darkhavens (darkhavens) wrote,

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'Lost and Found', a series of 7 for open_on_sunday's challenge #94 - Lost

Author: darkhavens
Title: Lost and Found
Pairing: Spike/Xander (and minor Giles/Ethan, Buffy/The Immortal, Faith/Robin)
Rating: R for death
Email: darkhavens@slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Lots of death, but not my boys - not permanently anyway ;o)


When Buffy died at the hands of the Immortal, Xander cried. He'd tried to get her to listen so many times but she never would. The stories he had to tell had come from Spike, after all, and she never quite believed it wasn't simple jealousy talking. The fact that he and Xander had been inseparable for years was brushed aside with the usual "I know vampires best, I was 'The Slayer' after all".

The Immortal, as it turned out, wasn't quite as immortal as he'd thought. Xander didn't need to hear the details. Spike's satisfied smile was quite enough.


The message they received at the hotel in Kathmandu was garbled, but just clear enough to terrify them both. It took a panicked late night call to England to be certain that the world wasn't about to end in a fiery hell. Unfortunately the news that they were given left them stunned. Willow had been caught up in a magic 'war' of sorts; two centuries of intra-coven feuding had been exposed. She'd tried to be the quiet voice of reason; even told about that nasty little turn she had herself in Sunnydale.

They never found enough of her to bury.

Faith and Robin

Their sacrifice was the stuff that legends are made of. The couple had closed the Cleveland Hellmouth for good, from the inside.

The call went out too late for reinforcements to arrive in time, though Spike and Xander were only in LA when they first heard.

By the time the plane had landed and they'd been driven to the site, the cleanup was already underway. The papers blamed the carnage on wild cats or feral dogs, and explained the disappearance of an entire city block with a solitary line about a long forgotten mine.

They gracefully declined to stick around.


Giles was killed by a heart attack. In bed. With Ethan Rayne.

They discovered at the wake that it wasn't his first. He'd sworn Ethan and Andrew both to secrecy on pain of death if they let slip that his condition wasn't great. He'd known the remaining Scoobies would have forced him to retire, and he loved his hand-built Council much too much to let it go. So instead he trimmed his hours, left the boring stuff to deputies, and concentrated on making sure his legacy would last.

They spent a drunken month in England swapping Ripper tales with Rayne.


Andrew passed the final exam on his seventh try and spent the night in tears, calling round the people he classed as family to let them know. He'd sobbed and sniffled to Xander for most of an hour before demanding that he pass the handset across the bed to Spike. He wilfully ignored repeated pleas of 'But I've already heard it all. Vampire senses here, remember, you soppy git?" And Spike had let him ramble on, aware of his near-worship of them both.

He was a Watcher for almost three whole months.

He was buried with his 'family' in attendance.


Spike listened, stunned, as Xander laid the whole thing out. He'd obviously thought long and hard about what he had to say.

They'd always thought it would come down to 'do or die' in the end - a lethal wound in battle, or an accident. They'd even discussed the vagaries of illness and disease, but never quite approached the somehow taboo subject of aging.

And now his love was telling him he wanted to be turned. He'd learned that with Spike there he could weather losses so profound he thought, alone, he'd surely break and die of grief.

Spike obliged.


Dawn was interred in Italy, in the mausoleum that held generations of her husband's regal family. The ceremony was held in the late afternoon, through to early evening. Her children, and their children, and even theirs turned out to say their fond farewells to the matriarch they'd all called Bit.

Spike and Xander watched from a nearby crypt as dozens of friends and relatives came to say goodbye. They watched as her eldest grandson picked his way between the graves, smiling as he approached.

"We hoped you would come. Bit spoke of you often. There is blood at the house..."


Pimping: Only 3 days left to sign up for "The Colour, Sound, and Random Object Spander Ficathon.".
Tags: btvs:other, btvs:s/x:misc

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