See previous part for Disclaimer et. al.
Xander was confused. He'd been dead for a few hours as far as he could tell. But nothing had changed in his environment. There was no tunnel with a light at the end; as far as he could see it was bright white. There wasn't even any ground visible, but he was standing on something solid. Where was Saint Peter ushering him in through the Pearly Gates? Didn't I help save the world enough times to qualify for my wings?
His musings were interrupted by a voice from behind him. "Hey, kid, sorry I'm late. The traffic was murder." Xander spun to see quite possibly the worst dressed man he'd ever seen smirking at him. He looked like a pimp. Hawaiian shirt, a gaudy fedora on his head and leather pants.
"Who are you? Where the hell am I?" Xander demanded without preamble.
"Geez, right to the point, huh? Guess dying can change a guy," the pimp-guy said. Xander stalked over and got right in his face.
"I'm having a very bad day. Not really in the mood for chit-chat. You're gonna answer my questions, or I'm gonna bury my foot in your ass!" he hissed out.
The man sighed melodramatically, "Are you finished?" And before he could react, Xander's fist shot out and knocked him on his ass. "All right, already. Y'know, no one in your little group has any patience," he said as he got to his feet, rubbing his face where he'd been hit. Before Xander could demand answers again, the man cut him off. "The name's Whistler, kid. Ring a bell?"
Xander's eyes narrowed as he thought for a second. "You're the one who sent Deadboy to Sunnydale to help Buffy. Thanks for that," he scoffed.
Whistler rolled his eyes and groaned. "Don't remind me. I sent the schmuck to help the Slayer defeat the Master, not start some big star crossed romance with her. The PTB are still pissed at me over that whole mess."
Xander waited impatiently for Whistler to finish his tirade. "Uh-huh, interesting. Why are you here? And where is 'here'?" he said gesturing to the bright emptiness surrounding them.
"Well, 'here' is someplace between worlds where the Powers That Be plunked you down while they decided your fate. Me, I'm here to carry out their decision."
"So, which is it, then? The Pearly Gates or the Big Fiery Pit?"
The smirk on Whistler's face grew. "Neither."
"Oh, great. So, what, I'm stuck in In-Between Land for eternity?"
"Nope."
Xander exploded. "Quite the cryptic crap! You know how much I hate guys like that, so just
get to the point!!"
"You're going back."
Xander stood in stunned silence, while his mind caught up with what Whistler was saying. "You're sending me back to earth?" he couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice. "Back to ..." he trailed off before saying her name. "I'll do anything. Whatever it is, I'll do it."
Whistler's grin started to disappear. "It's not that simple kid. The PTB don't just hand out second chances for nothing. You'll have to earn it. Just like Angel and him getting his humanity back sometime in the future."
Xander was confused, again. "So, what, you want me to be a superhero? 'Help the helpless?'" he asked. "Cuz I'm just Normal-Guy, y'know, not much use when the going gets tough."
"Well, you're not that useless, but no, you're not getting superpowers. It's just that your death is going to start a chain of events that will play hell with the Balance."
"The Balance?" Xander queried.
"Between Good and Evil, kid. See, reality is only stable as long as there is an acceptable balance between the forces of Good and Evil in the world. I'm a Balance Demon, and it's my job to maintain that balance, or else the world goes to hell in a handbasket, literally."
"So, where do I fit into your grand scheme?"
"We need you to change some things, so that the future doesn't look so bleak for the Good side."
"Change things? How?"
"Obviously, we can't send you back to the moment you died, since your body is a dead shell. So we have to send you back to your body in the past," Whistler emphasized.
"When?" Xander asked succinctly, still reeling from the previous revelations.
"Sunday, January 5th, 1997."
Xander's mouth dropped open. "That's almost five years ago! That's-" Realization hit him. "That's the day before I met Buffy."
"Bingo!" Whistler said enthusiastically and clapped his hands together once. "You're ideally placed to correct past mistakes, and especially to avert a few of the Good side's worst tragedies of the last decade," he held up one finger. "One, Angel losing his soul when he and Buffy got horizontal," another finger went up. "Two, Faith's turn to the dark side, and her living behind bars now," a third finger. "And three," Whistler paused and braced himself for an outburst from the frayed-around-the-edges young man before him, "Buffy getting turned into a vampire by Spike."
"What!!? Spike never turned Buffy!" Xander exclaimed, shocked.
"He will. The day after your death."
Xander regarded the balance demon suspiciously. "I don't believe you." he stated.
Whistler sighed deeply. "Didn't think ya would. So, I guess I'll have to show ya."
"Show me what?"
Whistler smiled enigmatically. "The future." And then he reached out and grabbed Xander's head in his hands. Xander's eyes rolled up in his head as he was treated to a horrid vision of things to come.
*~*~*
Xander saw the interior of a crypt; he recognized it as the one Spike had called home for the past year or so. The door burst open and a red faced Buffy Summers charged in, brandishing a crossbow, with a few stakes strapped to her belt. She swung her crossbow around the crypt, searching for her target. Xander assumed it was Spike, and Buffy was there to finally put the recently-dechipped vampire in the ground.
Xander couldn't hear any sounds, but when he saw Buffy wince and her free hand fly to her side, Xander just knew what had happened. He was proven right when the Slayer pulled a tranquilizer dart out of her side. She legs almost immediately started wobbling, and she fell to her knees after a few seconds. The crossbow fell from her hand and she fell forward flat on her face. A sense of utter dread filled Xander as a bleached blond figure stepped out of the shadows of the crypt, a small handgun held at his side.
Spike threw the gun to the side and picked up the temporarily paralyzed Slayer, carrying her to the concrete coffin that was the centerpiece of his dank home. He set her down gently, and brushed her hair out of her face as he spoke to her. No doubt telling her they'd be together for eternity, or something similarly nauseating, Xander thought. Buffy was barely conscious, and the paralyzing agent was probably making facial expressions impossible, as the lack of a look of revulsion of her face proved. She couldn't even flinch when Spike bent down and bit into the side of her neck.
Xander watched in agony as Buffy's face grew pale, and her eyes became unfocused and glossy. Once Spike had drunk his fill, he bit into his wrist, and held it to the dying Slayer's mouth. Her gag reflex had gone with the rest of her motor functions, and the vampire's blood flowed freely down her throat. After about thirty seconds, the wound on Spike's wrist had healed up, and he brought his hand over her face, closing her eyelids over her unblinking eyes. There was a flash of light and Xander suddenly was outside the Summers' house.
Xander saw several cars parked by the curb, and guessed that the Scoobies had gathered to mourn his death, and wait for Buffy to return. He was only marginally surprised to in fact see Buffy stumbling up her steps. Or rather, the demon that had recently come to inhabit her body. The new vampire had cuts and bruises on her face, likely put there to garner sympathy from her former family and friends. She pounded on the front door, which opened seconds later to reveal and red eyed Joyce Summers. A series of emotions flashed over the eldest Summers face; relief at her daughter's return, concern at her bedraggled appearance, and above all a healthy dollop of grief at the tragedy that was her daughter's life.
Xander watched in horror as Buffy stepped over the threshold with her mother's help. Apparently some form of invitation had been given in Joyce's worried greeting. The light flashed again and Xander then stood at the entrance to the Summer's living room. He was between Joyce helping Buffy through the door and the rest of his friends standing expectantly in the living room. They were all there, Xander saw. Willow nearly catatonic in grief, being comforted by Tara. Dawn was clutching tightly to Giles' hand as she wiped some stray tears from her eyes. Even Angel was there, presumably having driven in from LA to console his former lover. Cordelia was sitting on the couch with Wesley, and she was also rubbing tears off her face.
A feeling of certain doom filled Xander as Buffy was led into the living room by her mother. He saw Angel's eyes go wide and his mouth drop open as his vampiric senses picked up Buffy's 'change' before anyone else. Before he could react, however, Buffy had pushed her mother away and leapt forward, leading with a stake. She plunged it into his chest and then he was no more. The room looked on in shock and a cruel grin, totally unsuited to her delicate features, stretched over her face. Then her demonic visage appeared, and the grin fit in perfectly.
Buffy shouted something, and a few seconds later Spike walked casually in through the front door. He stepped over Mrs. Summers body on his way into the room. The older woman had fainted dead away at the sight of her turned daughter. Giles was the first to break out of the collective trance that had befallen the humans in the room. He charged blindly at Spike, lashing out with a wild, rage-fueled punch. Spike calmly sidestepped the Watcher and grabbed him by the neck. If Xander could have heard sounds, a sharp snap would have been resonated through the room as Rupert Giles' neck was broken, in a manner sickeningly reminiscent of the fate that his former girlfriend had suffered.
On the other side of the room, meanwhile, Wesley and Cordelia had jumped up and had drawn weapons. The smart people in Sunnydale always kept a stake and/or cross on their person at night. Buffy laughed mockingly at them as they advanced toward her. Cordelia shoved a cross at Buffy but the Slayer-Vamp didn't flinch. She casually batted it out of the seer's hands as Wesley tried to jam a stake home. Buffy effortlessly caught the former Watcher's arm in mid-swing and swiftly redirected the stake into his own chest. Wesley coughed up blood and fell to the ground and was soon joined by Cordelia, who'd had her throat ripped open by the ex-Slayer's now-taloned hands.
Spike, meanwhile had fed on an unresisting Tara while holding Willow up by the neck. The blonde witch fell dead to the floor, and Spike hurled Willow at Buffy's feet. Xander watched as the vampire in his blond former girlfriend's body dragged his best friend to her feet, and viciously bit into the red head's neck. Tears fell from Willow's eyes as she was exsanguinated by her former best friend.
If it was possible, Xander would have lost his lunch at the sight of the carnage surrounding him. But he couldn't even move, no matter how much he wanted to flee this den of horrors where he'd witnessed the murders of everyone he loved in the world. He couldn't close his eyes, because he this was in his mind's eye, which never even blinked. Instead, he had to watch Buffy and Spike kiss fiercely, tasting the blood of the witches in each other's mouths. When they finally separated, they cackled evilly, and gathered up the passed out bodies of Dawn and Joyce. Xander tried not to contemplate where the two vampires were taking the surviving Summers women. Thankfully, he didn't have to, as a light flashed, and he felt his corporeal body again.
*~*~*
When the vision ended, Xander collapsed out of Whistler's grasp. The scene in the Summers' living room was still fresh in his mind, and he fell to his knees, dry heaving. Whistler took a step back and let the young man collect himself.
"Ya see what I mean by your death screwing up the Balance, now? You just witnessed the destruction of humanity's last line of defense against the baddies that wanna rule over the Hellmouth. Angel'll never get to fulfill his destiny and save the world, and, worse, no more Slayers are gonna be called until Faith dies."
Xander looked up in shock. "What? How's that? 'When one dies another is called.' It's the rule!"
"Lemme ask you a question, kid. How do you think Angel was brought out of hell?"
Xander thought about that, searching his memory for the explanation. "That-that 'First Evil' thing that was in Jenny's body. It brought him back so he would kill Buffy."
"Eeeeihn!" Whistler buzzed. "Wrong answer. That was just the First trying to take advantage of the situation. The real reason behind Angel's return from the Big Fiery Pit was a deal that the Powers made with the First. Angel was let out of hell in exchange for a return to the way things were before you brought Buffy back from the dead. Y'know, the Chosen *One*? So, Faith's the 'one girl in all the world' now-" Whistler continued, but was then cut off by Xander.
"But she's wasting away in prison," he finished.
"Got it in one, kid," the demon said, smiling. "The Council'll try and take out Faith, but she's in a max security joint, and those guys have trouble shooting fish in a barrel. So, the forces of good'll be gutted, and the next big bad to visit Sunnyhell will have free reign to end the world."
Xander took all that in. He recalled how Buffy had told him that Whistler was the one who had told her how to save the world when Acathla was awakened. There was no real reason to believe that the demon was lying to him now. There was no choice now in Xander's mind. If he didn't accept the mission, everyone he loved would die, and the world could end.
He chuckled dryly. "So, I've gotta save the world, huh?" Taking a deep breath, Xander continued. "All right, let's go Back to the Future, Doc."
"Hold up there, Michael J.," Whistler said with a chuckle. "This isn't a risk free venture here. If you screw up, or fail to prevent any of those three tragedies I mentioned, you'll pay for it. As in, when ya die the second time around, you'll be spending eternity getting poked with pitchforks by guys in red pajamas. Get my drift?" Whistler paused to let that sink in. "So. Are you sure you want to go back?"
There was no hesitation. "Yes."
Whistler smiled again. "I thought you'd say that." With that, the demon snapped his fingers, and Xander's world again went black.
End II