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The Champion
"Ow!"
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" Oz put down the rock and rubbed at the back of Xander's neck, where he'd managed to bash him.
"Well, let's see... YEAH!"
"It always looked simple on TV."
"What, braining and betraying your friend?"
Oz swallowed, his shaking hand dropped the rock and he pulled his knees in. "Yeah. All my lessons in violence are pretty much of the couch potato variety... that is, until lately."
Xander took a deep breath. He wanted to slug Oz or just leave him here, but his spider senses were telling him he'd hit gold with what Oz was concealing... not that his neck felt any better.
"Okay, talk. And after that, I expect a major neck rub!"
Oz laughed, and then the laughter was choked off by tears. Both boys ignored that.
"I don't know where to start... but I can't go back with you. I can't!"
Xander stared at Oz. There were only a few reasons why Oz couldn't return to one of the towns. None of them were good.
"So... what are you?"
"I'm a werewolf. Sometimes. You know, when there's a full moon?"
Xander nodded. "Explains why you survived so long as their--" he broke off, not sure how to say it.
Oz was playing with the rock he'd tried to brain Xander with. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Also, pretty sure I'm gay."
Xander swallowed. "Yeah, that's bad." He squeezed his eyes shut so he couldn't picture finding Jesse's body. After a minute he was back, and able to focus on Oz again... who had clammed up.
...
"Is that it? I mean, bashing me on the head because you're a gay werewolf... that's bad television, Oz."
"No. That's not it."
...
"Well?" Xander was getting crabby. Pulling story out of Oz was like eating rice with tweezers.
Oz stood, his thin body looked so frail that the endless prairie wind seemed like it could blow him away at any moment, like a pale bundle of bone, dried up into tumbleweed. His fingers were shaking as he opened the blanket, revealing a brown tuft of pubic hair and his soft sex. Xander opened his mouth to tell him off for offering himself, when Oz spread his legs and put a hand on his inner thigh, displaying a mark.
The brand of a traitor.
"Oh... Shit." Xander scrubbed his hair. Now his fingers were shaking.
"Go on, say it: tell me to go back to them: how I belong to them now because of what I've done."
"What have you done?" Xander's voice was as smooth and as fragile as ice.
"That town down there, for one: I'm the one who opened the gates to let the demons in," Oz whispered.
........
"Giles... what happened to you?" Spike didn't take the two leather and silver rings from Giles, who frowned, looking pissy. At least that hadn't changed.
"I'm not your Giles. Spike, I must say: you are dense."
"Oi! I managed to save your slayer from getting squashed and found us some digs."
Giles sighed, the sound hollow, as if he were an empty cadaver. It kind of gave Spike the creeps, though he was loath to admit it. "Look like you've been skipping some meals. How 'bout you come inside, and I'll set you up?"
"I don't have time to share bread and salt. Here, take these!"
Reluctantly, Spike took the bands. "What are they?"
"Something to fight the Horsemen with, when they find you."
"Well, that clears that mystery up," Spike quipped. "Can you tell me... where am I?"
"You made a wish to be with her, since you still think yourself worthy, so the universe conspired to send you to the slayer who most needed you."
"So... she's not my Buffy?"
"No. Christ, you're thick."
Spike growled, but didn't argue further. This Giles was on the menacing side, so who knew what he'd do if he got cranky. Best not to find out. "So what's with the Gandalf look?"
"Mind if I sit while I spell it out? I'm... tired." Giles went over to a stump of wood and sat down gracefully, spreading his dark woolen cloak. Spike noticed a faint tattoo of spirals across one side of Giles' cheek as well as a single silver earring sparkling in his left ear. He was a wee bit different from Sunnydale Giles, that's sure.
"Okay, spill..."
"You must protect Buffy."
"Doin' it."
"No, I should have said: protect her child. In the scheme of things, she doesn't matter. She's only a vessel."
"Say that again, and I'll have to hurt you!"
"Spike, don't bristle up like a tom cat. I went to a lot of trouble to ensure her pregnancy, and no, thanks for the flattering look of repulsion, I am not the father!"
"Thank balls for that. Who is?"
"You'll find out in time."
"Long as it isn't Angel. So this... alternative dimension. That's like when Kirk met his evil twin on Star Trek, right?"
"Star Trek?"
"Guess you didn't have much time for telly, what with the mage trip."
"I am a mage, yes." Giles stood. He rubbed a skeleton hand over his face. "I have to go. Only three got through, and I must keep the gate closed on the rest."
"Three?"
"The Horsemen."
"Oh. Sounds bad."
"The worst... They exist only to find her, and to kill her before she gives birth to her child."
Spike felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He didn't like this dimension much. No telly or comfy chair. It was all endlessly moving grass and sour-faced inhabitants.
"Spike: this world belongs to the demons. Here, the slayers are losing. Do you understand?"
Spike nodded. He'd had a sense of that. "There's so much I don't follow. Why that woman treated Buffy the way she did... and how come I haven't met myself here? Don't I have a twin... uh, brother, or whatever?"
"You do," Giles picked up his staff.
"So where is he... I mean, me?"
"You are dead in this dimension, of course." Giles said.
...
"Put the bands on only when you must: their power signature will draw the Horsemen to you otherwise."
"Why me, Giles?"
"Because you are her once and future champion." Giles put a hand on Spike's shoulder, a familiarity which spoke of last stands and brothers in arms. It gave Spike the willies. "Protect her, no matter what. And believe in yourself. You are her destined champion. Her child must live. The fate of not only our world, but the many worlds relies upon it..."
"How do I kill these horsemen?"
"You can't," Giles said unhelpfully. "But I'm sure I can trust you to improvise."
"Giles, wait!" Spike yelled as Giles' figure rippled, devoured by white flames. Then disappeared, leaving Spike with more questions than answers and a burning fear in his gut.
Giles was wrong.
The universe was wrong.
He wasn't worthy.
He wasn't her champion.
.......
She woke up when he returned, and he saw she'd been sick again in the pail he'd left for her. He found himself at her bedside, kneeling there like her knight, which he knew was ridiculous. "I'll get you some water," he said. He reached out and stroked the hair back from her face.
No one will hurt this girl, he thought.
"Thanks... I don't know why you're so nice to me, but..." her voice trailed off, and he saw under all her fire a familiar weariness. One girl in all the world.
He got up, got her water, and held her up so she could drink it. "I dreamed something was coming. Something bad. And they took my baby." Her hands rubbed her tummy.
"Shhhh. Back to sleep. Just a dream, pet."
"I still don't know if I trust you," she grumped.
He smiled, and watched as her eyes fluttered closed and she fell back into her dreams. He hoped they'd be happier.
Her hand was still clasped in his. Somehow she'd forgotten to pull it away, back to herself.
"No one will hurt you or your baby, Buffy," Spike whispered.
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