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Sunny Side of Hell	By : Rochelle Category: > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander Views: 2211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Sunny Side of Hell

Disclaimer #1: Logic problem: I am not Joss. Joss owns. Therefore I do not own.

Disclaimer #2: I�m just not creative enough to come up with my own OCs, therefore Sage belongs to Dimitri Aidan, who also supplied this idea.
Author: Rochelle B

Dedications: Dimitri Aidan, who needs a life in the worst way and Aloysha Star, who is God when it comes to �guy emotions� and gay sex. Because he�s a slut. Seriously, ask him, he�ll tell you.

Rating: R to NC-17

Parings: Various. Main: Xander/Spike

Warnings: Slash, language, sex, violence.... Alternate Universe. Rape, angst, fluff.

Summery: Xander wishes for a better world. Buffy isn�t a slayer, Spike isn�t a vampire, and he�s lived in San Francisco most his life. Now he�s headed back to Sunnydale and about to learn that some things never change.
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Chapter One

Wishes and Angels

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Alexander Harris had to admit that, for all his cheerful letters and wide smiles, his life sucked a lot of ass. Here he was, alone in Africa with one eye gouged out and no idea what the hell he was doing anymore. While the good fight wasn�t exactly over it wasn�t really his fight anymore.
He was destined to be the guy who told the new slayers stories about the �good old days� while they smiled and rolled their eyes at the pathetic old guy. He wasn�t even out of his twenties and already he was looking back bitterly. He knew he couldn�t fight anymore; with one eye and a series of lingering scars and aches from his years as a Scooby he would be of even less use now than he�d been before, a triumph in and of itself.
True, Giles had offered him a position in the new Watcher�s Council but Xander had never been one for authority type things, had a serious mad-on for the Council in general, and, if those wasn�t good enough reasons, he just didn�t want to. He hated the idea of being put out to pasture and given some kind of desk or research job.
He longed to hold an ax, just one more time, and see a vamp turn to dust in front of him.
�Hullo Alexander.� A slightly raspy voice remarked. Xander jumped; surprised that anyone in the dive he�d chosen to drown his sorrows in knew his name. Or English for that matter. French was the language of choice around here and damn if it wasn�t a total pain in his ass.
The man who�d spoken looked about his age, maybe a bit younger, and had sandy brown hair and the most intense blue eyes Xander had ever seen, though they were hidden behind wire-frame glasses and thick lashes, a shade or two darker than the man�s hair. There was something very familiar about him, but at the same time very�unfamiliar.
Xander blamed the three beers for his lack of mental coherency.
His accent was English, more on the �Stick-up the ass Wesley� spectrum of things. Very refined and formal.
Xander had learned there were lots of English accents. There was the aforementioned, then there was �Slightly Stuffy Giles� and �Ripper Giles/Had my throat sliced open Wesley� and �Spike�. There were probably others but Xander had yet to be exposed to them.
�Do I know you?�
The man smiled. �After a fashion. Doesn�t really matter. I�ve been sent by the Powers That Be.�
Xander squinted, not sure if he was excited or annoyed. The PTB usually lead to adventure of some sort and while Xander wasn�t ready to give it up, he wasn�t really sure he wanted part in whatever they were pitching.
He was really quite contrary these days. He picked up his beer, one of those good strong English kinds that Spike had gotten him drinking, and swirled it around some.
�What�re you?�
The man was silent for a moment, as if considering. �Vengeance demon in training, I suppose. The Powers seem to think you�ve been rather�cruelly used in your lifetime and want to offer you a�gift, as a reward for all that you�ve done over the years. Since I need a good wish under my belt and you cared so much for one of our kind it was suggested that I offer you that reward.�
Anya. It�d been almost two years and still her name spoke aloud was like a dagger through the heart, twisting and plunging deeper with every breath he took. To say he�d cared for her was a gross understatement. He�d loved her, like he�d never quite managed to care for anyone else. Yeah, he�d left her at the alter and he�d occasionally been annoyed with her or teased her or�a million other things, but he�d loved her so much that it had hurt.
He took a drink.
�I see. No pun intended.�
The man snorted lightly. �Obviously. But yes, you do see. You are the one who sees, you always have been. It�s rather amusing that Caleb was the first person to notice it, considering the people you hung out with.�
�See me, not laughing?� Xander snapped. Then, softer and more curious. �What�s that mean? The one who sees?�
�Err. Right then. Sorry mate.� A nervous chuckle colored the words. �And it means�that you saw. A supernatural sight of sorts, carried in your bloodline. You might be interested to know you�re descended from a long line of powerful gypsy conjurers.� Not really, but Xander didn�t say that. �You�ve been possessed, kidnapped, beaten, and nearly killed more times than The Slayer herself, but you still stand, but more than that you see people. Most attribute it to observance or luck, but you can read to the very core of most souls.
�If your power had been spotted and nurtured you could have been a great witch�wizard�magic-user, not to mention fighter. You didn�t have to spend your life as a demon-magnet and donut fetcher.�
Way to hit a sore spot. Xander just took another drink and stared at the countertop balefully. Somehow hearing what he could have been didn�t make him feel any better about himself. As if sensing that his companion cleared his throat then sighed.
�Sorry, again. The point is you have a chance to fix things. Regain your eye, bring your home back, send all demons away. You want it and you can have it. Just tell me what you wish for.�
Xander snorted. Sure, what the hell? There was no way anyone, least of all a demon-in-training, could hope to grant him what he truly wanted. He wanted a better life for everyone he�d ever cared for, everyone who�d ever fallen fighting the good-fucking-fight and never been acknowledged, he wanted his girls to be happy, he wanted�man did he want.
He wished that Buffy hadn�t been a slayer and that she and Dawn had just been happy. He wished Willow had never gone magic crazy, he wished Tara and Cordy and Joyce and even Wesley hadn�t died, he wished Anya had never met him, he wish Spike hadn�t had to sacrifice himself for the good of the world, twice without so much as a fucking thank you from the Powers That be. He wished Giles had been able to have a family, a real family like he deserved and that all of the crazy shit in Sunnydale hadn�t driven his parents to the brink. He wished he hadn�t killed his best friend and that Oz wasn�t god only knew where.
�What about you?� The man�s tone was a whisper, almost reverent. Xander hadn�t realized he�d spoken out loud and sighed.
�I never really wanted much for myself.� He looked over at the demon, who just stared back over the top of his glasses. �I just wanted for my family.�
�Nothing at all?�
�I just�wish I could do it over in a world where they had a chance at being happy.�
The man let out a breath, eyes rolling heavenward as seeking some sort of answer. And, really for all that Xander knew he was, and then smiled, eyes flaring bright gold. �Wish granted.�
The world began to swirl violently, as if Xander had been tossed into a blender and turned on high, only with less screaming and blood. The man stayed still though and his smile turned from soft to feral while an eyebrow quirked in an all too familiar manner. Xander knew whom exactly he was sitting with, just like that. Should have known before, there was only one guy in the history of the world who could stand to sit around and drink with him.
�Spike?�
�You�ve done good whelp.� Spike was surrounded in a soft white light, that didn�t suit him in the least and was gone, leaving on Xander and the white light which was coming closer and threatened to slam into him like a mack truck.
And then it did and he felt a brief flash of pain, indescribable pain like being ripped apart from the inside and then slammed together all at once. He sat upright, not really remembering lying down, and couldn�t keep the shout from leaving his lips.
His eyes darted around. Everything was white, whiter than white, and smelled like ammonia and bleach�no, worse than that. It smelled like ammonia, bleach, and flowery perfume that someone had tried to mask the first two scents with. He wrinkled his nose and looked down at himself. A white sheet was covering him but his upper body was covered in a gray t-shirt. He frowned at the white gauze that wound its way up his arms, starting at his wrist and going about halfway up to his elbow.
To his left were flowers, just beginning to wilt and brown around the leaves. To the right were large windows, opening out into an unfamiliar nighttime landscape.
�Oh my god!� He turned, blinking at the woman standing in the doorway to the room, one hand clasped over her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. Behind her was a man, tall and built, who looked torn between joy and fear. �Xander! You�re awake! We were so worried about you, oh my god.�
�Mom?� He felt like he hadn�t seen them in�forever, longer than that even. And she seemed�different. More alert than he remembered, but he wasn�t sure why he thought that. An image of a haggard looking woman, with bags under her eyes and graying hair in disarray flashed through his mind but he dismissed it. That wasn�t his mother.
The tears started flowing as she raced across the room and threw her arms around him. Her body, thin and almost fragile, shook as she sobbed. The scene seemed vaguely familiar to him and so, going with that feeling, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her.
�I was so worried, you scared me, I thought you�d never wake up!� Her words came out in a rush and he felt a pang of guilt. He held her tighter, looking up at his father who watched them cautiously. He tried to communicate his confusion with his eyes.
�Lacy, dear, you�re going to choke him.�
�What? Oh, sorry Xander I�god, I�m sorry.� She released him as if he was on fire and started to pull away. He reached out, grabbing her wrist and keeping her from going too far.
�What�s going on? Where are we?�
Her brow furrowed. �We�re at the hospital.�
He glanced out the window. �Unless Sunnydale has gained a river and a really big bridge, I doubt that.�
�Sunny�no, we�re in San Francisco. We�ve lived here since you were four, I�m surprised you even remember Sunnydale anymore.�
�I�� He did remember, now that she said it. Her, his father, him, and�something. School, friends, the dog�right. San Francisco. �Right. I�forgot. Why�m I in the hospital?�
�You don�t remember? Parker?�
Parker�he remembered a boy named Parker. One of the �loners�, kind of a quirky but cool guy. Really cute. In a totally non-homoerotic way of course, just in a noticing that another male of attractive kind of way. But�he�d never so much as spoken two words to the boy. He concentrated, trying to remember something beyond that but couldn�t. He shook his head.
�He goes to my school. What about him?�
She just stared at him as she�d never seen him before then looked back at his father. �Curtis? He doesn�t remember.�
His father nodded tightly then walked over, hands clenched at his side. �What�s the last thing you remember son? Think hard.�
�I�school. High school, you bought me that leather jacket and gave me a talk about being a man now.� As the words flowed from his mouth, as if coming from someone else, they became real, jumping into his mind with perfect color and audio as if they�d always been there.
And they must have been. Memories didn�t just pop up after all.
His father was silent for a moment then smiled, a wide smile. His father never smiled at him�no, that wasn�t right. He remembered playing football with his dad and seeing the man in the audience, holding his mother and beaming, as he accepted an award for�Science Fair. Eighth grade.
�What happened?�
�You had an accident. You�ve been in the hospital for a while now, the entire summer.�
�Summer? But�it�s fall.� He was certain of that. He remembered the leaves had just been starting to turn, early for the year.
�Your accident was in May Xander. I think�you�ve forgotten the entire year.�
�I�forgot?�
�It�s okay. You feel in with some bad people but everything will be better now. We�ll start everything over again. You stay with your mother and I�ll find the doctor and call Sage. He�ll be so happy to see you.�
He left without another word, leaving Xander confused. He turned to his mother, the only thing that seemed truly familiar to him.
�Mom? I�things seem different. I remember people and�things. Bad things. Someone named Caleb I think�� Images, fuzzy as if hidden through a veil, teased the edge of his mind, challenging him to rip the veil aside and see them for what they are. Flashes of distorted faces and gleaming weapons danced over his mind, gone before he could grasp them.
He could feel darkness though. It was�terrible.
�It�s okay baby. It was all a dream, a bad dream. You�ve been asleep for six days straight after all.� Her smile seemed fake but he dismissed it and instead turned that over in his mind. A dream. It was a dream. Yes�a dream.
He could already feel the images fading away, becoming nothing more than a strange dream.
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�Nice job.� Cordelia commented as she watched her former boyfriend welcome his new life. She had thought he�d put up more of a fight concerning the memories of the life he�d lead, but he seemed to be willing to let them go and accept the new ones.
Anya snorted. �I could have done better.�
�He would have known it was you. No disguise could change that. He�s The Seer after all.� She smiled at her partner-in-afterlife-crime. �Spike was perfect. I don�t know why you went for Vengeance Demon though.�
�It worked didn�t it?� Spike rolled his eyes. �Besides, I doubt Harris would have appreciated me telling him I�d been given wings by the higher ups and was his guardian angel. I don�t fucking appreciate it; twisted sense of humor you heavenly begins have Princess.�
She smiled cheekily. �I know.�
Spike was silent for a moment, watching the boy be fawned over by his still sniffling mother. This woman was a good bit different than the Lacy Harris Spike had encountered while he�d been living with the whelp.
Outside of Sunnydale she and her husband had never been confronted with things they didn�t understand or all of their friends dropping like flies before their eyes and so had never taken to drinking. The love had never fizzled out, they�d never had to beat their son to try and make him as twisted as they were, and they were�happy.
After a fashion anyway.
Exactly what the whelp had asked for. Spike shook his head. He just couldn�t wrap his mind around that boy being that damn selfless. Willing to give up his reward for everyone else�s sake. It was�just too damn good to believe. Did that boy not have a selfish bone in his body?
Then again he was The Seer; the ultimate in White Hats. It was in his nature.
�So what now Princess?�
�He goes back to Sunnydale.� She smiled almost sadly. �It�s Xander�s destiny. You can take the boy off of the Hellmouth-�
�But you can�t really take him off.� Spike finished.
�Exactly.�
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Soo�R&R. Let me know what you think. Should I continue or just pretend this story never happened? I wonder about these things, you know? Low self-esteem or something.
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Sunny Side of Hell