Fic: Memories of Yellow Crayons, Angel/Xander, Part of the Dark World, Prompt - Trump Card
Title: Memories of Yellow Crayons
Series: The Dark World
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Angel/Xander
Prompt: Trump Card
Rating: Mature/Adults Only overall
Spoilers: AU after The Becoming, BtVS Season Two
Warnings: Bloodplay, D/s themes, dark!fic overall
Word Count: 582
This is part of my series The Dark World which is a sequel to The Dark'Verse. You should really read those before this or it won't make much sense.
Thanks to seductivembrace for the banner under the cut!
Doomed to Repeat It
It was cool outside. It was the first time in eighteen years. Seasons here were so different and Xander often forgot that they actually happened. Most of the time the weather reminded him of Sunnydale - when he could actually remember his previous life at all. It had been so long that sometimes he believed it all to be a dream.
He'd forgotten how many years it actually was now. Angel would know - always knew - but Xander only knew it was more than one hundred. It was weird, knowing you were over a century old even though you still looked seventeen. Angel understood it, of course, had lived with it in their dimension, but Xander - Xander still found it odd.
Looking at himself in the crude mirrors hanging in their chambers, he reflected on how he looked exactly the same as he had when they landed here - all except for the long scar severing his left eyebrow and continuing down onto his cheek below. But he liked that scar. It was the only one his body would keep, caused by his own sword when it was stolen from his hand in battle. He was lucky to keep his eye at all even though he had worn an eyepatch for months until the delicate orb was able to function in the bright light of the twin suns again.
He looked the same but he was so different. He was not the boy who had come to this world, a broke toy of a sadistic vampire and friend of the Slayer. He was not the loyal sidekick and goofy comic relief. He'd long ago lost that mantle, left behind the Xander he once was, slowly transforming into the Warrior-god this world needed.
But sometimes he remembered. He remembered standing frozen in a playground watching as Willow and Jesse chased each other around playing freeze-tag. He remembered licking soft serve ice cream from Willow's nose and the joy of seeing Buffy return home from the long summer away. He remembered making Giles laugh at some stupid joke that he may not have totally understood, but smiling widely at the way the older man's blue eyes twinkled with mirth.
He remembered yellow crayons and the way a little redheaded girl smiled at him when he gave her his own, unbroken box full.
That was what he needed. That was his trump card. His heart. It was what made him different. It had been the one thing he had that had saved him and those around him more times than he could count. That's what saved his life at the hands of Angelus. That's what gave him the will to go on.
Angel didn't like the plan. Neither did his advisers but Xander didn't care. He knew what he needed to do - had known it all along if he was honest with himself. He was ready. It was time to end this feud, this war, once and for all. He was going to give himself over to The Others. He was going to replace their broken warrior with an unbreakable one.
He only wished he would get to see a beatific smile like he'd once seen on his broken Willow's face. Then he could die in peace.
Tbc...
Series: The Dark World
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Angel/Xander
Prompt: Trump Card
Rating: Mature/Adults Only overall
Spoilers: AU after The Becoming, BtVS Season Two
Warnings: Bloodplay, D/s themes, dark!fic overall
Word Count: 582
This is part of my series The Dark World which is a sequel to The Dark'Verse. You should really read those before this or it won't make much sense.
Thanks to seductivembrace for the banner under the cut!
Doomed to Repeat It
It was cool outside. It was the first time in eighteen years. Seasons here were so different and Xander often forgot that they actually happened. Most of the time the weather reminded him of Sunnydale - when he could actually remember his previous life at all. It had been so long that sometimes he believed it all to be a dream.
He'd forgotten how many years it actually was now. Angel would know - always knew - but Xander only knew it was more than one hundred. It was weird, knowing you were over a century old even though you still looked seventeen. Angel understood it, of course, had lived with it in their dimension, but Xander - Xander still found it odd.
Looking at himself in the crude mirrors hanging in their chambers, he reflected on how he looked exactly the same as he had when they landed here - all except for the long scar severing his left eyebrow and continuing down onto his cheek below. But he liked that scar. It was the only one his body would keep, caused by his own sword when it was stolen from his hand in battle. He was lucky to keep his eye at all even though he had worn an eyepatch for months until the delicate orb was able to function in the bright light of the twin suns again.
He looked the same but he was so different. He was not the boy who had come to this world, a broke toy of a sadistic vampire and friend of the Slayer. He was not the loyal sidekick and goofy comic relief. He'd long ago lost that mantle, left behind the Xander he once was, slowly transforming into the Warrior-god this world needed.
But sometimes he remembered. He remembered standing frozen in a playground watching as Willow and Jesse chased each other around playing freeze-tag. He remembered licking soft serve ice cream from Willow's nose and the joy of seeing Buffy return home from the long summer away. He remembered making Giles laugh at some stupid joke that he may not have totally understood, but smiling widely at the way the older man's blue eyes twinkled with mirth.
He remembered yellow crayons and the way a little redheaded girl smiled at him when he gave her his own, unbroken box full.
That was what he needed. That was his trump card. His heart. It was what made him different. It had been the one thing he had that had saved him and those around him more times than he could count. That's what saved his life at the hands of Angelus. That's what gave him the will to go on.
Angel didn't like the plan. Neither did his advisers but Xander didn't care. He knew what he needed to do - had known it all along if he was honest with himself. He was ready. It was time to end this feud, this war, once and for all. He was going to give himself over to The Others. He was going to replace their broken warrior with an unbreakable one.
He only wished he would get to see a beatific smile like he'd once seen on his broken Willow's face. Then he could die in peace.
Tbc...