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tamingthemuseTitle: A Time for Peace
Series: The Dark World
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Angel/Xander
Prompt: Solipsism
Rating: Mature/Adults Only overall
Spoilers: AU after The Becoming, BtVS Season Two
Warnings: Bloodplay, D/s themes, dark!fic overall
Word Count: 715
Author's Note: Okay, this is the end of the Dark World'verse. Enjoy.
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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seductivembrace for the banner under the cut!
Crossposting with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse and _xangel.
A Time for Peace
There was something wrong, he was sure of it. There had to be. He'd been told that they would be able to go back home once they had achieved peace. They had peace. He'd seen it. Every day he witnessed it. Their people worked together with The Others, now he knew they were called t'Freals, and they all praised him for bringing them together. Sure, there were still some outbreaks of fighting, that was expected after untold years of war, but overall, there was peace.
Maybe they couldn't go home because there was no place for them to return. He wondered many times if it was all in his head, if he had imagined it all: Willow, Buffy, Giles, Sunnydale, all of it. But he knew he couldn't have. They were real. He was sure of it. He still had a small scar on the inside of his wrist from the time he fell off the swing set in first grade and Willow had given him a band-aid because he was afraid to tell him mom. He smiled every time he ran his finger over the small raised mark that never quite healed right. It was the one physical reminder he had besides the scars given to him by his vampire.
But those were easy enough to explain away. Angel loved to revisit those scars, opening them up, reliving the pain and need they each represented. Xander couldn't remember how old they were anymore or how they'd originally been put there.
But his life, who he was before he was a Warrior God, he knew, deep down, that place was real - somewhere.
Before he knew it, it had been two years. Two years of peace and yet here they remained.
Maybe they couldn't go home because this was their home now. Maybe they had made this place their own. Here they didn't have to hide. They were happy in their own way, working side by side, so did he really need anything else – any place else?
But somehow, he knew this was wrong, they didn't belong here. They needed to go home.
Confused, Xander stood looking out across the fields, smiling at the people working together, the children playing without prejudice, wondering if this was all there was for him anymore.
He found himself wrapped in strong arms and he sagged back into Angel's embrace.
"Stop thinking so hard," Angel whispered into his long sable curls.
"Can't help it," he answered, twining his fingers with Angel's. "Do you want to go home?"
Angel sighed softly. "This again?"
"Yeah. I can't help it. Shouldn't we have left by now?"
"It is peace you need," the Shaman grumbled from behind them.
Xander jumped at the unexpected man behind him. "I hate it when you do that!" he shouted. "I'm going to put a bell on you."
The familiar rumbling was as close to laughter as the Shaman got but it made Xander smile nonetheless. "We have peace," he protested.
"Peace not for us but for you."
"I'm not at peace?"
"Are you?"
The idea of peace - his own peace - had haunted him for days until finally he thought he understood. He needed to let these people go. They didn't need him anymore. He had been afraid to leave, thinking that once he left, they would return to the fight.
It was time to leave, to learn to stand on his own and to let them do the same.
Standing before the Shaman, he calmly stated, "I'm ready to go home."
They were instructed to strip, that their clothing would not make the trip, so that was how they ended up together, naked on a hill, facing each other.
"This will hurt," the Shaman stated as he held the sword of Acathla high in air.
Before they were impaled, Xander whispered, "See you on the other side."
It hurt. It hurt so much. He was hot and cold in turns. He could feel himself screaming but he heard nothing, just the sound of wind piercing his ears. Soon there was nothing but the sense of flying, of falling and then the hard, cold ground.
Some part of him recognized this place but his head was hurting, fuzzy and he couldn't think. He reached out blindly, calling for the only thing he could remember.
“Angel.”
~~~~The End~~~~
Series: The Dark World
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Angel/Xander
Prompt: Solipsism
Rating: Mature/Adults Only overall
Spoilers: AU after The Becoming, BtVS Season Two
Warnings: Bloodplay, D/s themes, dark!fic overall
Word Count: 715
Author's Note: Okay, this is the end of the Dark World'verse. Enjoy.
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! Crossposting with
tamingthemuse and _xangel.There was something wrong, he was sure of it. There had to be. He'd been told that they would be able to go back home once they had achieved peace. They had peace. He'd seen it. Every day he witnessed it. Their people worked together with The Others, now he knew they were called t'Freals, and they all praised him for bringing them together. Sure, there were still some outbreaks of fighting, that was expected after untold years of war, but overall, there was peace.
Maybe they couldn't go home because there was no place for them to return. He wondered many times if it was all in his head, if he had imagined it all: Willow, Buffy, Giles, Sunnydale, all of it. But he knew he couldn't have. They were real. He was sure of it. He still had a small scar on the inside of his wrist from the time he fell off the swing set in first grade and Willow had given him a band-aid because he was afraid to tell him mom. He smiled every time he ran his finger over the small raised mark that never quite healed right. It was the one physical reminder he had besides the scars given to him by his vampire.
But those were easy enough to explain away. Angel loved to revisit those scars, opening them up, reliving the pain and need they each represented. Xander couldn't remember how old they were anymore or how they'd originally been put there.
But his life, who he was before he was a Warrior God, he knew, deep down, that place was real - somewhere.
Before he knew it, it had been two years. Two years of peace and yet here they remained.
Maybe they couldn't go home because this was their home now. Maybe they had made this place their own. Here they didn't have to hide. They were happy in their own way, working side by side, so did he really need anything else – any place else?
But somehow, he knew this was wrong, they didn't belong here. They needed to go home.
Confused, Xander stood looking out across the fields, smiling at the people working together, the children playing without prejudice, wondering if this was all there was for him anymore.
He found himself wrapped in strong arms and he sagged back into Angel's embrace.
"Stop thinking so hard," Angel whispered into his long sable curls.
"Can't help it," he answered, twining his fingers with Angel's. "Do you want to go home?"
Angel sighed softly. "This again?"
"Yeah. I can't help it. Shouldn't we have left by now?"
"It is peace you need," the Shaman grumbled from behind them.
Xander jumped at the unexpected man behind him. "I hate it when you do that!" he shouted. "I'm going to put a bell on you."
The familiar rumbling was as close to laughter as the Shaman got but it made Xander smile nonetheless. "We have peace," he protested.
"Peace not for us but for you."
"I'm not at peace?"
"Are you?"
The idea of peace - his own peace - had haunted him for days until finally he thought he understood. He needed to let these people go. They didn't need him anymore. He had been afraid to leave, thinking that once he left, they would return to the fight.
It was time to leave, to learn to stand on his own and to let them do the same.
Standing before the Shaman, he calmly stated, "I'm ready to go home."
They were instructed to strip, that their clothing would not make the trip, so that was how they ended up together, naked on a hill, facing each other.
"This will hurt," the Shaman stated as he held the sword of Acathla high in air.
Before they were impaled, Xander whispered, "See you on the other side."
It hurt. It hurt so much. He was hot and cold in turns. He could feel himself screaming but he heard nothing, just the sound of wind piercing his ears. Soon there was nothing but the sense of flying, of falling and then the hard, cold ground.
Some part of him recognized this place but his head was hurting, fuzzy and he couldn't think. He reached out blindly, calling for the only thing he could remember.
“Angel.”
~~~~The End~~~~
You *LIKE* Torture, Don't You?
Date: 2009-09-02 10:22 am (UTC)Huh.
Wasn't expecting that. ::head tilt:: Darn it, now I have more questions. *Did* they get back? Is the gang still there? If so, will they accept Xander and Angel's relationship? Is Sunnyhell still standing? Where's Spike? Dru? Did Giles discover the truth about the prophecies? Does Xander discover the peace he needs?
You know what this means. You're just gonna have to write what happens next. I mean come on - this is Xander and Angel. Happily every after doesn't seem to apply to those two.
It's been an interesting ride. Thank you.
ETA: *First!!*
Re: You *LIKE* Torture, Don't You?
Date: 2009-09-04 11:25 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting.
*hands you a cookie for being first*
no subject
Date: 2009-09-02 04:16 pm (UTC)Loved this story lots, hon, but really...MORE!
Gabrielle
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:26 pm (UTC)*hugs you*
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:30 pm (UTC)Gabrielle