Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 4.

Alexander was standing in the desert. He didn’t know where. He consciously accessed his Dragon Stone to take his other form and get his bearings.

...And nothing happened.

He felt under his armor. It was gone. His constant companion for years and the key to taking his other form was gone. He felt very vulnerable despite the weapons and armor he was still wearing. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and Alexander drew his blade to deal with whatever beasties had just been summoned. Except there were none. Just three large chests and a pile of rust he eventually recognized as his uncle Rory’s old car—the headlights were the clue. He checked the chests. They were his own, or at least a few of the many chests he owned. Two were filled with gold and quite heavy even with his enhanced strength. The third was filled with some of his favorite jewels and trinkets he had captured. Whenever he needed a gift for Audrey, he dug into that chest.

“Hey!” he yelled at the sky. “I don’t want this crap! I want my wife and son!”

The sky stayed silent.

It was his own fault, Alexander decided morosely. He hadn’t discussed it with the Patriarch beforehand. He had simply assumed that he would have to go back to the old Dragon and ask to be sent back; and then he and Audrey would ask if they could all be sent to Earth or all stay in Rivellon.

And now he had been taken from them. And vice versa.

Alexander felt lost. A minute getting his bearings and he knew from the smells in the air and the planes flying overhead that he was back on Earth. And yet, he’d never felt further from home. Even when he’d first been transported there, he hadn’t felt like he’d been leaving all that much behind here. He knew Willow would miss him but didn’t think anyone else, including his parents, would notice. Too bad now it felt like he’d left part of his soul in Rivellon.

He took a deep breath and decided he wasn’t going to mope. With or without his Dragon Stone, Alexander was a Dragon Knight, Dictator-in-Chief of Rivellon, and the commander of the most feared army in that world. They hadn’t even been the largest, but they’d defeated far larger armies in their quest to unify that world and it hadn’t simply been Alexander flying in to the rescue either. Anti-dragon defenses had made a strong comeback after they won their first siege. Tactics, planning, logistics, propaganda, negotiation, and even hygiene had allowed him to literally conquer the world.

The same mind that had conquered that world was now solely focused on one thing: finding his family.

First things first; he had to figure out where he was.

As night fell, Alexander could see the light pollution (under a haze of real pollution) that could only be the Los Angeles skyline as well as a nearby road filled with commuters heading home at the end of the day. Or perhaps leaving the city for a weekend elsewhere. By then, Alex had already put all three chests into his bag of holding. Abandoning his uncle’s car, he set out in a northwesterly direction towards what he hoped was Sunnydale and his best first chance of getting home again. He knew he didn’t know that much about magic, but if Giles was still around, he hoped the watcher knew enough to send him home.

Soon enough, he was upon the outskirts of Sunnydale. He laughed when he realized that he had been three leagues away and despite jogging most of the way in full armor, he wasn’t the least winded, unlike when he had first arrived in Rivellon and been winded by walking three leagues.

You never really forget your childhood home. Even years away, you step onto familiar streets and almost everything comes back. He let his legs carry him down the streets of his childhood, not really sure if he’d just forgotten various landmarks or if things had changed that much since he’d been gone. Soon enough his legs carried him to his parents’ house. Even from the street he could hear shouting and he sighed. Even years away hadn’t changed his parents at all. He let his legs carry him away again.

Next he found himself in front of the burned out shell of his old high school. He was slightly surprised that it was still here. He’d expected that it would have been torn down by now. He’d been away for years, after all. Being here brought back memories of his first real battle. Buffy had assumed that his Army training had prepared him to lead her little army – and Xander hadn’t wanted to disappoint her. (He stopped for a moment to think about how he’d just referred to himself as Xander less than an hour after arriving back in Sunnydale but shook it off) He’d led the 120 students against the unstoppable demon and his vampire minions as best he could at the time with only memories of his Halloween costume’s commanding officer to fall back on. He had been... not devastated, but maybe disappointed that he’d lost so many students that day.

Looking back now, however, he was amazed that such a small army of poorly trained, shoddily equipped kids—who had no experience other than surviving on a Hellmouth for 18 years—had survived at all.

He was pulled from his reverie by a couple of vampires emerging from the ruins of his old school. They stretched and yawned, clearly waking up from a long day’s sleep. One of them spotted him and pointed him out to the others.

“Ah, breakfast,” the biggest vamp said as they approached. “I usually don’t like my breakfast to come from a can, but I’ll make an exception in your case.”

Alexander wasn’t terribly impressed by what the vamps clearly thought of as wit. “You guys must still be asleep. I thought you were supposed to be hunters.” He shook his head at the confused look that got him. “You think about that for a moment. In the meantime, I understand there used to be a Slayer here a few years ago. Is she still around?”

“Yeah, she’s still around,” the female of the group confirmed. “And what do you mean supposed to be hunters.”

“Okay. Let’s say for a moment that you are hunters. You hunt...?” Alexander motioned them fill in the blank.

“Humans!” the biggest one sneered at him.

“I’m thinking of a more general term here. Starts with a ’P’,” he gave them a hint.

“Prey?” one of the others asked.

“Exactly,” Alexander snapped and pointed. “And what does prey do?”

“Screams!”

“Wets themselves?”

“Runs away,” the girl said quietly. She was starting to get a slightly worried look on her face and had already taken a step back.

“Five more points to the lady. And since I’m not running away, that should tell your inner hunter that I just might not be prey.”

“You should pray that I don’t break your arms before I kill you for wasting my time like that,” the big one growled showing the same level of wit as before.

In one move Alexander drew his sword and decapitated both the male vampires who were advancing on him. The female took off at that, but Alexander put on a burst of speed and skidded to a stop in front of her, holding his sword to her neck. He then sheathed it. The vampiress looked at him in shock. “I’m sparing you because you didn’t attack me and you answered my question. That’s enough for a pass for now, but this isn’t a free ride to hunt and kill. If I see you hunting humans, even tonight, then I’ll still kill you. However, those who provide service to me, will be rewarded. Tell your friends.”

Alexander watched her go. He then looked around. If Buffy was still around then Giles might still be around and Giles was his best, first chance at getting home again. He headed off in the direction he thought Giles’ apartment was.

Okay. Alexander might remember his house, the school, and Sunnydale in general well enough to get around, but he clearly had no memory of where Giles’ place was. He simply hadn’t been there often enough before he left. He ended up finding a gas station payphone and looking him up in the phone book before cross-referencing the address against a map of Sunnydale in the front of the book. Well, at least he had been in the right general area. He set off with an address and a map now etched in his mind. One thing about being a dragon was that a bird’s eye view gave you the perfect vantage point for making really good maps. Unfortunately, since his arms were also his wings while in flight, he had to memorize the terrain and then make maps from memory—a skill his cartographer had taught him, which also helped in memorizing said maps for later use. Like now.

Alexander found Giles’ place and knocked but no one answered. Hopefully, if he was in the phone book then it was likely that he was still around. He’d try back another time.

Alexander decided to try the bars. Everyone would be drinking age by now. Maybe he’d run into someone he knew who could point him in the right direction.

The third bar he visited was on the same block as The Bronze. He didn’t think anyone he knew would still be visiting there but he wanted to be sure. As he approached, he saw a tiny blonde leaving; clearly badly bruised and favoring her left arm. It had been a long time, but he definitely recognized Buffy. It helped that she hadn’t changed much.

“Buffy!” he called to her.

No one else had given him a second glance for wearing armor around Sunnydale even if his helmet was now in his bag of holding. Buffy fell into a defensive stance the moment she took him in.

“It’s been a long time, Buff. Didn’t really expect to see you here,” Alexander said.

Buffy’s eyes lost focus for a minute as she struggled to come to grips with the voice she remembered coming out of a very un-Xander-like body. “Xander!? Why are you wearing armor? I thought you were touring America?”

“For five years?” Alexander shot back incredulously. Had they really not noticed he’d been gone for so long?

“Five years? Xander, it’s been like three months. Maybe four,” Buffy said.

“We need to talk to Giles,” they said almost in unison.’

“Come on. I’ll walk you there,” said Buffy.

Alex shook his head. “I was just there, nobody was home. And what happened to your arm?”

Buffy looked down at her injured arm. “It’s nothing... there was this vampire, and she took me down, and I just... I don’t know how to stop her. You’ve really been gone for five years?” He did look older, but that might have just been the beard. It was well trimmed, but it definitely made him look older.

“So, you got beat and now you’re scared for the rematch?”

“It’s just, what if I can’t cut it?” Buffy asked.

“Here. Give me your arm.” Alexander took the appendage. He held his hands over it for a bit until they were glowing with a faint blueish light. “I don’t have an answer for you, Buffy. I can tell you that there’s an entire world out there that calls saying a funny quip before you kill a demon a ’Buffy’. You see, I kinda got empowered where I was sent and then given an impossible mission. I asked myself, ’Self, what would Buffy do?’, then I did that. And I became a hero to a lot of people. Just like you are to me.”

Buffy took her arm and worked it slowly. There was almost no pain. “How did you do that?”

“Feel like you’re up for a rematch now?” Alexander didn’t answer her question.

“Absolutely,” Buffy agreed eagerly.

After a little research, Buffy and Alexander stood in front of an abandoned frat house they were sure was the vampires’ lair. “We should take a look around. See how many are inside,” Buffy suggested.

“Just vampires, right? No demon god or Old One or anything?”

“No, just vamps. I think,” Buffy said.

“Then let’s just knock and see if they’ll come out to play,” Alexander grinned.

Buffy frowned. “We need weapons. Okay, I need weapons and they stole my weapons trunk.”

Alexander pulled out an empty leather bag. He reached in and pulled out a sword that was too big to have fit in the small bag without magic. “I don’t carry stakes any more, but you can use one of my backup swords if you want.” He handed it to her.

She was still testing it out when Alex walked up to the door and banged loudly. “Dragons and Slayers here. You forgot to pay your protection money this month.” He stepped back to give them room to come out. He wanted room to maneuver when the fight started.

“Oh look, boys. The Slayer’s back. And she brought along her watcher. You guys take the tin can. The Slayer is mine.” With that, Sunday picked up a 2X4 and started swinging it at Buffy who blocked the blow with her borrowed sword.

Alexander jumped and somersaulted backwards to gain some maneuvering room so his fight didn’t interfere with Buffy’s. As he landed, he pulled his shield from his back and drew his sword.

“Ha! He’s got a shield. What’s that going to do, buddy?” one of the vamps asked as he approached.

Alexander didn’t answer, instead he swung his shield at the vamp’s knees, taking him to the ground while simultaneously swinging his sword in an upwards arc, taking off the vamp’s head as he hit the ground. “That.” He grinned at the other vamps who were no longer quite so cocky.

“Can I ask you something before Buffy dusts you?” Alex said during a lull in the other fight.

Sunday looked at him, then looked around. All her minions were gone. “What are you? No watcher can take four vampires, no matter how much armor he’s wearing.”

“How do you know so much about watchers?” Buffy wondered.

Sunday sneered at her. “You’re not the first Slayer they sent to die on the Hellmouth. I was sent here back in ’82.”

“You were a Slayer?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“Yeah. And there have been 17 of us who have died here in the last 20 years. Including you and that Jamaican chick,” Sunday confirmed. “And none of them, including you and me, lasted more than a year here before they died, but the council keeps sending them into the meat grinder,” Sunday seemed almost sad about that.

“So, why the hell did you attack me if you knew who I was?” Buffy asked.

“To be honest, I wanted to know if you were a vampire or not. Or maybe just undead. Everyone knows that you died in the Master’s cave that night. And that spray-on tan isn’t fooling anything that isn’t human.”

“Hey!” Buffy yelled. “My tan is 100% natural!”

Even Alex raised an eyebrow at that. Dragon eyes could see that it wasn’t. Sunday just snorted.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I use a little bronzer.”

Sunday rolled her eyes at that. “And then you come here with your pet demon. I should have smelled you when you talked. What kind of demon are you?”

“And Xander’s not a demon!” Buffy defended.

Xand- Alex shook his head. “Not a demon. I’m a dragon. You smell the sulfur on my breath.”

“Is that what that is?” Buffy wondered. “I didn’t want to say anything. I figured you just forgot your toothbrush on your trip or something.”

“Later,” Alexander promised.

“Can we get on with this?” Sunday interrupted. “I’ve got people to go and places to kill.”

“Ri-i-ight.” Buffy shook her head at the purposeful misspeaking and fell into a fighting stance.

Sunday imitated her stance. “Oh, and you might not believe me, Slayer, since I’m trying to kill you and all, but if you survive, do your own research. The council isn’t on your side. The council is on the council’s side.” With that, she attacked.

Alex sheathed his sword and reset his shield on his back where it would be out of the way before sitting back to watch the showdown between the Vampire Slayer and the vampire Slayer. He was honestly a little worried and silently readied a fireball spell. Sunday was by far the more skilled fighter. Every punch and kick was fast, efficient, and devastating. Buffy’s blows were weak-sauce in comparison but she was so much faster and stronger than her opponent that she was able to make up for in speed and power what she lacked in technique. Also she had a sharp sword where the vampire had a piece of wood that was losing chunks of itself every time she blocked or attacked.

When Buffy had finally disemboweled the vampire and she was kneeling on the grass in front of the living Slayer, Sunday got in the last quip, saying, “There can be only one,” just before Buffy lopped off her head.

Buffy then turned her attention to her friend. “So. Dragon?”

“Yeah, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get the gang together first. It’s a long story and I only want to have to tell it once.”

Buffy scowled at that but said, “Fair enough, but first you have to help me move my stuff back to my room.”

Buffy piled box after box in Alex’s arms. Far more than an ordinary human could have carried. She, herself, carried only her Class Protector award and Mr. Gordo. As they were leaving, Giles ran up carrying a fairly sizable arsenal.

“I’ve been awake all night. I know I’m supposed to teach you self-reliance, but I can’t leave you out there to fight alone. To hell with what’s right, I’m ready to back you up. Let’s find the evil a-and fight it together,” he said.

“Great! Thanks! We’ll get right on that,” Buffy replied sarcastically and kept walking.

“The evil is this way?” Giles wondered.

“My room is,” Buffy smirked.

“Hey, Giles. Nice to hear your voice,” Alexander said from behind his boxes. He couldn’t actually see much at the moment.

“Xander is that you?” Giles asked. “Good to- um- hear you as well.”