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DISCLAIMER: Nope, sorry to disappoint.
SUMMARY: Xander looks back at his past. S/X
TIMELINE: Far future.
NOTES: Written for Spikess at Spander132
REJUVENATED
by Leni
Alexander Harris looks out of the window pensively. The leaves are already yellow on the
trees, tomorrow they'll be falling softly to the floor, ready to make hell of his poor
back as he sweeps the backyard. Little things are all he's allowed to do now; he, who had
saved the world so many times, is confined to the restrictions of old age and failing
strength. How the mighty fall!
He chuckles, as if he'd ever been mighty. But there'd been a time... Xander sighs, trying
to dispel the memory, yet it's stronger today. There's no use fighting it, so he lets his
head rest against the cushion, remembers a time where he was the mightiest of all.
It had been after he mourned for Anya, years after Sunnydale was not even that minuscule
point in the map. He'd still been searching for Slayers, at the prime of his life, going
across the world and back finding the girls. In one of those travels he'd found an old
ally again, stumbling clumsily at the wonder of seeing him in the flesh again. Spike had
explained everything, the amulet, the months with Angel, the final fights, the deaths...
So many deaths. He was on his own again, Spike had said, and Xander had retorted that he'd
never heard of him going on his own. That had been true, Spike had always surrounded
himself with lovers or enemies, but never with his own thoughts. Xander had offered his
company, truly enthusiastic about the idea. The travels had lost their mystic long ago,
and he ached for company. Spike would be perfect, he didn't have to direct a Witches'
Coven, or a new Council, or to train dozens of Slayers. Spike was free to come and go at
his wish.
Miraculously, Spike wish was to agree with him.
They travelled together for years, and Xander grew used to the vampire's hours. When one
thing changed into another, he can't say. But one day he woke up as the sun set down and
suddenly the world was new again. With a weight in his heart Xander realised he couldn't
picture not sharing that nomadic life with his partner. Not out of need for quasi-human
company, but because he liked Spike at his side.
Denial had come next. Awkwardness and painful isolation. Xander couldn't believe it. He
was Xander, and he was Spike, and where had those thoughts come from? But they'd
obviously come to stay, making his life a hell of avoiding his now closest friend and
keeping his secret to himself.
Until the night Spike had dragged him to a Londoner tavern, dead leaves falling around
them, and pushed five different drinks into Xander's hands, staring unblinkingly until he
gulped them down. Then Spike had worked a confession out of him, promptly laughing when
Xander finally spilled it. "You were always the slowest Scooby, Xander," he'd
said with an amused shake of his head. "Bet I knew it before you did." Then he'd
stopped Xander's half-drunk protests with an openmouthed kiss.
Yes, thirty years later Xander still believes that was the most bizarre, yet best moment
of his life. Now the year has brought along autumn again, and there's only a week until he
can quietly celebrate that kiss's anniversary with a bottle of whiskey. It's not much, and
his nurse would have a fit if she knew. But she doesn't, and he intends to keep her in the
dark. The whiskey helps him to forget that he grew too weak to go into another battle, and
Spike was still too eager to fight them. And one day he just didn't come back.
Xander closes his eyes and remembers. On quiet afternoons like this, he likes to remember
the time before Willow came, alone, and told him the terrible news. When he opens his eyes
again, the decoration has changed, sparse and cheap. Spike stands at the door, making a
grand gesture at showing the house to a darkhaired man. The blonde points at the few
windows, the dark curtains he'd ordered and placed himself last night. The slightly older
man is grinning, his gestures animated as he talks with Spike. Suddenly he clutches
Spike's arm, shaking it until he turns around. Xander's younger version drops his head a
little, enough to steal a kiss. Then he grins again and continues the kiss.
Xander opens his eyes, this time for real, and is disappointed it was only a memory-dream.
But for an instant he is that young man again.
The End
21/12/04
Feedback
makes the saddest endings happier. ;-)
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