He looked around listlessy. Buffy had already found her costume and left, but he was still here, still searching. At first he'd thought that he could go as a soldier, but then he'd watched several kids bawling around with their toyguns and suddenly he'd felt way to old for that.
What else was there? He flicked through the costumes. Vampire, devil, demon, vampirehunter... it was all to close for him to wear comfortably. He didn't want to dress up as a villain, but neither did he want to be a hero. Heros were walking targets in Sunnydale. No, he wanted to be something different, someone who was just himself. He stopped at one costume and frowned until he remembered the story behind it. Not a hero, but not a real villain either. Xander smiled. It was perfect.
Suddenly he was somewhere else. He whirled around, ready to fight, but while there was chaos around him, nobody seemed to want to kill him here. He didn't know if he should be happy about it. Sure, he'd escaped the lynchmob that was about to kill him, but he also had lost his one true love, had given her away freely so she could live a better, a happy life with all the things he couldn't give her.
He learned quickly why he was here, that he wasn't even real in this world, only a story, only a costume a boy had choosen. But he was real. He had a history and feelings and a soul. A damaged soul, but there was still hope for him yet. And with the sparsly information he had on this world, his hope grew.
A spell had brought him here, magic did exist, was working in this realm. He knew a lot of magic, had studied it for all his life, maybe it could help him stay here, when the spell was ended. He had no desire to go back to his own reality, where the mob would tear him appart in a few minutes. No, he wanted to stay here.
He started thinking furiously. There had to be a way.
When the bust of Janus was unfriendly introduced to the floor of the costumeshop, everyone reverted back to his or her normal self.
Everyone except Xander. His costume, in a desperate attempt of trying to not being send back to his reality, had merged with him.
It was very confusing. He'd both the memories of his life on the hellmouth and the memories of over fifty years of life in the late 19th century. He remembered his childhoods, one as a normal child and one as an outcast, he remembered everything, the magic, the music, the murders and the morphium. And her... God, he still could see every small detail of her face... It hurt to remember her.
His body had changed, too. Xander had been tall before, but now he almost reached 7 feet. The brown of his hair had become pitchblack and his formerly chocolate-brown eyes were now the color of amber and reflected the light, like cats eyes.
When he finally went home after all the chaos, he removed the costume in front of the mirror and looked... and smiled. When the two had merged, a lot of the damage had been repaired. His face looked human now, save for several faint scars, that he could live with. He was human now, with a human face.
Xander started to humm.
Maybe he should compose something. Something happier and more carefree than his last works.
He was free, finally free of his burden.
Xander knew that those where not really his memories, but he couldn't blame his other for his wish of survival, couldn't blame him for the merging of the two. When the music started to fill his head, he knew he'd made the right decision.
He only hoped that the other scoobies would take his merging with Erik similarly well. There was no way to undo it and even if there were, he wouldn't let them do it... if only to keep the music in his mind.
He closed the door behind him, leaned against it and let himself slide to the ground. This had been close, far too close to being an utter desaster.
Xander cleched his hands into fists and slammed them into the ground. He had known there would be difficulties, but he'd never expected this... this mess! It wasn't so much the fact that he's changed physically, but the mental differences that were causing him troubles.
Erik had been hunted his entire life because of his disfigured face, had been shunned from humanity and part of his life he had ben put on display like an animal. So of course he had certain habits and reflexes, that Xander had the devil of a time to suppress, not to mention rather hefty insecurities, a quick and violent temper and a rather anti-social behaviour.
There were things that Erik saw as normal, that Xander simply couldn't allow.
Yes, he did agree with Erik to never leave home without a weapon, though Xander's weapons of choice were the stake and the crossbow, while Erik preferred knives and the punjab-lasso, But while Xander used his weapons to defend himself and kill vampires and demons, Erik had no qualms about killing humans. He'd killed many humans, so that he could continue living in relative peace and since he didn't see himself as a part of humanity, he could kill them with as much remorse as Xander was feeling, when he killed demons.
So today, when they had gone to school, Xander had to stop his hand several times from dipping into his poket, pulling out the lasso and killing those that were insulting or even just teasing him.
The greatest desaster had happened in the libary. He had barely entered the room, when he had been attacked by Buffy. Buffy had believed him to be a bodythief, a hostile spirit, that had taken over Xander's body. Willow had been rather weepy, Giles had polished his glasses restlessly and Buffy had been adamant that her point of view was the right one.
When Erik hated something, it were selfrighteous people and his long and slender fingers had itched for his knives. One quick jab and everything would have been over for her. Only Xander's loyality towards her had saved her life today.
She had no idea how close she had been to final death, but from the way Giles eyes had widened, he was quite sure that the Watcher had realized the danger.
Erik sighed. He had a long way to go to earn the watchers trust. And Giles was important to Xander and thus, to him. In his old life, he'd never known his father, him having died before he had been born and Xander's birthfather was not a very good role modell. Giles was someone he could respect, someone he could take as a fatherfigure without loosing his pride or selfrespect.
But the watcher was weary of him. He knew that Erik was dangerous if he choose to and he was an unkown veriable in their group. If not for Xander he would never had a chance, but since the two were a merged pair the others had only one choice, either accept both or accept neither. And since Xander had been a core part of this group, they had only the choice to accept him along with Xander.
And only after he had told him about the Gypsie magic he had used, the magic that allowed a mind and soul to stay and merge with another, willing one, they had relented.
The fact that, in his subconciousness, Xander had accepted him and had allowed him to stay had made them back off a bit. Not all the way, but a bit.
Xander rubbed his head. He and Erik were tired. It had been a long and draining day and both only wanted to sleep right now. He hummed as he stripped and prepared for bed, thinking about all the subtle and not so subtle changes he had to bring through. Firstly he needed an instrument, a violin or a piano. An organ would be best, but it wouldn't fit into the house. Then Erik was very curious about all the changes that had happened in the last century, so books it was. A good thing that he still had his libary card. And finally he had to build himself an own life, far away from the drunken parents and the restraining neigbourhood. Erik and he weren't happy here, but only with Erik's help had he the courage to do something.
He slipped under the sheet and switched out the light. Tomorrow would be a long day.