We Could Be Heroes (1/?)
I - I can remember, standing by the wall, and the gun shots above our heads. And we kissed, as though nothing could fall, and the shame was on the other side. Oh, we can beat them, forever and ever, then we could be heroes - just for one day.
David Bowie "Heroes"
Chapter Title: The Flying One, Son of None
Rating: R-ish
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Timeline: Season 2 Halloween onward
Pairings: Most canonwise, Xander/Faith
Crossover Material: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: General BtVS and AC ending information
Summary: After Halloween, Xander finds himself with the knowledge of the assassin Altair Ibn La-Ahad and the decision to either use these new skills to help his friends or not. But not everyone is very happy with that arrangement...
It was crazy to think he'd really gotten all of this costume for only twenty dollars. The thing looked like it had been taken off the very back of the person it was based off of - some assassin from the Crusades, the shop owner had said, with the design all cobbled together from different visual accounts. There was even dust on the robes in places.
Or at least it would've looked like it was off the back of someone if parts of it weren't made of plastic and faux leather. Even for that though, it still looked good.
First to be put on was the bottom-most layer of clothes: coarse white pants and a long sleeved shirt. Over those went a hooded white robe with a pattern in black thread looping around the shoulders with a red sash the hung down at the front and back underneath a wide leather belt festooned with small blade sheaths around his waist. It took a moment to straighten the strap attached to the belt that would hold the sheath for the faux sword then the rest of the outfitting continued.
Across the chest came a set of two straps: one which crossed from shoulder to under the left arm across the back with a half open sheath for a shorter blade attached to it. The other strap went under the right arm and attached to the back one with a triangular buckle near the right shoulder on the chest fastening them together.
On next went the leather boots, which required sitting down on the bed to pull them on and tuck in the pants then the fastening of the buckles that ran from ankle to below the knee where the tops of the boots ended. Then there were to last touches to the costume. On the right arm went a gauntlet of brown leather that covered the forearm and left the hand free to move. And on the left went another gauntlet, leather with attached silver overlapping plates that ended in a fingerless glove.
The faux blades slid easily into their appropriate sheaths then Xander moved to look in the long, scratched mirror leaning against the wall of his room as his hands absently flicked the long tails of the robe. He blinked a bit at his reflection, which looked much more fearsome and formidable than he felt.
Shifting his left ring finger, he closed his hand into a fist and popped the hidden blade just like the shop owner had showed him. Grinning that the bits of plastic and cheap metal worked so well, he let it slide back then reached up to pull the hood of the robe over his head, shadowing all but his nose and chin underneath the peaked end of it.
"Time to go," he said to his reflection and gave it a nervous thumbs up before he left his room to start the trek over to Buffy's.
+ + +
Cordelia ran as fast as she could - rather difficult in heels - trying desperately to get away from the demon chasing her. And it was talking about eating her to hurt Buffy for whatever reason.
Just once seen with those losers and it got her this!
"Guhth!"
The pavement suddenly swooped up at her and she hit it hard, palms scraping against it to come away bloody. She then rolled over and screamed as the demon swung its arms, claws ready to tear her apart. To rip into her guts and...
Where was the pain?
The gut ripping?
Blinking, Cordelia looked up to see the demon toppling backwards, a slim little throwing dagger buried hilt deep in each eye and its throat. As it hit the ground, she heard soft footsteps behind her and turned to see a cowled figure in white approaching. His head tilted slightly towards her then he bent and retrieved his daggers quietly, wiping the blood off on the red sash underneath his belt.
"You should get inside," he said in a low, strangely accented voice.
Then he was gone, walking off without even offering to help her up. He didn't even look back when she started yelling after him.
The bastard!
Whoever he was…
+ + +
Willow desperately wished that she could be useful. But, no, she was a ghost and was worthless to her friends except to look outside the warehouse at the demons and Spike.
Worthless!
She glanced outside again and saw the blond vampire some distance away, lighting a cigarette as his minions still strove to get the warehouse doors open despite Angel's best efforts. He couldn't even do his own dirty work…
Her attention was suddenly caught before she ducked back inside by movement above him - something white flashing in the dark.
What the…?
As Spike blew out a puff of smoke, he descended suddenly like a diving bird of prey or some sort of avenging angel. She gasped as the figure in white landed hard on Spike's upper back with one hand reaching down to grasp his shoulder as the other drew back. A blade flashed as the vampire crumpled when the arm came whipping down like a striking snake, driving the weapon hard into his neck. If Spike had been human, the blow would have killed him…
Willow gasped as the figure stood and drew a short blade from behind his back before moving forward with quiet footsteps. As he reached a patch of light from a nearby streetlamp, she recognized him.
Xander. It was her best friend, as trapped in his costume as they rest of them!
"NO!" she screamed and ran towards him, realizing that he aimed to kill the demons - the kids. She had to try and stop him, even if she was a ghost!
Just as she expected to run through him, though, she slammed into his chest. Looking up, she found Xander looking down at her in confusion from under the shadowing hood before she disappeared, dragged back her body.
She had stopped him…
She had stopped him…
+ + +
In the dim light of the morning, no one noticed a figure crouching on the roof of Sunnydale High above its main entrance. White robes flapped slightly in the wind and the figure lifted its head, the bird-like peak of the hood shadowing the face underneath it until the sun rose further to reveal the nose and chin.
Xander sank down onto the edge of the roof as he turned his head towards the rising sun, groaning as the muscles in his legs protested the long time he'd spent crouching. Pushing back the hood covering his face, he stretched out his legs and began slowly massaging them, not realizing until the pain had truly started to fade that the method had come from the memories still swirling around in his head.
When the aches had finally disappeared, he sighed and leaned back against the roof with his arms folded underneath his head. The sheath of the short blade dug into his back but he shifted his shoulders slightly and became more comfortable.
As he stared at the colors in the sky, Xander wondered where his life would go now. It had already changed so much with the discovery of Buffy's calling, the existence of vampires…Jesse's death. All that had happen in the past year and a half. And now…
Now he wasn't sure what to do.
He wasn't sure just what had happened but he could remember most of Halloween night. It was hazy, like looking through crystallized glass, but he could see it. He - or more correctly the man possessing his body - had swept through foes with a greater ease than even Buffy did. The one real demon he had run into threatening…Cordelia? Had it really been her? That demon hadn't stood a chance. And Spike! He had taken out Spike, for God's sake.
And now he could remember. He could remember so much!
Fighting.
Killing.
Deaths.
Assassinations.
Shouts of victory.
Cries of defeat.
The thrill of the chase.
Soaring over rooftops.
A burst of sand in his face.
Pain.
Glory.
Life.
The life of a completely different man.
Xander sat up slowly, his hands propped behind him on the roof, and frowned at the sky. As he could see it he had a choice in front of him. Write down what he knew and sort it all out so learn from it to make use of it in this fight because he had a feeling the memories still in his heard weren’t going to stay for long. Or...he could forget it and remain as he was.
Make a difference.
Or be the donut guy.
He knew he was more than that; that he kept everyone going sometimes with his jokes. That was why he said them. But he didn't want to just be the backbone of the team. He accepted it while it was all he had but…now it wasn't all he had.
But if he did this…if he really started this, he had to keep with it. He had to hold with it. There couldn't be any half-assed attempts or going back.
He could stay Xander.
Or he could become someone like Altair Ibn La-Ahad.
Xander sighed then got to his feet, looking down at the empty place on his left hand where his index finger used to be. It was weird just having it…gone…but that and with the entire outfit he wore now being real… And the memories staying…
Well, shit, it all had to mean something, didn’t it?
"I'll do it," he said quietly aloud as he let his hand fall to his side. "To make a difference. And to keep my family safe.
David Bowie "Heroes"
Chapter Title: The Flying One, Son of None
Rating: R-ish
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Timeline: Season 2 Halloween onward
Pairings: Most canonwise, Xander/Faith
Crossover Material: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: General BtVS and AC ending information
Summary: After Halloween, Xander finds himself with the knowledge of the assassin Altair Ibn La-Ahad and the decision to either use these new skills to help his friends or not. But not everyone is very happy with that arrangement...
It was crazy to think he'd really gotten all of this costume for only twenty dollars. The thing looked like it had been taken off the very back of the person it was based off of - some assassin from the Crusades, the shop owner had said, with the design all cobbled together from different visual accounts. There was even dust on the robes in places.
Or at least it would've looked like it was off the back of someone if parts of it weren't made of plastic and faux leather. Even for that though, it still looked good.
First to be put on was the bottom-most layer of clothes: coarse white pants and a long sleeved shirt. Over those went a hooded white robe with a pattern in black thread looping around the shoulders with a red sash the hung down at the front and back underneath a wide leather belt festooned with small blade sheaths around his waist. It took a moment to straighten the strap attached to the belt that would hold the sheath for the faux sword then the rest of the outfitting continued.
Across the chest came a set of two straps: one which crossed from shoulder to under the left arm across the back with a half open sheath for a shorter blade attached to it. The other strap went under the right arm and attached to the back one with a triangular buckle near the right shoulder on the chest fastening them together.
On next went the leather boots, which required sitting down on the bed to pull them on and tuck in the pants then the fastening of the buckles that ran from ankle to below the knee where the tops of the boots ended. Then there were to last touches to the costume. On the right arm went a gauntlet of brown leather that covered the forearm and left the hand free to move. And on the left went another gauntlet, leather with attached silver overlapping plates that ended in a fingerless glove.
The faux blades slid easily into their appropriate sheaths then Xander moved to look in the long, scratched mirror leaning against the wall of his room as his hands absently flicked the long tails of the robe. He blinked a bit at his reflection, which looked much more fearsome and formidable than he felt.
Shifting his left ring finger, he closed his hand into a fist and popped the hidden blade just like the shop owner had showed him. Grinning that the bits of plastic and cheap metal worked so well, he let it slide back then reached up to pull the hood of the robe over his head, shadowing all but his nose and chin underneath the peaked end of it.
"Time to go," he said to his reflection and gave it a nervous thumbs up before he left his room to start the trek over to Buffy's.
+ + +
Cordelia ran as fast as she could - rather difficult in heels - trying desperately to get away from the demon chasing her. And it was talking about eating her to hurt Buffy for whatever reason.
Just once seen with those losers and it got her this!
"Guhth!"
The pavement suddenly swooped up at her and she hit it hard, palms scraping against it to come away bloody. She then rolled over and screamed as the demon swung its arms, claws ready to tear her apart. To rip into her guts and...
Where was the pain?
The gut ripping?
Blinking, Cordelia looked up to see the demon toppling backwards, a slim little throwing dagger buried hilt deep in each eye and its throat. As it hit the ground, she heard soft footsteps behind her and turned to see a cowled figure in white approaching. His head tilted slightly towards her then he bent and retrieved his daggers quietly, wiping the blood off on the red sash underneath his belt.
"You should get inside," he said in a low, strangely accented voice.
Then he was gone, walking off without even offering to help her up. He didn't even look back when she started yelling after him.
The bastard!
Whoever he was…
+ + +
Willow desperately wished that she could be useful. But, no, she was a ghost and was worthless to her friends except to look outside the warehouse at the demons and Spike.
Worthless!
She glanced outside again and saw the blond vampire some distance away, lighting a cigarette as his minions still strove to get the warehouse doors open despite Angel's best efforts. He couldn't even do his own dirty work…
Her attention was suddenly caught before she ducked back inside by movement above him - something white flashing in the dark.
What the…?
As Spike blew out a puff of smoke, he descended suddenly like a diving bird of prey or some sort of avenging angel. She gasped as the figure in white landed hard on Spike's upper back with one hand reaching down to grasp his shoulder as the other drew back. A blade flashed as the vampire crumpled when the arm came whipping down like a striking snake, driving the weapon hard into his neck. If Spike had been human, the blow would have killed him…
Willow gasped as the figure stood and drew a short blade from behind his back before moving forward with quiet footsteps. As he reached a patch of light from a nearby streetlamp, she recognized him.
Xander. It was her best friend, as trapped in his costume as they rest of them!
"NO!" she screamed and ran towards him, realizing that he aimed to kill the demons - the kids. She had to try and stop him, even if she was a ghost!
Just as she expected to run through him, though, she slammed into his chest. Looking up, she found Xander looking down at her in confusion from under the shadowing hood before she disappeared, dragged back her body.
She had stopped him…
She had stopped him…
+ + +
In the dim light of the morning, no one noticed a figure crouching on the roof of Sunnydale High above its main entrance. White robes flapped slightly in the wind and the figure lifted its head, the bird-like peak of the hood shadowing the face underneath it until the sun rose further to reveal the nose and chin.
Xander sank down onto the edge of the roof as he turned his head towards the rising sun, groaning as the muscles in his legs protested the long time he'd spent crouching. Pushing back the hood covering his face, he stretched out his legs and began slowly massaging them, not realizing until the pain had truly started to fade that the method had come from the memories still swirling around in his head.
When the aches had finally disappeared, he sighed and leaned back against the roof with his arms folded underneath his head. The sheath of the short blade dug into his back but he shifted his shoulders slightly and became more comfortable.
As he stared at the colors in the sky, Xander wondered where his life would go now. It had already changed so much with the discovery of Buffy's calling, the existence of vampires…Jesse's death. All that had happen in the past year and a half. And now…
Now he wasn't sure what to do.
He wasn't sure just what had happened but he could remember most of Halloween night. It was hazy, like looking through crystallized glass, but he could see it. He - or more correctly the man possessing his body - had swept through foes with a greater ease than even Buffy did. The one real demon he had run into threatening…Cordelia? Had it really been her? That demon hadn't stood a chance. And Spike! He had taken out Spike, for God's sake.
And now he could remember. He could remember so much!
Fighting.
Killing.
Deaths.
Assassinations.
Shouts of victory.
Cries of defeat.
The thrill of the chase.
Soaring over rooftops.
A burst of sand in his face.
Pain.
Glory.
Life.
The life of a completely different man.
Xander sat up slowly, his hands propped behind him on the roof, and frowned at the sky. As he could see it he had a choice in front of him. Write down what he knew and sort it all out so learn from it to make use of it in this fight because he had a feeling the memories still in his heard weren’t going to stay for long. Or...he could forget it and remain as he was.
Make a difference.
Or be the donut guy.
He knew he was more than that; that he kept everyone going sometimes with his jokes. That was why he said them. But he didn't want to just be the backbone of the team. He accepted it while it was all he had but…now it wasn't all he had.
But if he did this…if he really started this, he had to keep with it. He had to hold with it. There couldn't be any half-assed attempts or going back.
He could stay Xander.
Or he could become someone like Altair Ibn La-Ahad.
Xander sighed then got to his feet, looking down at the empty place on his left hand where his index finger used to be. It was weird just having it…gone…but that and with the entire outfit he wore now being real… And the memories staying…
Well, shit, it all had to mean something, didn’t it?
"I'll do it," he said quietly aloud as he let his hand fall to his side. "To make a difference. And to keep my family safe.