Faith’s new watcher, Gwendolyn Post. He had walked into the library to meet up with Giles, only to find Buffy telling Willow all about the blonde Englishwoman. Xander took a seat, playing catch up with yet more events he’s missed. At the mention of Gwendolyn Post, he tried to recall the name from his Old Man memories as Willow asked for more details about the threat they were facing next.

“Apparently, it’s a demon called Lagos; coming to a Hellmouth near you,” Buffy presented, like a movie trailer voice. “It’s after an all-powerful thingamabob called the Glove of Myhnegon. And lucky me, I get to stop him before unholy havoc’s unleashed, and another Friday night in Sunnydale is ruined.”

“Don’t these damn monsters have any consideration for weekends?” Xander heatedly asked, already feeling the potential for another postponed date.

“I know!” Buffy fervently agreed with him.

“Giles?” Willow asked.

Buffy answered, “There aren’t any records of this glove’s full power, so Giles is in full research mode.”

Turning to Xander, Willow noted, “I expect we’ll be having a lot of late nights researching this Lagos.”

Xander turned to Buffy, the pain of delay evident in his face. Buffy simply winced and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’ Xander sunk into his chair as the slayer added her own section of misery. “At least she doesn’t have you out there running through all twelve cemeteries in the hopes we find the right one that glove of power is in.”

Instead of going on his very first official date with Buffy, Xander was in the library with Willow and Giles pouring over stacks of old books. While Faith and Buffy were searching cemeteries, they were looking through almanacs, indexes, paranormal encyclopedias, labyrinth maps, and everything in between. Xander was reading through Kane’s Twilight Compendium when he dozed off. He jumped right back up when Giles slammed his book on the table.

“There’s not a word about Lagos or the Glove here,” the Englishman said, in growing irritation. Looking around all the books on the long wood table, Giles told his young researchers, “We don’t have time for this near-missing. Find all you can about the demon itself: His strengths, weaknesses, place of origin, and most importantly, how he plans to use the glove.”

“Hey, you’re not the Watcher of me,” Xander sarcastically joked.

“Then go home,” Giles sternly clapped back. The watcher was taking this just as seriously as when he was dealing with Ethan; uncharacteristically mean. The frustrated Englishman finished stating, “But if you choose to stay, work.”

Giles returned to his office for more books as Willow rested her head on the large tome in front of her, groaning, “Ugh. It’s late, I’m tired… what does he want from us, anyway?”

“The number of a qualified surgeon who can remove the British flag up his butt,” Xander casually answered.

“My eyes are so blurry,” Willow groaned, and Xander thought to give her one of his weaker rings in his bag. He would be just as tired as Willow if not for his practiced use of Odin’s ring. All Xander needed to do was think about a need that his body could fulfill, then, through the ring’s magic, his body would somehow generate the power to meet that need. He thought of how he needed to have more energy to stay awake, and though his body felt warmer, he was no longer sleepy.

Sadly, when he tried to coat his bones in adamantium, the ring of power couldn’t satisfy that request. When he tried to fly, shoot lasers out of his eyes, or bust out Kamehamehas, this iteration of Odin’s ring couldn’t grant him those nerd-gasmic abilities. Xander’s theory for this limitation was one of two possibilities. Either the ring wasn’t powerful enough, or the rune for Need only referred to the capabilities within his body’s cells, like the way the ring only enhanced Odin’s natural powers.

The rune patterned, retro steel ring on his finger, etched with the interlacing dragons, enhanced Xander’s natural ability as well. He could bench three hundred and fifteen pounds with his new ring, and it healed the muscular aches in mere minutes; He could run faster, see farther, hear better, and clear any facial acne in seconds. The confidence that he could survive the day—no matter what he faced—gave Xander a sense of accomplishment despite his many failures, and the deaths they led to.

A book loudly clapped closed behind them, startling the teens as Giles rushed back to the table, saying, “Willow. Xander. You may stop your search. I have what I need.”

“Which is?” both of the teens asked as the watcher looked over an old almanac.

“A likely location of the Glove of Myhnegon,” Giles answered. He tapped the page sternly before voicing, “Housed here, in the Von Hauptman family crypt.”

Uncomfortably familiar with their town’s many cemeteries, Xander remarked, “The big one in Restfield?”

“Precisely,” Giles confirmed.

“Where’s Buffy now?” Willow asked.

A curious look crossed Giles’ face before he slowly answered, “I’m not sure. But she must know.”

Eager to leave, Xander stood and volunteered to be the messenger, saying, “I could stake out the crypt; give her a heads up if she shows…”

Nodding several times, Giles stated, “Yes, by all means, go.”

With a nod, Xander stood and grabbed his bag. Though he didn’t have Dreadnought with him, he had Odin’s Ring on. With his combat ability, his Viking seax knife in his bag, and his ring, Xander didn’t think he needed his beloved battleaxe. Using his ring’s ability to draw an abundant supply of energy out of his body, Xander ran through the streets of Sunnydale like he always imagined Captain America would. The idea that he was like a super-soldier with his ring on, nearly keeping up with cars in residential areas, put a broad grin on his face.

Despite knowing the physical toll it’d take on his body later, his eager mind voiced, ‘Let’s see how far I can push it.’ Then he ran even faster.

Cutting through a wooded area, Xander happened to spot a glint of moonlight bouncing off a blonde head of hair. He stopped running, sliding on the moist grass for several meters before stopping, then magically focused his eyes on the mystery person heavily obscured by many trees. It was only in view for a second before disappearing behind a thick patch of forest, but Xander felt nearly certain that shade of blonde was Buffy’s. He guessed she was a quarter-mile away and started running through the wooded area toward the blonde.

It wasn’t long before he reached the same dark wilderness he spotted her. Scanning the area, he couldn’t see her through the thicket of dark trees, but kept on running. Using Odin’s ring, Xander tried to enhance his sense of smell, thinking if Wolverine could track targets like that, then he saw no reason he couldn’t either. Only, Xander hadn’t ever practiced such a skill before and when he thought of his great need to increase his sense of smell, the result was painfully unforgiving.

A mile’s worth of strong forest aromas hit Xander’s nose like a baseball bat to the face; Damp moss, pungent algae, wet tree trunks, flowers, smelly animals, rotting animals, insects, leaf litter, and the worst, everything mixed terribly with animal scent markings like urine and feces. Immediately coughing hard, his head short-circuited through the olfactory nerves in his nose, making him lose his footing mid-run and hit the forest floor. Fortunately, he knew how to fall properly, and he rolled several times on the forest floor, avoiding all tree trunks, before sliding to a stop.

Xander rolled on his back, panting. His nose was on fire and his face felt swollen as he concentrated on returning his sense of smell to normal and healing all of his injuries. When the pain finally subsided, the inexperienced magic-user opened his tear-filled eyes to the moonlit starry night above the towering pitch-black trees, then gasped, “Fucking A, Logan. That was no joke.”

He ignored the stinging pain and congestion on his face, his loss of smell, and his headache to lightly jog while his Odin’s ring amped up his healing. The magical silver on his index finger wasn’t as powerful as Dreadnought, however, the ring healed him well enough while he wandered through the thick forest. Fortunately, Xander knew his town like the back of his hand, and how to navigate using the stars above. After another five minutes of trekking, he didn’t find who he assumed was Buffy, but he came across a familiar apartment complex.

Xander was embarrassed it took him a second to recall the rear access to where Angel used to live. At the eerie sight of the black two-story building under the pale moonlight, Xander’s heart was pounding in his chest, racing harder than when he was running. Combining the girl who he now hoped wasn’t Buffy with this location and no one knowing why, didn’t make him feel good.

Unsure if the blonde girl came this way or just traveled past it, Xander inspected all around the small complex, searching the quiet building as much as he could from the outside. From what he could see, there weren’t more than two floors, six rooms on each floor, and most of the windows were pitch black. Xander assumed it was one of the safest places a vampire could live in.

Nervously, Xander walked inside the brick and steel lobby, looking more like a factory than the small reception area of an apartment complex. Scanning the empty reception desk, nothing stood out to him, however, looking down the dark corridor leading to the rooms, he only grew more nervous. Shaking his head of worrying thoughts, Xander was ready to give up when he heard a dull crash, then a slam. The muffled noise sounded like a fight in the farthest door down the hall of the first floor.

Xander rushed to the door with the most sound coming through it. Pressing his ear to the cold black wood, he definitely heard two bodies in a physical altercation and a grunt that sounded like Buffy’s. Without a second’s hesitation, a fired-up Xander kicked the door open and rushed in to find Buffy and Spike, on the carpeted floor, half-naked and removing their tongues from the other’s mouths.

As Spike removed his hand from inside her unzipped pants before rushing to cover up their partial nudity, Xander’s stomach twisted and knotted. A flustered Buffy was in her bra and couldn’t cover up her torso too much since the buttons of her blouse seemed ripped off, making Xander stand deathly still. At the sight of their bloody noses, red knuckles, and her lipstick on his mouth, Xander’s lungs stopped breathing. Imagining what they were doing, his whole body felt weak, brittle, so near to shattering.

“Xander… Wait, okay?” Buffy started as she tied the tails of her blouse together, while Spike zipped up his slacks. “Just, wait. Just… This isn’t what it looks like,” a frantically uneasy Buffy tried, rubbing the blood from her nose, but only smearing it. Spike preferred to lean silently against the wall on the other end of the room, eying them as if expecting a boring drama to ensue.

At Buffy’s panicked & worried greenish-blue eyes, and her desperate words—like she knew how terribly she fractured their relationship—a corrosive feeling began bubbling in Xander’s weak heart. That acidic despair pumped through his veins as he heard Cordelia’s words of warning clearly in his ears.

‘She’ll never love you.’

A loud CRACK—like thick glass snapping in half under immense pressure—reverberated through his sickly body. It wasn’t a sound that Xander could physically hear. He felt it in his core, and his eyes reddened with heat. Here she was, the girl he loved more than anyone—who was literally underneath the worst guy imaginable—was now trying to tell him his eyes were wrong. As Buffy tried to communicate meaningless words to him, Xander felt the good person he’d always tried to be slipping away.

“This isn’t what you think it is, okay?” she pleaded, smeared lipstick still around her mouth. Her nose had a bit of blood around the nostril and there was a fresh red bruise on her left cheek, like she’d been punched. Judging by the turned-over furniture, broken glass, and dents on the drywall, it was clear they were fighting, but also doing more. “I don’t love him,” Buffy proclaimed. “It’s nothing like that.”

The breaking Xander wanted to yell how ludicrous that sounded, but couldn’t speak through the hot, softball-sized lump lodged painfully in his throat. Instead, his red-hot eyes gradually glared sinisterly at her, hoping she could understand through the viciousness of his expression how disturbingly pathetic that sounded. She winced at the wounded anger plastered on his face, then he looked away.

It felt like there was another side of him trying to stop whatever was slowly shattering inside of him, forcing Xander to pace. He tried to alleviate his severe agitation, however, he could only feel himself get angrier and angrier. Images of a half-naked Buffy underneath a shirtless Spike, uncoupling their mouths to look at him barging in, kept repeating in his head, as if making fun of him for daring to love a girl out of his league. Xander didn’t just feel rejected. He felt like the greatest fool in the world.

Buffy moved along with him, trying to talk face to face, conveying through a pained expression, “I’ve just been so- so-” She wiped the tears building around her red-rimmed eyes before saying, “The way it went down with Angel… it felt like I died. I was just so tired of feeling sad and, and powerless all the time. I needed to feel more than that. Anything more than that! Or I was going to break! That’s it. That’s all this is! I just wanted to keep from falling apart.”

Within himself, Xander returned to that line he felt when Kendra betrayed him; the time she prevented him from getting past the month-loop. He had raged against the world for what felt like years after that, however, he never truly crossed the line. He never wanted to embrace the darkness he had always tried to avoid. The darkness he always saw in his parents.

Xander was only ever on the very edge of that line, overlooking the dark and heartless image of himself just past it. That mirror image of himself had skin as pale as milk, inky black eyes with glowing white pupils, and deathly white hair. The thing felt cold, uncaring to friend or foe alike, with a great potential for evil. It felt like death to see himself just on the other side of the line, or worse yet, a vampire. But at the moment, Xander felt comforted by the beastly presence.

The heartbroken teen knew what his darker half promised. The allure of taking away his pain, self-hatred, and depression was far too liberating to resist. Crossing the line promised his heart would never be cuckolded and torn apart ever again; by Buffy or anyone. And the more Buffy tried to explain herself, the more Xander accepted the dead deal.

“Xander… please say something,” Buffy pleaded.

But he didn’t. Instead, he felt warm tears he didn’t know were falling down his face; so warm they felt like blood. Tapping his face with his fingertips in surprise, he thought, ‘Of course, I’d cry.’ He knew his father would be laughing at him again. Buffy Summers was the one love he wanted most in life, no matter the repetition, and she rejected him for another vampire, again; A villainous, arrogant, murderous vampire, no less. It reminded him of the pain Old Man Xander felt when he learned his Buffy was fucking a homicidal stalker…

Only this time was even worse than his counterpart.

Xander slowly faced Buffy, and his voice was deeply strained, dark, and filled with restrained fury when he snarled, “He… killed my parents.”

Buffy couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. Shame compelled her to avoid the painful intensity of his crying glare, and she admitted, “I… I know-”

“He killed Jenny!” Xander yelled with more strength. The farther past the dead line the heartbroken boy went, the more the dark doppelgänger inside consumed him, and the stronger, more insulted from hurt, Xander felt. “He tried to kill you when you were possessed! If I wasn’t there, he would’ve!”

“I know!” she exclaimed, finally looking at him in the crying, rage-filled eyes. “Xander, I know. It- It doesn’t make any sense! It disgusts me-”

“DOES IT?!!” he screamed with powerful bass reverberating through the room.

Buffy stepped back at the sheer vitriol in his voice and the crazed look in his feral eyes. Spike actually straightened as if standing by in case she needed him, but even that made the animalistic Xander glare at the vampire with murderous rage. Buffy extended her palm to Spike, telling him not to intervene and the vampire slowly backed down, as if he was her soldier. The non-verbal communication between them only enraged Xander more, and he walked directly toward Spike’s calm demeanor.

Glaring at the vampire, the broken Xander madly asked, “You want to do something, Spike? Hmm? You defending her? That it?” Buffy tried to move in Xander’s way, but he went around her to yell, “Don’t let her stop you, Spike! Go ahead! Do something!” In Spike’s calm face, the irate Xander yelled, “Give me a fucking reason!”

“Xander, stop-” She tried pulling him away, but the ruined teen threw his arms up at her touch and backed away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” She backed away, raising her hands in peace. He had to ask, “Why, Buffy?! How could you?! YOU! One fucking vampire wasn’t enough? You had to bend over for the one that murdered my parents?!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Buffy remained silent and Xander simply let it all out, accepting the dead deal with the monster within. Moving to tower over her, he demanded to know, “Do I have to be dead? Is that the only way you’ll give me a chance?”

“Fucking hell,” Spike finally spoke in frustrated realization. To Buffy, he asked, “The poor sod’s in love with you?”

Easily provoked, the seething Xander pointed a stern finger at the cavalier vampire and threatened, “You say one more word… one more, and I’m going to lose it!”

Buffy moved in front of Xander to keep his focus on her. Her eyes and nose were red as the miserable girl tried to explain, “It’s not that I don’t love you or that I can’t love you. It’s…”

“It’s what, Buffy?” he fiercely demanded. “That I’m too human? Is that it? My blood’s too warm for you? Am I too weak with my regular human muscles?! Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t murdered anyone yet! Should I go on a killing spree for you? Would that excite you enough to look my way?”

Without looking at him, Buffy softly voiced, “That’s not fair.”

At her delusional reply, a flash of memories of all of his time in the time braid made his eye twitch painfully. Throwing his arms up like the grand arrival of God, Xander yelled at the top of his lungs, “ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THIS IS FUCKING FAIR!” He had to take a second to breathe or risk passing out. “But I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re so fucked up!”

“Easy now, mate,” Spike spoke up.

Glaring at Spike, Xander reminded him, “I’m pretty sure I told you to shut the fuck up.”

The blond vampire actually smirked, displaying open palms in peace as he voiced, “Listen, mate. She won’t tell you the God’s honest truth. Slayer or not, girls are like that. So, I will.”

“Spike!” Buffy yelled, but the suave vampire ignored her.

He walked up to Xander and shared, “It’s as simple as this: You—nice as you are—just don’t do it for her. There it is. The simple truth.” Spike moved closer to the heartbroken boy, turning to a distraught Buffy as he asserted, “She’s a slayer, mate. She needs fire, chaos, anything that’ll get her motor running. And I do mean anything.”

Turning to Xander again, Spike moved in to truly articulate, “She wants that more than a good & boring bloke, even if it’s from a right bastard like me. Bird like her needs to be slapped, punched, choked a bit. Gets her going! The first night my tongue was down her throat and my hand in her pants, only happened after we tried to beat the bloody piss out of each other. Show her that kind of darkness—like you’re willing to kill her, or kill for her—and I give you my word you’ll have her knickers round her ankles in no time.”

Silence descended, and Buffy was the only one nervous, until she wasn’t. Wide-eyed with homicidal rage, Xander extended his hand out in desperate need of his murder weapon. Spike and Buffy knew what that meant and Buffy was quick to push Spike away and get in front of her best friend to plead with him, “Xander, don’t! Everything he said is bullshit! I swear to you it’s not true!”

“That why you come here twice a week-”

“Shut up!” a furious Buffy yelled at the vampire before softening and turning to her enraged best friend. Veins were popping on Xander’s forehead and his flexed, extended arm was shaking as she begged, “Just, listen to me! I know I don’t deserve it right now—I know that—but please, please, please trust me when I say you’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt!”

“BUT YOU DID!!” he screamed, inches from her face, making her brace a bit. “WORSE THAN ANYONE!”

Eying his taut fingers calling for his weapon, Buffy begged, “Xander, don’t do this.” She tried to pull his arm down, but he recoiled from her touch, making the slayer implore, “Please, don’t make me…”

Narrowing his feral eyes on her, he demanded, “Don’t make you do what, Buffy?” She was terribly quiet, almost unsure of how to respond. He filled her speechlessness in by yelling, “Kill me defending your murderer lover? At this point… I’m done. I’m beyond caring.”

And Xander truly felt, deep inside, the dead deal struck was complete.

“Don’t do it, mate,” a stern Spike warned.

“Xander, please stop-” The two with their enhanced hearing, detected distant cracking and crushing of tree trunks against a speeding mass of heavy, sharpened steel. Buffy pleaded with him, “Why can’t you just be my best friend?”

Xander gave her the most villainous eye of disbelief before measuredly assuring her, “Even a friend wouldn’t have fucked the bastard that killed my parents.”

“We never had sex-”

“Don’t ever call me a friend again,” Xander angrily interrupted. Several walls filled with wood frames, wiring, and insulation were destroyed by a speeding mass of sharp metal, creating a trail of dusty debris until the missile that was his spinning axe snapped firmly into his grasp. Dust trailing the battleaxe settled around the enraged teen before he eerily told Buffy, “The Xander you knew is dead. And you killed him.”

Promptly, Xander swung the butt of the axe like a golf club, hitting the dining table toward Spike, and splintering off a few strips of the cheap wood. The blond vampire dodged the spinning table, rolling toward the only other exit in the one-bedroom apartment; the blacked-out sliding door that led to the veranda.

“Xander! Please, stop!” Buffy desperately called, allowing Spike to make his escape.

With two strong strides, Spike covered his face with his arms before jumping through the black window. Xander threw Dreadnought at the leaping vampire, hoping to slice an arm clean off, however, Buffy caught his battleaxe mid-air. The momentum made her spin a bit, but she turned to him and begged with her eyes.

Though she may have been trying to stop him from killing a soul, all that mattered to Xander was that she was protecting Spike. She was protecting another vampire; one who she willingly gave her body to. Buffy was indirectly saying that an evil vampire was better than him, and he felt like a damned fool all over again. With rage coursing through him, Xander demanded power from his ring as his outstretched hand demanded Dreadnought back.

Holding onto the battleaxe with all her supernatural strength, Buffy leaned back as she tried her hardest to keep his weapon from flying to him. The carpet under her ripped rather than make her slide to him, aggravating him more. He only got angrier when five seconds passed and her strength seemed capable of withholding his weapon. That was five seconds Spike was using to get away, and Xander couldn’t allow that.

Xander stopped calling Dreadnought, forcing Buffy to fall back, then called his weapon again when he shook her leverage. Xander ran forward as he caught his weapon, then jumped through the hole of the window before chasing after Spike. Demanding far past fifty percent, Odin’s ring was building an inordinate amount of pressure throughout all of his muscle groups. His blood pressure was through the roof, straining his veins as his body generated as much power as humanly possible.

Buffy was right on his tail, but she couldn’t catch up to him as fast as the slayer normally would a regular human. Sprinting through the woods at what he could only guess was twenty-five miles per hour, Buffy was only slowly gaining on him. It was a testament to how impressive his Ring of Power was, however, alarms were going off in his body. At the sight of Spike’s gelled-back blond head, Xander ignored any potential injury and ran faster.

Calling forth a burst of power to his arms, Xander ignored the crackling noises to throw Dreadnought horizontally at the vampire. He hoped to cut him in half, however; the vampire was too good and ducked at the last minute. Spike rolled to the side as Xander called back his weapon. Dreadnought snapped into his reddening grasp before lunging knee first at the vampire. With his speed and power, Xander planted his knee into Spike’s sternum.

As the vampire’s back slammed against the tree behind him, Spike glared at the rage-filled boy, his vampire face in full display, and grunted with a hiss. As Xander was magically empowered, the playing field between a teenage human and a vampire was nearly leveled, allowing the experienced fighter to swing his axe at Spike’s stomach. The vampire shifted to the side, but couldn’t dodge all of the sharp blade and yelled when Xander cut a few inches into his side. The tree impeded the rest of the slice.

An angry Spike raised his arm to punch Xander, but at the sight of the teen, he held back. Even his face returned to his normal human look, pissing Xander off more. Who was he to go easy on him? To hold back, and try to take a moral high road when Spike destroyed his entire world. Calling for more out of his ring, the flushed teen’s body felt extremely hot, but strong enough to punch a hole through Spike’s head.

Xander let go of his axe handle and managed a single punch to Spike’s face before Buffy tackled him from behind. Xander and Buffy rolled on the ground as Spike spit a tooth out. Though Xander’s heart pumped dangerously fast to support every fiber of his overtaxed muscles, he had enough strength to shove Buffy off of him before getting up. Xander ran toward Spike to finish the job when Buffy got in front of him again.

“Xander, please stop!” she pleaded. As he demanded more from his artifacts, his skin became red and blood started leaking from his nose and eyes. “Xander, you’re killing yourself!”

Buffy kept her distance as Xander yelled with a monstrously deeper voice, “What the fuck do you care!”

Dreadnought snapped back into his right hand, and despite Buffy’s interference, he charged ahead. Buffy grabbed his middle and felt the full force of a slayer’s strength hold him in place. However, his arms were still free. Spike ran again and Xander threw his weapons again. The blond vampire grunted like a wounded lion as Dreadnought’s sharp edge sliced through his left forearm.

Buffy swiveled her head at the wounded sound, then rushed to Spike’s side, only adding gasoline to the fire burning within Xander. “That’sss right,” he coldly voiced in the chilly night air. Calling his weapon back, he called out, “Go to your new… vamp, fuckstick!”

Taking a few steps toward them, Xander suddenly felt a terrible snap from the very center of his brain, and his left vision went completely dark. From the bit of medical knowledge he remembered, Xander knew it was the long amount of raised blood pressure rupturing capillaries in his nose and eyes, and even some of the smaller veins in his brain. Xander dropped to one knee as his axe tried to heal all the internal damage he had inflicted on himself.

However, he didn’t care.

Xander still wanted to kill Spike. He demanded more from his ring and stood up, but he felt dizzy on his feet. Xander would’ve rested if not for Buffy lifting Spike, draping his arm around her neck, and trying to take him away. Tossing his well-being aside, Xander sprinted after them, then barreled into them, knocking all three to the floor.

Xander swung at Spike mid-roll and cut Spike’s pinky and ring finger off, making him grunt angrily, but it only made Xander hungrier for the rest of him. Spike’s vampire face appeared ready and eager to fight, but again, the turmoil within the vampire made him recoil from fighting back. Raising his axe for a final blow, Xander didn’t care. Spike’s soul can be his demise for all he cared for.

Buffy jumped in front of Xander mid-swing and yelled, “He saved Giles’ life! He saved Giles!” Xander hesitated, then paused as the crying slayer slowly explained, “Angel had already killed fourteen people… Fourteen lives, dead! Because I couldn’t stop him. The night we almost caught him, our plan backfired. Angel was about to kill Giles, and again… I couldn’t stop him. As much as I tried to end him, I just couldn’t!” Tears were streaming down her pleading face, and Xander only felt worse with every second. “Spike showed up and saved him,” she continued. Stepping forward, gazing into Xander’s bleeding eyes, she implored, “I know you hate him, and you have every reason to, but he’s not all bad now.”

It only hurt what remained of Xander’s heart to hear her excuse. That or his ring’s magic really was killing him. His heart was beating life-threateningly fast, and erratically as he leaned closer to say in his grave voice, “You defending him… after everything he’s done… can only mean… when it comes right down to it… Jenny… my parents… innocent lives… previous slayers… me… we all mean nothing… to you.”

The blood freely flowing from his nostrils, Buffy yelled at him. “Xander, please stop! Let me take you to the hospital!”

“You’re sick, Buffy… A liar… and I… hate you now,” he heaved, and that made her pause. His remaining vision was blurring, but he assured her, “But worse than that… I hate myself… for ever feeling… anything for you.”

Xander threw Dreadnought away, losing the healing acceleration, and instantly feeling worse again. When he tossed Odin’s ring away, the pain his magical artifacts were holding back suddenly doubled. He staggered away, walking through the forest with blood dripping from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

Buffy tried to help him as he struggled to walk on the uneven and root-invested forest floor. He kept tripping and falling—hitting his head or spraining his wrist—and when Buffy tried to help, Xander pushed himself off of her, yelling, “Don’t touch me!” Losing his balance, the exhausted teen dropped to his knee as he bellowed, “I said... don’t...”

Thanks to his SEAL training, a crippled Xander struggled on for miles without quitting, all the while Buffy stayed close. He was certain there were too many ruptured blood vessels to fix, and without the magic to help him heal, he felt closer and closer to the end. When he finally dropped flat to the ground and couldn’t get back up, Buffy picked him up and put him on her shoulder before running to get him to medical attention.

“No,” he weakly whined. “Don’t… touch… me… you… fucking monster!”

Xander extended his worn hand. Buildings, cars, mailboxes, trees, gates, and anything in the way of Dreadnought’s path was destroyed as it made its way to its master’s grip. Instantly feeling its healing effects, Xander swung the axe and hit Buffy’s leg with the wood handle, tripping them both. They fell on the manicured front lawn of a residential house with a large tree. With long-limbed branches, the tree was devoid of leaves and burnt black, as if burned, and it felt like Xander’s tombstone for some reason.

‘I’m dead,’ Xander somberly thought. He remembered Whistler saying, ‘In the end, we’re always by ourselves. You are all you’ve got. That’s the point of it all.’

Xander now knew that to be true. His parents, Willow, Cordelia, and Buffy; no matter their fundamental importance in his life, in the end, he couldn’t rely on anyone but himself. He thought it was the perfect time to test something he needed the body of a God for.

“You know… I never… tried… calling… lightning,” he softly croaked.

Having the same runes as Mjölnir didn’t mean he had the same powers as Thor. The Norse legend was the God of Lightning, and there was nothing in the rune array within Mjölnir about lightning. Xander hadn’t wanted to test it out in case he didn’t survive and was forced to loop back. He had no such qualms anymore. With his shaky arm, Xander raised his battleaxe to the sky and tried to summon lightning the way he summoned his weapon.

When nothing came forth from the night sky above, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He threw his axe to the side and let his body suffer the consequences of pumping out far more physical exertion than any human body could handle. Like building so much tension in every muscle and performing far more intensely than normally possible.

Buffy sat next to him, eying him with unparalleled sadness. She sniffed before voicing, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He chuckled through the pain, spitting blood from his blood-stained mouth onto his cheeks and neck before whispering, “Like that… fucking matters. Almost prefer… you did. The fact that… you think… you’re my friend… but did that with him… only shows… how broken you are… and how stupid I am… for never seeing it.”

“Xander,” the tearful Buffy pleaded in restrained anguish. “Please, please, please let me take you to the hospital. You could die!”

“No,” he whispered. “Just… leave. Go back… to your vampire fucktoy. We both know… it’s the only thing… you care about.”

“It’s not! It’s not!” she yelled, shaking his heavy body. “Stop saying those awful things!”

“Fuck… Off,” he said as sternly as his weakening body could.

For several long seconds, Buffy didn’t move, then nodded, making droplets of tears fall on him. She wiped her eyes of unending tears, got up, then left his limited sight, sadly voicing, “I’m sorry.”

Xander struggled to get up, but eventually did, and proceeded to walk miles, ignoring pedestrians trying to help while dripping blood all the way to Cordelia’s house. When she answered the door, the shocked girl found him bleeding out on her front porch.

“Oh my God! Xander!” she yelled, dropping to his side as she overlooked his bloody body.

Xander’s face was profusely sweaty and he had dark circles under his eyes. He coughed up blood as he responded, “L-Looks like you- you w-were right, Cor. She… She d-doesn’t love me.”

Fear gripped the stunned Cordelia, and her brown eyes panicked as she voiced, “I- I-I’m going to call-”

“No,” Xander voiced, weakly holding her hand. “No. It’s… too late. Irregular… heartbeat. Arrhythmia. Got minutes… at most.”

“We have to try, you idiot!” she yelled, doing her own thing, as she always did. Cordelia ran inside to call the ambulance, then came right back out, taking the decimated boy in her arms and holding him close.

Xander couldn’t even feel her warmth, but imagined it was there as he softly said, “Tell Will… I love her.”

“Just shut up!” she yelled, holding him close, trying not to let the tears out as she rubbed his face and hair. “Save your strength!”

Losing more and more feeling to his body, a nearly comatose Xander managed, “If I don’t loop… tell Buffy… she’s dead… to me.”

“Xander, please, save your strength! The ambulance is on its way,” Cordelia pleaded, letting the tears flow. “Where’s Dreadnought! Why aren’t you holding it!”

“I hurt you… before, Cor,” he weakly confessed. “I always… end up… hurting you.”

“You’re not,” her waving voice desperately assured him. “You don’t.”

As his remaining vision began to darken from the outer edges, Xander asked, “Can I… tell you… a story?”

“Tell me later,” she hotly returned. “Please, just save your strength! Xander, you have to save your strength!”

“I’m stuck… in a time loop… keep repeating… a day, a week, a month, a year,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But… because I’m so stupid… I pushed you away. I always end up… hurting you.”

“You idiot, you can’t hurt me! You could never,” she yelled at the dying boy in her arms, crying freely.

“I did. I did. Sorry, Cor. I’m… jus gonna rest… my eyes-”

“No! No! Xander! Don’t! Come on, keep talking to me. Tell me more about the time loop.”

“Sleepy…” Xander closed his eyes, but he heard faint sobbing. He then heard her yelling, but it felt farther and farther away.

“This is your fault! It’s always your fault! Get off my property, Buffy, or so help me…”

Xander woke up to his blaring alarm in his smelly bed. The date was October 31st, 1997.