-----
Sunnydale, California.
March 14, 1999
The
next day Buffy, Faith, Willow, Giles, Wesley and even Cordelia were
present as Xander woke up.
The
young man looked around in confusion, thinking it was 2003. “Cordy? Wes?
When did you guys come back to town?”
Then
he saw the brunette Slayer, and his eyes widened. “FAITH!!?”
Everyone was completely confused. “Xander, do you know who we are?”
Willow asked timidly.
“Of
course I-” Xander started to say. Then he looked around, “Hey, is this
the old library? How the hell-?”
“Xander, what’s the last thing you recall?” Giles asked carefully.
The
former soldier tried to remember. “We were fighting the First Evil...”
he said, not noticing the shock that came onto the faces of many of
those in the room. “Wait a minute, what’s the date?”
Buffy
told him.
The
one-time Zeppo’s eyes went wide again. “NO WAY!” And then the
conflicting memories started to seriously hurt him again.
The
others crowded around, only wanting to help – not knowing their presence
only made it worse. Xander screamed at them to go, to get out of his
sight; still, everyone hesitated.
“Get
out, get out, get out!” the young man shouted, in an amazing imitation
of Buffy’s future sister Dawn Summers.
Everyone except Wesley went out the door, as he was the only one Xander
hadn’t told to get lost. “Mr. Harris, may I ask why you didn’t ask me to
leave as well?” the Watcher questioned him in honest perplexity.
Xander
tried to focus, tried not to think about anything except what was
happening here and now. It was a simple trick, one he’d taught himself
during the years he’d spent in that hell dimension. “'Cause, you’re the
only one that’s not gonna drive me crazy here...”
Wesley
looked confused, as Xander tried to explain. “All the others, I
have...all these conflicting memories. From May last year till now, it’s
all just – it’s a real mess up here in my head, Wes. But not the stuff
about you; I’ve always thought you were a no-good limey ass...”
The
British man was insulted, but didn’t get a chance to reply as Xander
continued, “Plus there’s the fact I haven’t seen you since Graduation,
so...it’s kinda bearable. No future memories in the mix.”
“Graduation? Future memories...?” Wesley then finally got a clue. “Oh
my. All the days of your life...?” he muttered in amazement, as the
Watcher realized the situation.
Xander
chuckled darkly. “Yeah. As far as I’m concerned, it should be 2003 here.
Too bad Wills didn’t take into account I spent over four years in
Hell...she gave me back not only my past memories, but the, uh, ‘future’
ones too. Huh, always did have bad luck with spells and magic...”
The
Council operative looked at the young man. “How much do you remember?”
“Everything, including half a dozen upcoming apocalypses. Plus even the
stuff that’s changed from the original history; I remember Faith trying
to kill me for the fun of it, Willow trying to kill me to destroy the
world, Ahn-”
Just
as he said that, Xander abruptly remembered everything about the love of
his life – Anya. The woman that he’d once left at the altar, that had
been a vengeance demon – and now in this timeline (since he had never
betrayed Cordelia by fooling around with Willow) had not and would never
become human, and fall in love with him.
“This
is Hell,” Xander muttered desperately, more to himself than to his
companion. “Just getting through the next moment, and the one after
that...” he unconsciously echoed what Buffy Summers had been destined to
say, after her second resurrection from death.
“I
see...” Wesley got up, and quickly left the room.
Xander
looked around and said in resignation to the empty air, “You may as well
come out, Deadboy.”
Angel
slowly came out of the stacks. “How long have you known I was here?”
With a
supreme effort of will, Xander concentrated and managed to say, “Ever
since you came in through the sewer entrance. You heard everything?”
“Uh,
yeah,” the vampire said, nodding his head. “Especially that thing about
the First...” he shuddered, remembering that Christmas Day and how close
he’d come to killing himself.
~~~~~~
At
that moment the man supposedly in charge of the school, Principal H.R.
Snyder, came charging into the library – hunting for people loitering on
the grounds, during non-academic hours. He stared at Xander in
amazement, “Harris? Is that you?”
Xander
stared at the little troll, and realized he knew who the man was... <
Turncoat. Enemy sympathizer. Terminate with extreme prejudice, > the
ghost of Soldier Guy whispered in his mind.
Despite the pain, Xander automatically reached for his sidearm, but
Angel’s hand grabbed his and stopped him. Snyder got pissed, “You’re on
my campus with a gun, you little twerp?! If you were still a student
here, I’d have you expelled faster than...”
Angel
stepped forward and said coldly, “Get out.”
Snyder
was unimpressed. “And who the hell are you? I don’t take orders from-”
Angel
put on his game face. He growled and rasped, “Leave now or die! It’s
totally up to you.”
Snyder
raced out like his ass was on fire, bypassing the Scooby gang having a
hushed conversation in the corridor without a second glance.
Wesley
finished his explanations to everyone, about why Xander had acted the
way he did. “So there you have it,” the Englishman said slowly. “In my
opinion, we now have a potentially explosive situation on our hands. It
would be best if the young man were removed to England, for further
study...”
“You
try it and I’ll shove a stake up where the sun doesn’t shine, asshole,”
Faith snarled at him.
Willow
joined with a vehement, “Yeah!”
Wesley
looked at them carefully. “Did you two not a hear a word I said? That
isn’t your friend Xander Harris, in there. He’s an older version of
the man, who’s been through nine levels of hell and now has memories of
our future – a future where, apparently, both of you have tried to kill
him at some point.”
“I
don’t believe it,” Cordelia said suddenly. “Why would they do that?”
“He
didn’t say,” Wesley replied, typically deciding it would be best to keep
some things secret. “And given how much physical pain the young man
suffers whenever he tries to reconcile the conflicting memories of you
in his head, I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to inquire too
closely.”
Buffy
then started to laugh in a harsh, brutal way. “The road to Hell,” she
said eventually.
“What?” Giles finally spoke up.
“Don’t
you get it?” the blonde Slayer demanded. “We just wanted to make things
better, but now we’ve made it a million times worse. Just like the old
saying goes, ‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions’...”
Chapter 13