I'm a fan of your writing style. I think you do a good job of 'showing, not telling' and keeping characters IC and developing blank slates (Jack for example). Your ideas are also pretty interesting, so that's a plus too.

[X] Steven Universe/Kingdom Hearts

I've never seen this crossover before, and I'm interested in seeing how you'd do it. Haven would be my second choice

I'd also like to see more of Never Alone in the future.
 
Green Mother Pt 2 (Young Justice)
Green Mother Pt 2

Arkham Asylum
July 20th



"Heya Pammy!" Watcha doing?" A cheerful voice called out much too close to her ear. She gave a yelp and a half-hearted glare as she turned to meet the blonde's unapologetic smile.

"How many times must I tell you not to do that."

"Just enough for it not to be enough. Now, what's this?" Even as she asked the questions the woman's finger was sliding the top paper into view.

"Harley," Pamela started firmly, hand slapping away her friends. "Don't touch that."

"Visitation papers?" The confusion was just as clear in her voice as her curiosity, "Are actually gonna to try to talk to your parent's again Pammy?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Though is she was honest, that might not have been too bad of an idea. As much as she loathed to admit it… No, no, she was not going to go down that path. She didn't need them when she was growing up and she didn't need them now.

"Then who's it for?"

"I rather not talk about it here Harl." The rec room was as crowded as usual and in a room filled with the criminally insane she would rather not risk an eavesdropper. Who knows what they would do with even the bare bits of this information, especially the so-called 'masterminds'.

"Aww, but this is the only time we can talk!" It was also the only place where Pamela could get a writing surface that wasn't covered in dirt. "C'mon, pwease Pammy." The pout she shot at the redhead was resolve crushing.

Even at that very moment, when she had had herself at her most determined, she felt herself on the edge of just blurting it out. To just tell her friend the miraculous news. That's what one was supposed to do when they had that kind of news… Right? Share it with you closest friend and blather on happily over it.

She chewed on her lip as she pondered and continued to resist to what Harley must have seen as the inevitable. But this was Arkham, home to insane metahumans and mad men she did not want anywhere near her son. No matter how 'invulnerable' her supposedly was.

"No." She said as firmly as she could as she hurriedly finished the paperwork, hunching over so Harley couldn't see her writing down the name Superboy.

If she was a bit honest with herself she felt more than a little silly filling out the forms she was. Pamela wasn't even sure if he would visit, but she wanted that little bit of hope. To keep the door open so that someday, maybe, hopefully, he would come.

"Aww, c'mon. Pwease, Pammy, Pwease?" Did she really have to bat her eyelashes like that?

"Harl, please." Her voice sounded pained even as she snapped at her friend loud enough to make the blonde flinch back and draw a guard's attention, "Not now."

"Okay, okay." Harley said with raised hands, "Whoever this is I'm guessin' they're important to you."

"He is." And she hoped she would be important to him too.

"Oooh, a he? And here I thought you swung the other way."

"Ugh."



-0-0-0-0-
Mount Justice
July 21st



He liked Mount Justice.

It was large enough that he had a place to be alone even when it seemed to be milling with people. It wasn't quiet, things were never quiet for someone with his senses, but not being around people allowed him to… zone out better. To think clearer.

It would have been better if he could be outside but it was late and the sun was down. The outdoors didn't appeal to him as much without the sun. A sight he still felt amazed each time he experienced it.

And he knew it was because of more than just his Kryptonian abilities absorbing in the sunlight.

It meant freedom, or at least the promise of it.

He just didn't really know what to do with said freedom, or with himself. He knew what he was programmed to do. What he was conditioned. What he was made for. But he wasn't sure that's what he wanted to be.

He had power, great amounts of it, but he had no idea what to do with it.

… Maybe if he had some guidance. Someone to show him the way, to show him what he could be. How to use his powers for more than just smashing things.

He had hoped Superman could be that person for him, but the man hasn't come to talk to him yet. It hurt more than he would care to admit.

"Superboy, report to the Waterfall Lounge." Batman's voice buzzed irritably from the intercom unnecessarily. They should have known they could have just yelled anywhere in the building and would have heard them. Still, he complied, leaving his room with barely a huff.

When he arrived at the lounge he found not only Batman there waiting for him but Black Canary and the Flash.

"What's going on." Superboy all but demanded with crossed arms and squinted eyes. He still wasn't all that good at asking questions.

"Superboy," Black Canary started, her voice gentle as she gestured towards a chair. "Maybe you should take a seat."

He looked at the offered chair and then back to her before turning to the man he was sure would answer his question. "Why am I here."

Batman's face showed nothing but he gestured to the monitor on the wall, a gesture of his hand brought it to life with displays of medical reports and graphs. He recognized some of the data, mostly because it dealt with him.

From what he could tell the data was mostly lists of his biometric data during both his gestation period and his day-to-day life sign from once he was deemed to have grown enough. At first glance, it seemed like basic information but there had to be a reason they were showing him.

Batman noticing both his confusion and mounting annoyance calmly began to explain what it all meant. "After careful analysis of data retrieved from Cadmus we discovered that you are not Superman's clone, at least not entirely."

His arms came uncrossed, "What!?" That couldn't be right. He was Superman's clone. He was made to replace Superman if the time came… Or to defeat him if the worst happened. How could he do that if he wasn't the man's clone?

Undeterred by the outburst Batman continued, "According to their files the Cadmus team could not fully decipher, and therefore copy, Kryptonian DNA. In response they decided to fill in the missing sequences with material they had gathered from other Metahumans, one's that would complement the Kryptonian heritage… The Flash could explain the process more in depth for you if you would like"

Superboy flexed his fist as he continued to stand, almost wishing he had taken Canary's suggestion to take a seat before they broke the news to him. He shook his head, missing Flash's comment as he tried to straighten his mind.

"Who is it." His fist clenched with his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. Maybe this person could be what he was looking for. A guide, someone to show him just how to navigate the new world he felt suddenly tossed into. A helping hand to pull him up and keep him steady as he struggled to understand… everything.

Canary broke in before Batman could answer, "Superboy, before we tell you I want you to keep in mind that you are more than what your genetics make you." He stared at her with wide eyes, mind turning as he tried to imagine all the ways her words could be construed. Of why she would give him that sage piece of advice before the big reveal. "I also want you to keep in mind that she wants to meet you, she's willing to reach out if you are."

"Who is she." He wasn't trying to ask anymore, he wasn't even going to pretend to. He was demanding. They couldn't keep this from, they shouldn't, not even for a second more.

"Pamela Isley," Batman said, regarding the clone steadily as he let the name settle into his mind. "Better known as Poison Ivy, current resident at Arkham Asylum."

He felt numb.


AN:
People made the right request at the right time. Young Justice Season 3 is coming soon and I shall binge it when it comes. For now enjoy this and hopefully I'll have more of it soon… ish.
 
12/13. Xander's Zanpakuto (Bleach/Buffy)
Two old story ideas with near identical concepts, which do you think is better?

Pieces of Me
<hr/>
Buffy was gone.

She just upped and disappeared. Right after she sent that bastard to hell she leaves.

He gave her some sympathy since he understood on some level what she was going through, a certain mummy girl would always cross his mind when he thought about the "star-crossed lovers" thing Willow kept on going on and on about. From where he stood they never ended well.

That was beside the point. Buffy left them, and they couldn't keep up with even the low summer population. If Oz wasn't a werewolf he was sure the guitarist would be sporting at least a broken leg and arm. Willow stayed out of most the action, serving as carefully used bait most of the time. He himself was sporting more than his fair share of bruises and scrapes.

They needed a front liner, a real one. Not a little boy that got his ass tossed aside like a piece of confetti when fighting a fledgling.

So while Giles was away the Xander will play with his off limits books.

He couldn't read most of them but he doubted even Giles knew every weird symbol in the world. Almost to prove that theory Xander found plenty of books oriented to translating words were littered throughout various shelves. From experience he knew how long it took to translate even a page from any foreign tome... and apparently half the time it was busy work Giles gave them... but doing so still bore fruit. At least for Willow and Giles it did, but that night he was going to find a nice juicy apple or so help him... okay he was probably going to do nothing but he'd be pissed.

For a moment he slowed down in his selection to choose which language he knew best to try. While obviously English was the language he knew the best there were few in Giles "Forbidden Section" that were written in that language, besides that they rarely had the juicy stuff in them. Then there was Latin and more recently Japanese.

He was sure that Giles gave the Japanese translation task because of how difficult all the slants and curves were, not to mention all the different writing style the language had. But the joke was on Giles when Xander started to take to the language like a duck to water. Not so much from a natural talent as the he Wanted to learn the language. He's seen enough anime and read enough manga to actually grow an interest.

He still got confused on some parts and words but he was sure he was getting the hang of it.

So, making his decision Xander grabbed a random book in Japanese script and a translation book just in case he misread a swipe and sat down for a long read. He never read the books all the way through, he learned how to scan the chapters for the content he was looking for long ago.

So he had quickly swept through seven books and found nothing that peeked his interest. Most of the information in the book involved demons and how to kill them, making them worthless to him at the moment. But mid-way through his eighth book he found something interesting.

He wasn't sure he was translating it right but it seemed to say Slayer Soul Sword, give or take. And hey if it had the word Slayer in it, it should be of the good. So with that train of thought in mind he scavenged the library looking for the necessary components for the ritual. The ritual itself seemed fairly simple, a little irksome at some parts but he was pretty sure he could do it.

To be honest he was still wary of magic on various levels, if not because of the spells cast on him than because of the spell he mucked up. He had learned his lesson though, maybe not the one Ms. Calendar, whatever she worshipped rest her, or Giles wanted to put across to him or not, but he learned. Intent can affect a spell just as easily as an ill placed ingredient. Wanting revenge while performing a love spell was just asking for trouble. But if his intent was to protect the town and his friends then whatever ritual he was about to try should work, right?

Gathering what he could from the weapons case and supply closet Xander re-read the instructions. "Damn, can't do that here... the school cafeteria maybe..."

The best part of being at Sunnydale high right before dusk in the summer was that there was nobody around, not even Snyder. And it was easy to break into, pathetically so.

When he entered the school kitchen he placed the cutlass he was carrying with him on the stove's burners. Turning on the flames and allowing them to heat the metal while Xander went on to find the last of his needed materials. A ring of salt in the middle of the floor, a picture of water, and a kitchen knife.

Taking a deep breath Xander took off his shirt and re-checked the kanji script to see if he had to do what he was about to do. He may be missing a few words but it was obviously an important part of the ritual. Steeling himself he took the knife and made a rather impressive slash over his heart. "Ack!" Biting back the pain he stepped over to the stove and retrieved the sword. The handle was uncomfortably warm to the touch and the blade blackened from the heat. Moving purposely he made his way to the center of the salt circle and poured the water over the blade, causing it to drip and steam.

Raising the now wet blade and pointing it towards his heart he did his best to sound sincere when he introduced himself to the blade, like the instructions said to "Hello, my name is Xander... What's yours?" And with that the droplets of hot water hit his bleeding wound. It was a simple ritual but a very dangerous one, something Xander should have realized if he was a little more patient or a understood Japanese just a little better.

In honesty the ritual he had found was from an out of date Japanese warrior sect that took being one with their sword to another level. They were effective but fell out of use when more people came out insane or died during in the ritual rather than empowered.

And if he understood the language better he might have prepared himself for the searing pain that ripped through his body as soon as the steamed water touched his blood. A mute scream reached his lips as the salt surrounding him started to lift off the ground, grain by grain, in a green mist. The green powder swirled around him and compressed around the blade like it was trying to crush the metal. The powder shifted a moment later and started to bridge the gap between Xander and the sword, pouring into his wound like an hour glass.

Despite his pain Xander could feel something in him... shift and pull towards the sword, crossing over the bridge of salt with ease. When whatever left him completed its trip the salt started to separate, half closing his wound and the rest melding with the sword giving it a new shape.

When the last of the grains disappeared it signaled the end of the ritual and the magics that had been employed released Xander, causing him to stumble across the floor.

Gasping for breath Xander recited a few strings of curses like they were holy scriptures. "That better have worked" He finally managed before looking at the reworked sword in surprise, "What the?" No longer could the sword be called a cutlass. Its new shape more resembled a bastardized mix of a machete and a gladius. The curved handle fit comfortably in his hand as he held the sword up at a new angle to examine it. "This is so cool."

He stood fully and gave it a few practice swings. Laughing he attempted to do some more complex maneuvers and found himself amazed, as not only did the sword not fall out of his hand but he could FEEL the patterns the sword wanted to move.

It was amazing! It was like he was one with the sword and the sword was one with him. While he didn't know how much help it would be against the vampires he knew sure as anything that he would be a hundred times better than before as long as he had this sword.

<hr/>
The next night he was proven right. Willow had hacked into the coroner's network again and found three possible risers just waiting for them. They had waited eagerly, okay he waited eagerly, for the first vampire to rise. Pacing back and forth in front of the grave with his sword hidden crudely in his jacket.

When the fledgling finally did decide to appear Xander was getting aggravated and yelled, "Finally!" Attacking before the creature even had a chance to fully dig out of its grave. It s screamed as the now mystic blade sliced easily through its dead flesh.

For a split second it didn't know whether to retreat back into its grave or try to rush forward. Maybe if it stayed as Jim Hacket it would have tried to retreat back into the grave for shelter but now it was a vampire and the power was getting to its head. So it rushed out from its grave, fangs bared fiercely and in an instant had its eye slashed out.

"GUAH!" It screamed bending over by instinct as it grabbed its wounded eye, leaving its neck exposed for the magical blade to cut through. Xander cheered as the dust and ash settled, barely noticing his companions shocked expressions.

"Xander... What was that?" Willow managed to ask

"Me, kicking ass." Xander cheered, "Where was the next one supposed to appear?"

"Lot c, row 6, Michel Dawhare." Oz replied, letting his girlfriend take care of the interrogation.

"Tally ho!" Xander called out pointing his sword in the needed direction.

"Xander, you know what I meant." Willow complained as she followed "It's never that easy to kill a vampire, well not for us anyway. So I'll ask again, and you better tell me the truth mister, what was that?"

Xander was about to make another quip but the stern pressure of the Resolve Face bored in on him making him squirm where he stood. "I... may have done a little spell..."

"You did a spell!? After what happened last time!" Willow yelled in the closest way she could to a snarl. She was still angry about his last try at magic, she was close to forgiving him but not quite there.

"Hey! I only messed that up because I was focused on revenge not lust or love!" He defended his screw up but winced at the hot and cold glares he was getting from his two companions "Anyway, this one worked, see?" He said presenting his sword. "It's a Zanpakto, roughly translated to Slayer Sword."

Willow calmed herself enough to let her scholastic curiosity get the better of her as she studied the sword. Even to her admittedly untrained and inexperienced eyes she could tell the sword was masterfully crafted. The metal was a deep silver color that had been shaped into deadly curved blade that ended with an abrupt point. It was simple but strangely beautiful.

What she did know, due to her limited skill in magic, was that the blade was enchanted, heavily so. One wouldn't notice it unless they really tried, the enchantments were rather passive and... suppressed, which was odd. "Did you do it right? It seems off, suffocated?"

"I better have done it right," He mumbled remembering the pain before continuing, "It feels right Wills."

"So... What does it do?" Oz asked from the side.

"It kills demons." Xander said simply.

"Yeah but how?" He asked just as simply.

"Actually that's a good question, what is it enchanted to do Xander?"

"Uh... Kill demons?"

"Yeah but how? Does it have a heat or purification enchantment, or something like that?" Willow asked as she dug through her lacking knowledge of magic, a rather annoying lack.

"Sword plus one?" Oz added

"Uh... The book didn't really say how, just that it kills demons good" He used the hilt of the sword to scratch the back of his head in an apparent sheepish gesture. "I'm better with Katakana than the kanji script it was written in but it said something like "Pressure of spirit to kill impure"... give or take a word or two."

"That... makes no sense."

"But it kills demons oh so good!" Rubbing his check lovingly against the short sword.

<hr/>
It had been a week since he got his new sword and each night he would get a vivid dream, or part of one. They were mostly of a voice calling out to him, muffled by white noise and thundering bangs. But that night his dream approached a whole other level.

Hot humid heat filled the night air as he found himself in an over grown graveyard that stretched further than his eyes could see. Grass grew pass his ankles and trees bulged out of the ground enough off set tomb stones. Above him stars tangled themselves into unfamiliar constellations.

All in all, an off but beautiful setting in its own right. Didn't stop him from jumping at shadows though and he wasn't even jumping at the right ones.

The sound of a lighter flickering to life made him jump and twisted his head to the source of the sound. "About time you got here kid." A darkened figure said from underneath the tree, the only thing giving a vague reference to his form was the lit cigarette between his teeth. "Been waiting a while to talk to your dumb ass."

"I respond with a hearty, Hey!" Xander said in his false bravado. Something the figure instantly picked up on and snorted.

"Sure, whatever, kid. Now onto business." The figure leaned against his tree and took a deep drag. "Simply put we're a shitty match."

"Uh, What?" Xander asked confused, "And I'll add in a few more Ws, as in Where am I and who are you?"

A sigh filled with smoke exited the figure's mouth, "You're a stupid little brat aren't you?" The figure eventual ground out with strained emotions, "You have no idea what you've done or what I represent, what this place represents, do you?" He didn't even let Xander answer "Of course not. You just keep on stumbling into shit not thinking anything through. Don't even try to deny it kid, I know you, I AM you."

"Uh... what?"

Another drag of the cigarette was taken, "You should have read the damn instructions more carefully kid. You split your fucking soul for a fancy demon cutter."

"WHAT!?"

"Would you shut up and listen" The man barked, making Xander shrink by sheer instinct. The figure shifted a bit at that, in annoyance at both the boy's habit and himself for causing it, "When you did that spell you took part of your soul and put it into sword."

"I did what?" He asked weakly, not really believing what he did to himself. He was sick of the idea of what Willow and Buffy almost casually did with Angel's immortal soul and now, he broke his own.

"Don't worry, I'm still attached. Just in a new carrying case." The figure actually sounded amused by Xander's panic. "If I have my guess right I'm the parts of you that were influenced by that Soldier on Halloween and just from that I can tell we're going to be a shit match."

"Wait? What, Why?" Xander asked still not fully understanding what was going on around him.

"You'll never be able to hear my name kid, never feel my power, because you're too much of a damn goof." His voice sounded cold and resentful as he spoke, "You showboat your new 'Toy' around like you're a fucking king and when you're not doing that you act like you're trying to be a goddamn knight in shining armor. With the way you are now you'd probably never understand the way I work and never hear my name. Hell you probably don't even know why your mind looks like this, what it means!"

"What is with you and this name crap?!"

"My name is ME!" The figure replied harshly "It's my power, my strength, things I could lend to you. Something that is out of reach for your dumb ass. We have to earn my name but you probably can't even hear a whisper as you are now."

"Oh yeah? Try me."

"Fine, my name is," what could be best called a shattered buzzing filled his ears. Xander stared at the shadowed man confused but the figure just snorted, "Figures, can't even hear a sound. Get out of my sight."

Xander abruptly woke up with the mild surprise of having his sword resting on his lap.

<hr/>
-0-0-0-

Xander had related what he knew to Willow and Oz as soon as he could, telling them all he could pick out from what he was told and asking what he should do. Willow just sat there mouth opened for a while, while Oz just shrugged taking everything in stride, "Ask him?"

"But he's an ass!"

"He's you."

"... Damn you Oz."

So he tried, feeling rather stupid talking to a sword. "Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot but um, how can I learn your name?"

A split second later he got a response. "He just told me to go fuck myself..."

Oz snorted, "Seems like a nice guy."

"Shut up Oz"

<hr/>
-

AN:
Anyway, the focus on this fic would probably center around the Summer of Buffy's absence and Xander trying to figure out what his sword's problem was with him. By my interpretation of the Shingami/Zanpakto relationship is that the sword represents the warriors utter most ideals, ex: duty, power to protect, blind justice, ect and Xander is being forced to take a long hard look at himself to see what his is.

Anyway, tell me what you think and peace.

Redemption through Vengeance
Willow Rosenberg had the potential to become a powerful witch, a very powerful witch.

She had just begun her magical training and already she had reserves that would make most master practitioners green with envy. If only her first spell was not such a dark a curse.

Magic at the best of times was a temperamental tool and mistress and it was not the best of times. For one Willow's state of mind was not in the most pristine conditions for a number of reasons. One of the top reasons being that she failed. She failed to help her friend but completing what she viewed as spell for good that could have reunited Buffy with her star crossed love. But now the Blonde had to go and kill the thing that was wearing her loves face.

The budding witch could only hope that Xander could make it in time to stop her.

The spell may have knocked her into a coma last time but she knew she could get it right the second time. She knew she could help her friend.

And if she had used a spell that may have been true. But unfortunately she used a curse. The most violent and emotionally powered form of magic one could find and cast. And that wasn't even adding to the fact that she had such piss poor control of her magic she was more dropping a bomb in the general area instead of the usual sniper shots magi prefer to apply.

So not only was she just letting the magic land in the general vicinity of the Angel's mansion she was letting her emotions do the targeting. A curse often chooses the victim by following who the caster was the most agitated at, be it annoyed or hatred it followed that line of dislike straight to the source. Usually that was fine since the one that agitated the caster was often the one they wanted to harm.

Once again the unfortunate occurred. The one she was most agitated with was not Angelus, as surprising as that was, but one Xander Harris. There were a number of reasons for that, the first and foremost was the still receding ache of heart-break and betrayal. Not only wasn't her near lifelong crush not with her but with a hussy that did nothing but make his life miserable. And then there was the fact that he didn't believe she could or even should do the spell, sticking by his belief that Angeleus should be staked not ensouled.

Didn't he see how much the very idea was hurting Buffy? How every time that bastard who wore her loves face killed an innocent or taunted her she broke a little more inside?

Couldn't he see how hard it was for Buffy? Or was it that his jealousy of Angel having the Slayer's love too much for him? And if so he need to grow up.

And so after she let the bombshell of magic land above Angel's Mansion, with a little help from an ancient Gypsy Spirit, the soul torn from its final rest once again was forced to follow the line of aggression into a foreign body.

<hr/>
Xander stumbled forward as he carried Giles to safety. His body suddenly becoming heavier and unknown emotion swirled in his mind. Blind panic and fear spread through him but it felt... off. Like it wasn't his own. But as suddenly as those off putting emotions came that faded away. Buried underneath his own thoughts and emotions.

"Weird" he managed to mumble before realizing Giles was still hurt and started to rush to the hospital.

<hr/>
He felt it. A familiar vertigo.

The feeling of reaching a near absolute content and then falling. Falling only to be stuffed into a crowded jar.

He panicked as his fear seeped in. He remembered the last time he felt that vertigo. Those sick nauseating memories earned with pleasure by a monster who wore his face. The uncontrollable feeling of guilt and loss. He couldn't go through with that again. He couldn't handle that again.

But this time was different. When he entered the earthly vessel he wasn't washed over with bloodlust. He was feeling... worry? It wasn't even worry for himself, but worry for another.

For a split instant he could see something, a glimpse of the street moving below him and a bleeding man in his grip. At first he felt fear, did he get his soul back while Angeleus was feeding? No, that couldn't be it, he felt too weak, too tired and his arm was hurting something fierce.

As soon as the question "What's going on" crossed his mind he found himself being pushed down. The glimpse of sight he gained disappearing as he fell into a dark abyss. Drowning into a sea of words and forgotten emotions, swirling down the proverbial drain. Eventually dropping him into an unfamiliar terrain.

For a split moment he hazarded a chance to look around at his surroundings and found them disturbing enough to yell "Where the hell am I!?"

<hr/>
Xander had stayed at the hospital, not really knowing what else to do. Giles was hurt and he couldn't just leave the man there. The last time they did that to one of their own Buffy ended up killing an invisible demon.

Besides that Willow was there, which, at the moment, was uncomfortable and double edged. Sure he wanted to see her, to make sure she was alright but what if she asked about the spell? He didn't even know if it worked and to be honest he wasn't sure it would have. She was knocked into a coma last time and she jumped right back at the damn thing when she woke up.

Bits of guilt started to rise up from his belly but he instantly squashed any and all feelings of regret. The Soldier Influence, as he liked to call it, made him much firmer in his decisions. Making him realize, or at least think, that it was a tactical necessity. She had let that monster live for long enough, claiming friends and classmates as usual victims just to get a rise out of her. If she really loved Angel than she would have kill that, that, THING that was wearing his face.

To him letting Angeleus run around was an insult to Angel's memory, whether he liked the creeper or not.

Eventually his worry over ran his guilt and he made to stand up, only to have his world spin and force him back into the waiting room chair. "What the?" he asked out loud trying to remember how hard he hit his head at the library. Hard enough to be knocked out for a few hours and a concussion but should it still be messing with his head?

Xander tried to shake himself awake as darkness started to seep in from the corners of his vision. Again he struggled to stand only to fall back into the chair, his breaths uneven from the strain. What was happening to him?

"Sir? Excuse me sir?" someone called out as they made their way over to him. "Are you alright." He tried to respond but words wouldn't form and his blurry vision could barely make out the nurse asking him the question "Sir? Did you hurt your nose?"

Xander managed to shake his head and wonder why she asked such a silly question. He got his answer a moment later when he felt little droplets fall from his chin and strained his pants red.

The nurse called out for somebody after she asked him to stand, his legs barely wobbled. A moment later an orderly came over with a wheel chair and managed to move him over.

Again as his consciousness began to fade Xander had to wonder what was happening to him.

<hr/>
Buffy walked into the hospital knowing of little else where to go. Her mother had kicked her out of her house and all her friends were at the hospital in various stages of injury. And though she knew it was selfish she wanted someone to cry on.

Yes she knew they were all hurting in their own way from Angeleus but... she still loved the man that wore that face. And to see it contort in pain as she pushed the Holy blade through his chest and kick him into hell hurt her more than she ever thought it would. She knew what Angeleus was, a mockery of Angel but she couldn't help it. If Angel had been a human when she fell in love with him than maybe she could have done it sooner but no she fell in love with a vampire. And that translated to her making a number of exceptions and excuses in her mind to be with him.

Which made it all the harder to stake him when she had the chance.

Her only condolence was that she was finally able to do it, ending that monster permanently. If only she didn't wait so long.

Regret and sorrow flooded through her as she walked passed reception and towards Willow's room, totally ignoring the familiar looking patient being pushed passed her.

<hr/>
Angel walked along the grounds with a big question still hanging over his head. Where was he?

Because it sure wasn't Heaven and if it was Hell than the good book painted it wrong. Because he didn't see any hellfire or tortured souls. This place looked more like an old playground that somebody tried renovating into a graveyard, or vice versa. Old rusted slides and jungle gyms stood next to over grown tombstones. In all honesty it creepy enough to make him prefer the fire.

And even the tombstones were odd. Many didn't even have name just things like "The one I couldn't save" or "That poor little girl". There were similar phrasing on most and a few sporadic names every now and then but Angel still had no clue where he was.

He walked along a roughly beaten path and eventually found himself at a memorial of sorts that held three statued tomb stones. Two of which looked very familiar.

Jesse McNally, A Brother that should have been saved.

Jenny Calendar, A friend that shouldn't have been left behind.

Kendra, A girl who needed a friend and we weren't there for her.

Emotions whirled through Angel as the names sunk in. Jenny and Kendra were dead? What happened? What was going on?

An almost forgotten sensation started to pound against his chest. Shocked out of his former stupor he placed a hand over what seemed to be his live beating heart. So shocked by the number of events he barely registered a voice growling out "Angeleus!"

Angel was forced to turn around as a fist slammed into the back of his skull. Years of experience had kept him on his feet but he stumbled more than he liked. Where ever he was he was practically human there and had little of the strength he was used to. Turning his head the former vampire saw a familiar angered face.

"Harris?" No, it looked like him, it looked a lot like him but different. First off his hair wasn't brown, well there was brown but it was peppered like spots on his new unnaturally tan colored hair. And his clothes weren't his usual style. Gone were his brightly colored shirts and beat up jeans, instead he wore what appeared to be a full body camo suit and military boots.

Hell the only thing he could say that belonged to Harris was the face and even that was a mutation of how it usually was. No smile, no fear covered by cocky jokes, just stern feral anger.

"I don't know how you got here but you will regret it" The Harris look alike said, eyes flaring something inhuman as it eased into a militarized combat stance.

The boy didn't say more as he charge setting the ex-vampire off balance. Angel may not have had his super strength any more but he had years of fighting experience before and after he became a vampire. But he was off balance, unused to fighting without his enhanced senses or reflexes. Sure the super strength would be nice but without his superior senses it was like he was fighting deaf with one eye.

His olden styled boxing guard shattered by professional work, breaking the arm in a strange lock and pushing Angel off his balance. Just more proof that whoever he was facing wasn't Xander. this wasn't how the kid fought. Xander was clumsy and spouted corny jokes for a distraction. This guy fought simply, effectively, and brutally. Especially brutally, it was almost savage how he attacked.

"What's wrong Angeleus? Feeling sick?" The Not Harris asked mockingly as he started to circle around "Buffy must've taken more out of you then I thought."

Angel tried not to wince when he moved his arm "I'm not Angeleus." He spat as he tried to turn and face his offender, only to get a knee to the gut.

"Yeah" He snorted "Like I'm going to believe that crock. I knew Buffy should have staked your ass last year when you were still just a pussy."

And that definitely wasn't how Harris spoke. Okay, a little but even he wasn't that crass.

This was more... concentrated. Unfiltered.

It was a sad day when Angel missed any version of Xander Harris.

"If I was Angeleus don't you think I would have killed you by now?" He pointed out "Or that maybe I would have shown my 'game face'"

The Not-Harris paused to think before shrugging "Brat wasn't feeling so well a little while ago so I'm going off on a limb and say we're dead and you're Deadboy's soul" Angel let out a sigh of relief but was quickly sent staggering back by another punch "Which means I'm just beating up a pedophile now."

<hr/>
When Buffy entered the hospital room she expected condolences and worried questions. Hell she even expected congratulations from Xander if he was there. But he wasn't and all she got was an excited Willow asking if it worked.

"Did what work?" The Slayer asked a bit stunned.

"The spell" She exclaimed looking tired and frazzled "Did the spell work?"

Buffy titled her head to the side, acting in a state of calm she wasn't really feeling. "What spell?"

"You know, the soul spell!" She clarified "I think it worked this time... No, I know it worked. I could feel... something flow through me."

"We can vouch for that" Oz said from his corner while Cordelia only managed a, "It was Creepy"

Understanding that her friend tried the spell one more time for her the girl shook her head "No. He was Angeleus till the end."

"B-but" The redhead stuttered "It worked! I felt it!"

Buffy felt a pang of worry for a moment that maybe, just maybe she sent Angel to hell. But then she remembered those hateful golden eyes and fanged lips that cursed her as he fell into hell. "It didn't work Will"

Willow seemed aghast by this "It worked! I know it did!"

"It wasn't him Willow!" Buffy finally snapped, her shoulder's shaking from suppressed emotions. "Angel wouldn't try to kill me. Angel wouldn't hurt me. Angel wouldn't call me those, things" She spat out the last word in pure distaste at Angeleus' vulgar taunts. "You know what his last words were to me? Not "I love you" or "Why?" but "You bitch". So yeah Willow I'm pretty sure it wasn't him!"

Buffy gave a sniffle as she tried to restrain her tears. Maybe coming to the hospital was a bad idea after all.

There were no comforts here, just more heart ache.

She moved to leave but a gentle hand from Oz stopped her. He said something to excuse Willow for her unthoughtful words and asked her to stay. She did, taking a chair a way from a now remorseful red head. She tried to restrain it but eventually her silent sobs come along with salty tears.

<hr/>
Consciousness slid slowly back to Xander. Filling him with an odd anticipation, like going up the hill of a rollercoaster.

And just like a rollercoaster that slow paced instantly disappeared as he seemingly slammed back into his body, back into place. He felt himself... shift where he stood, his feet unconsciously realigning to suit his weight and posture. It took only a moment for him to realize he had awakened standing up.

His eyes didn't even adjust to the light, he just appeared in the strange graveyard like he had been there for a few minutes. "Uh, what just happened?"

His voice rang through the grounds like a giant bell catching the other two occupants attention. One standing, the other bleeding in its grips.

"Tch. You're here? How annoying." The standing figure said as he dropped bloodied figure and started to walk away "Guess we're alive though. That's good." Whoever it was walked weird, like he was unwillingly restraining himself and was just waiting for the word 'GO' to unleash himself.

Though Xander ignored that as he rushed over to the victim. A habit now he guessed. Buffy would take care of the aggressor while he and Willow checked on the would be snack. "Hey, you alright?"

"Xander?"

Ah, fuck "Angeleus!"

The man on the ground groaned out "Not again."

<hr/>
The boy lurched forward suddenly causing one of the nurses to yelp and forcing two of the orderlies to wrestle him back down.

"Geez, kid's stronger than he looks" One grumbled out before taking a whap to the face.

"Someone sedate him already!"

<hr/>
Contrary to popular belief most people in Sunnydale knew the truth of the world on some level. They knew that there was something wrong with their little city after dark, they could feel the hungry eyes on them as they passed the shadows.

Why any of them stayed in Sunnydale none of them really knew. Maybe it was because that terrifying little city was their home? And maybe because they didn't want to be pushed away by something they couldn't explain?

Or maybe, there was something dark about more than one of the 'normal' populace.

Or they could all just be fools. Again nobody really knew.

But one thing was for sure, the medical staff of every hospital, clinic, doctor's office in Sunnydale knew something was up. Either through the odd injuries some of their patients come in with or by the fact that their blood banks are routinely broken into.

And Sunnydale General knew a bit more than any of them. After all they patched up the ones dealing with the 'problems' the most.

And every single member of the staff was proud of it. Sure they were ashamed that a bunch of kids and a librarian were protecting them but they couldn't argue with results

The death toll has nearly halved in the recent year.

So of course when news that at least two of their protectors were hospitalized members of the staff were just lining up to help.

And when a third one fell ill, in their own waiting room no less, the staff started to get worried. Exactly what did they face this time that left them in such a state?

What terrifying thing could they have stopped this time?

Did it really matter? After all they were all still alive and it wasn't their job to worry about it, it was their job to patch them up after.

And keeping them informed was just another part of the job. Or so the nervous nurse told herself as she entered the room to do just that.

"Um, excuse me?" Four heads shot up to look at her, doing nothing for her nerves "You four are acquainted with Alexander Harris correct?"

Anyone who was only giving her half an ear stopped and listened intently and started demanding answers. "Um, uh," She didn't know how to react. The people who fought demons and other such darkness were yelling at her. It was a little scary "He was found in the waiting room with a bleeding nose and losing consciousness. He was rushed to examined by one of the doctors when he started to convulse."

"What's wrong with him?" Willow demanded, straining to get out of the bed.

"Um, we aren't too sure. We want to get MRI or Cat scan to see if it's a concision gone very wrong but he won't stop moving."

"Where is he."

The nurse eyed the blonde girl wearily "We placed him in 205, the room next to Mr. Giles." Her eyes darted to the side "For convince sake."

Cordelia was the first to really move, exiting out the room shortly after Buffy's Slayer speed rush. Willow was only slowed down by the need for Oz's support.

<hr/>
This Xander he was familiar with. Crack a few weak jokes, go in for a haymaker punch, grapple for those moments when he couldn't get a hit in.

Basically the suicidal usual he would use on demons and vampires that worked at best two-thirds of the time. Making him multiple times easier to deal with than the other Xander.

Easier being Angel landed a few hits and get some distance, even if he wasn't injured he could tell he wouldn't win. Xander's defense was always willing to accept more punishment and every hit that he landed was hard enough for a vampire to at least feel.

Knowing this hurt Angel's ego a bit, as he had always viewed himself as Xander's better.

"Xa-" Pow, right to the chest. Why were all his hits aimed there? ... Oh, right, vampires, hearts, "Xander! Wait! I'm not Angeleus!"

"Yeah right."

God, he wished he didn't have to breathe again "If I was Angeleus do you really think you would be winning!?"

Just like with the other Xander that stopped him flat, unlike the other Xander he stopped at one punch after realizing the truth. "Still don't like you."

"Noted." God, he forgot how much it hurt to be human.

"So where are we?"

"Not a clue." Angel said after a pained breath "I just woke up here and started to look around." And got his ass kicked, twice. Though he wasn't going to really count the second one, two fights in a row after all. No one could blame him.

"Well, there is someone else here, so find and ask him?"

Angel hid his flinch well and managed a nod. He didn't like it but it was their only option.

<hr/>
Both orderlies in the room slacked in relief when Xander did the same. His limbs no longer flailing around and slamming into everything.

With a breath and a sore cheek one of the orderlies came up with a plan of action, "Alright. You get the doctor, tell him Harris has calmed down and I'll keep an eye on him... restrain him too" After getting a nod from his colleague the impromptu leader started to pull the overly used Sunnydale restraints out from their place.

As he started to strap the sleeping boy down the door burst open, which was the first hint it wasn't a doctor. The second being the girl who charged in couldn't be more than five foot or older than seventeen.

She took one look at the scene, pinned him with a glare, and was in front of him as soon as he ended a blink. "What are you doing." It was a demand for an answer not a question, accompanied by a little hand nearly crushing his larger one mid task.

"Strapping him down in case of more spasms." He said trying to be professional and keep himself from flinching in pain. But when there was just a smidgen more pressure he quickly added more information "So he doesn't hurt himself."

"Buffy would you just chill and let the guy do his job?" Cordelia said as she barley took the scene, more focused on getting to her sorta boyfriend's side. Giving his hand a firm squeeze as she took a seat near the bed.

Buffy gave him a glare but let go to let him do his job.

Oz and Willow entered the room almost simultaneously as when the orderly finished the last restraint. "What's wrong? Why is Xander being tied up?"

The hospital worker for his own safety quickly repeated what he told the blonde. His hand was still sore.

"Okay, but what's WRONG with him?"

He shrugged "No clue. The doctor should be here soon to find out though." He really wanted out of the room, he hated being on night shift.

He took one last cautious look at the blonde before he left, which got him a brief glare, and made him wish all the more for morning only shifts.

<hr/>
As Angel walked through the twisted playground he started to feel better. Wounds not aching as much, scrapes stopped bleeding, bruises not even getting the chance to turn blue. He was grateful for it but it made him wonder all the more, was he now human or something else?

The two forced upon companions talked to break the seemingly ever-present silence that seemed to blanket the landscape. They talked about a few speculation of where they were and how they got there. Xander spouted at least a dozen different comic book theories and at this point Angel was willing to accept he was in some creepy mirror world.

Eventually the silence was broken by something other than their voices. A click of steel against flint, the sound of embers burning and deep inhale.

The two quickly followed the sound to the source and found their target just as let out a large exhale of smoke. Xander was struck stupid as he stared at a near mirror image of himself sitting on top of a vine covered and rusting jungle gym. He just sitting there as peaceful as you please looking at the perpetual twilight of wherever they were smoking a cigarette.

He barely gave them a glance as they entered his area, he just tsked went back to his sky watching.

The two men shared a rare glance wondering how to approach the situation. Eventually Xander decided to step up and get the man's attention, which Angel was grateful for. The guy did try to beat him to death after all.

"Uh, excuse me? Sir?"

The man's eyes lulled to look at Xander, "What?"

"Uh, we were kind of wondering, hoping, that you could tell us where we are?"

The man snorted, "If you haven't figure that out already you're dumber than I thought."

Xander let out a hearty "Hey!" while Angel wondered if that insult included him.

Taking another puff the Xander clone looked at them like he was debating their worth, "No clue at all? Really? Does a single thought even go through your mind?"

While Angel was glad to see he wasn't the only one who hated this version of Harris he interrupted Xander's next comment, "Look, we just want to know where we are and how we got here, and frankly you're our best bet."

The man was quite for a moment, just enjoying his cigarette as he stared down at them. Frankly it was annoying the hell out of them.

Finally when he did speak he pointed at Angel with the glowing tobacco, "Don't know how YOU got here but the kid could always come here... Technically, I guess he always here but that is some semantic bullshit I don't want to cover."

"Uh... What?"

Sighing the man started to tap his temple repeatedly, drawing out each word like he was talking to a particularly dumb dog, "We're, in, your, head."

Xander stared dumbly at him for a few seconds with Angel right behind him. Eventually the American teen managed another, "What?"

The apparent resident of Xander's mind mumbled, "Dumbass." and flicked the still burning cigarette at the boy and jumped down. While Xander started to rapidly pat himself down as if it had set him on fire the man repeated the statement, "I said we're in your head. How you two got here I don't know but I want the pedophile gone."

Xander winced as even he wouldn't go so far as to say that... to Angel's or Buffy's face. Or even out loud actually. Seemed like too much of a cheap shot.

Angel for his part just wondered why the other Harris kept on calling him that. In his day Buffy should have already been married off, he knew times have changed but not by that much, right?

"I don't even know how we got here much less kick someone out!" Xander yelled in exasperation before narrowing his eyes, "And if we're in my head who are you?"

The man snorted, "Isn't it obvious or are you just too dumb to tell?"

"Again with the put downs, just answer the question already."

The man sighed and mumbled something before he started to tick off a few fingers, "Hint one, I'm wearing some random ass military uniform. Hint two, I have spotted hair and fucking pointed teeth. Hint three, I'm in your head. Who am I?"

"Uh."

"Gah!" The man started to ruffle his hair in exasperation, "God! How can someone as stupid as you be Alpha!?"

"Hey!" Seriously this guy loved to hurt Xander's ego.

The man stood up completely straight and jabbed his finger painfully into Xander's chest, "I am the Influence of what the Hyena and Soldier did to you. I'm what's left of the things that fucked with your head."

At that Xander took a few steps away from the angered man.

He could see the traits of both of them in the man now. Animalistic and focused, a true hunter, a true killer.

And at two points in time stole his freedom from him at the deepest level.

Angel noticed the sudden fear in Harris and quickly decided that it wasn't a good sign.

"Oh, would you two relax. The kid's the Alpha, I have to listen to what he says," The snarl on his face quickly turned into a feral grin, "For now."

"And that does nothing to make me feel better."

The Influence just shrugged, as if, and he probably didn't, care. "Not my problem. My problem is how to get the creeper out of here. I can barely take your company much less his." He said as he nudged his head towards Angel.

Angel scowled at the... he could only guess if man still applied but he scowled at him none the less. The insults were getting old. "And how do we do that?" He asked ignoring the insult for since he wanted to get out of there as much as the Influence seemed to want him gone.

He received another shrug and sneer, "Not sure. Best guess? Wake him up."

"And how do we do that? I don't see a Starbucks around here." Xander managed to quip before receiving a rather hard hit to the back of the head.

As he lost consciousness and started to feel all the lighter as he got closer to the ground he heard a mildly surprised voice say "Huh, that worked?"

<hr/>
The room jerked in surprise as Xander's body rose with a startled yelp. The half asleep group flailing to keep themselves from falling to the ground, or in one case punching what surprised her.

"Xander!" Willow half cheered as she reoriented herself and dove for him.

Xander for his part just blinked and grunted as she slammed him against the bed in a hug. He looked around the room and linked some more as memories and facts returned to him.

Going to the mansion, lying to Buffy about the spell, taking Giles to the hospital, being unable to get up from his chair, finding Angel and the Influence guy in his head.

Dots started to connect in his head as he sorted through the information and he didn't like where it led.

Willow said she was going to try the spell again and he suddenly has Angel in his head.

A guy he hated was in his head because his best friend screwed up, could anyone blame him for being angry?

And normally few probably would but at the moment Xander was having a rather uncommon problem. For you see when a person has a strong enough soul, and very many times this translates to a powerful magi, they can exert their power upon the world.

And while Xander's soul was in the above average range he alone wasn't strong enough to cause such an effect. But if in addition to his own he had an over two century old soul within him that is a completely different story.

The 'weight' of his soul could be felt in the room with his rising anger, momentarily choking the occupants as Xander glared down at his best friend, "Get him out of my head!"

A green aura started to flicker and wisp around him before it all came to screeching halt as Buffy's fist made contact with his forehead.

Xander's groggy eyes held an angered defiance till the last second before he succumbed to the concussed knock out.

As his head fell back into the pillow all of them had a similar thought in mind but only one voiced it.

"What the hell was that?" They were pretty sure it was Cordelia.



AN:
The crossover for this story is Bleach, with Angel acting as Xander's Zanpaktou (A sword empowered by a spirit/soul). The story itself would go over both Xander and Angel's reasons for fighting the supernatural, besides Buffy, hence the title and how to use the strength of souls, as you got a glimpse of, while trying to work together.

The Influence that you saw was my original idea for the sword but I figured it might be more interesting to have him act as the Hollow (instinct that will try to take over).
 
I figured it out! I figured out my greatest weakness as a writer!

Its the endings! I can't think of endings! Beginnings come rather easily to me and the middle is always fun but the endings, the goal, is what I've been missing! It's like that second piece of bread I needed to complete my delicious sandwich!

And now that I know and recognize this I can SEE the progression of my ideas! Of how my stories should flow!

Unfortunately this means some of my ideas will need to be gutted and rearranged but in the end this will just make them stronger/better!
 
Two old story ideas with near identical concepts, which do you think is better?

Pieces of Me
<hr/>
Buffy was gone.

She just upped and disappeared. Right after she sent that bastard to hell she leaves.

He gave her some sympathy since he understood on some level what she was going through, a certain mummy girl would always cross his mind when he thought about the "star-crossed lovers" thing Willow kept on going on and on about. From where he stood they never ended well.

That was beside the point. Buffy left them, and they couldn't keep up with even the low summer population. If Oz wasn't a werewolf he was sure the guitarist would be sporting at least a broken leg and arm. Willow stayed out of most the action, serving as carefully used bait most of the time. He himself was sporting more than his fair share of bruises and scrapes.

They needed a front liner, a real one. Not a little boy that got his ass tossed aside like a piece of confetti when fighting a fledgling.

So while Giles was away the Xander will play with his off limits books.

He couldn't read most of them but he doubted even Giles knew every weird symbol in the world. Almost to prove that theory Xander found plenty of books oriented to translating words were littered throughout various shelves. From experience he knew how long it took to translate even a page from any foreign tome... and apparently half the time it was busy work Giles gave them... but doing so still bore fruit. At least for Willow and Giles it did, but that night he was going to find a nice juicy apple or so help him... okay he was probably going to do nothing but he'd be pissed.

For a moment he slowed down in his selection to choose which language he knew best to try. While obviously English was the language he knew the best there were few in Giles "Forbidden Section" that were written in that language, besides that they rarely had the juicy stuff in them. Then there was Latin and more recently Japanese.

He was sure that Giles gave the Japanese translation task because of how difficult all the slants and curves were, not to mention all the different writing style the language had. But the joke was on Giles when Xander started to take to the language like a duck to water. Not so much from a natural talent as the he Wanted to learn the language. He's seen enough anime and read enough manga to actually grow an interest.

He still got confused on some parts and words but he was sure he was getting the hang of it.

So, making his decision Xander grabbed a random book in Japanese script and a translation book just in case he misread a swipe and sat down for a long read. He never read the books all the way through, he learned how to scan the chapters for the content he was looking for long ago.

So he had quickly swept through seven books and found nothing that peeked his interest. Most of the information in the book involved demons and how to kill them, making them worthless to him at the moment. But mid-way through his eighth book he found something interesting.

He wasn't sure he was translating it right but it seemed to say Slayer Soul Sword, give or take. And hey if it had the word Slayer in it, it should be of the good. So with that train of thought in mind he scavenged the library looking for the necessary components for the ritual. The ritual itself seemed fairly simple, a little irksome at some parts but he was pretty sure he could do it.

To be honest he was still wary of magic on various levels, if not because of the spells cast on him than because of the spell he mucked up. He had learned his lesson though, maybe not the one Ms. Calendar, whatever she worshipped rest her, or Giles wanted to put across to him or not, but he learned. Intent can affect a spell just as easily as an ill placed ingredient. Wanting revenge while performing a love spell was just asking for trouble. But if his intent was to protect the town and his friends then whatever ritual he was about to try should work, right?

Gathering what he could from the weapons case and supply closet Xander re-read the instructions. "Damn, can't do that here... the school cafeteria maybe..."

The best part of being at Sunnydale high right before dusk in the summer was that there was nobody around, not even Snyder. And it was easy to break into, pathetically so.

When he entered the school kitchen he placed the cutlass he was carrying with him on the stove's burners. Turning on the flames and allowing them to heat the metal while Xander went on to find the last of his needed materials. A ring of salt in the middle of the floor, a picture of water, and a kitchen knife.

Taking a deep breath Xander took off his shirt and re-checked the kanji script to see if he had to do what he was about to do. He may be missing a few words but it was obviously an important part of the ritual. Steeling himself he took the knife and made a rather impressive slash over his heart. "Ack!" Biting back the pain he stepped over to the stove and retrieved the sword. The handle was uncomfortably warm to the touch and the blade blackened from the heat. Moving purposely he made his way to the center of the salt circle and poured the water over the blade, causing it to drip and steam.

Raising the now wet blade and pointing it towards his heart he did his best to sound sincere when he introduced himself to the blade, like the instructions said to "Hello, my name is Xander... What's yours?" And with that the droplets of hot water hit his bleeding wound. It was a simple ritual but a very dangerous one, something Xander should have realized if he was a little more patient or a understood Japanese just a little better.

In honesty the ritual he had found was from an out of date Japanese warrior sect that took being one with their sword to another level. They were effective but fell out of use when more people came out insane or died during in the ritual rather than empowered.

And if he understood the language better he might have prepared himself for the searing pain that ripped through his body as soon as the steamed water touched his blood. A mute scream reached his lips as the salt surrounding him started to lift off the ground, grain by grain, in a green mist. The green powder swirled around him and compressed around the blade like it was trying to crush the metal. The powder shifted a moment later and started to bridge the gap between Xander and the sword, pouring into his wound like an hour glass.

Despite his pain Xander could feel something in him... shift and pull towards the sword, crossing over the bridge of salt with ease. When whatever left him completed its trip the salt started to separate, half closing his wound and the rest melding with the sword giving it a new shape.

When the last of the grains disappeared it signaled the end of the ritual and the magics that had been employed released Xander, causing him to stumble across the floor.

Gasping for breath Xander recited a few strings of curses like they were holy scriptures. "That better have worked" He finally managed before looking at the reworked sword in surprise, "What the?" No longer could the sword be called a cutlass. Its new shape more resembled a bastardized mix of a machete and a gladius. The curved handle fit comfortably in his hand as he held the sword up at a new angle to examine it. "This is so cool."

He stood fully and gave it a few practice swings. Laughing he attempted to do some more complex maneuvers and found himself amazed, as not only did the sword not fall out of his hand but he could FEEL the patterns the sword wanted to move.

It was amazing! It was like he was one with the sword and the sword was one with him. While he didn't know how much help it would be against the vampires he knew sure as anything that he would be a hundred times better than before as long as he had this sword.

<hr/>
The next night he was proven right. Willow had hacked into the coroner's network again and found three possible risers just waiting for them. They had waited eagerly, okay he waited eagerly, for the first vampire to rise. Pacing back and forth in front of the grave with his sword hidden crudely in his jacket.

When the fledgling finally did decide to appear Xander was getting aggravated and yelled, "Finally!" Attacking before the creature even had a chance to fully dig out of its grave. It s screamed as the now mystic blade sliced easily through its dead flesh.

For a split second it didn't know whether to retreat back into its grave or try to rush forward. Maybe if it stayed as Jim Hacket it would have tried to retreat back into the grave for shelter but now it was a vampire and the power was getting to its head. So it rushed out from its grave, fangs bared fiercely and in an instant had its eye slashed out.

"GUAH!" It screamed bending over by instinct as it grabbed its wounded eye, leaving its neck exposed for the magical blade to cut through. Xander cheered as the dust and ash settled, barely noticing his companions shocked expressions.

"Xander... What was that?" Willow managed to ask

"Me, kicking ass." Xander cheered, "Where was the next one supposed to appear?"

"Lot c, row 6, Michel Dawhare." Oz replied, letting his girlfriend take care of the interrogation.

"Tally ho!" Xander called out pointing his sword in the needed direction.

"Xander, you know what I meant." Willow complained as she followed "It's never that easy to kill a vampire, well not for us anyway. So I'll ask again, and you better tell me the truth mister, what was that?"

Xander was about to make another quip but the stern pressure of the Resolve Face bored in on him making him squirm where he stood. "I... may have done a little spell..."

"You did a spell!? After what happened last time!" Willow yelled in the closest way she could to a snarl. She was still angry about his last try at magic, she was close to forgiving him but not quite there.

"Hey! I only messed that up because I was focused on revenge not lust or love!" He defended his screw up but winced at the hot and cold glares he was getting from his two companions "Anyway, this one worked, see?" He said presenting his sword. "It's a Zanpakto, roughly translated to Slayer Sword."

Willow calmed herself enough to let her scholastic curiosity get the better of her as she studied the sword. Even to her admittedly untrained and inexperienced eyes she could tell the sword was masterfully crafted. The metal was a deep silver color that had been shaped into deadly curved blade that ended with an abrupt point. It was simple but strangely beautiful.

What she did know, due to her limited skill in magic, was that the blade was enchanted, heavily so. One wouldn't notice it unless they really tried, the enchantments were rather passive and... suppressed, which was odd. "Did you do it right? It seems off, suffocated?"

"I better have done it right," He mumbled remembering the pain before continuing, "It feels right Wills."

"So... What does it do?" Oz asked from the side.

"It kills demons." Xander said simply.

"Yeah but how?" He asked just as simply.

"Actually that's a good question, what is it enchanted to do Xander?"

"Uh... Kill demons?"

"Yeah but how? Does it have a heat or purification enchantment, or something like that?" Willow asked as she dug through her lacking knowledge of magic, a rather annoying lack.

"Sword plus one?" Oz added

"Uh... The book didn't really say how, just that it kills demons good" He used the hilt of the sword to scratch the back of his head in an apparent sheepish gesture. "I'm better with Katakana than the kanji script it was written in but it said something like "Pressure of spirit to kill impure"... give or take a word or two."

"That... makes no sense."

"But it kills demons oh so good!" Rubbing his check lovingly against the short sword.

<hr/>
It had been a week since he got his new sword and each night he would get a vivid dream, or part of one. They were mostly of a voice calling out to him, muffled by white noise and thundering bangs. But that night his dream approached a whole other level.

Hot humid heat filled the night air as he found himself in an over grown graveyard that stretched further than his eyes could see. Grass grew pass his ankles and trees bulged out of the ground enough off set tomb stones. Above him stars tangled themselves into unfamiliar constellations.

All in all, an off but beautiful setting in its own right. Didn't stop him from jumping at shadows though and he wasn't even jumping at the right ones.

The sound of a lighter flickering to life made him jump and twisted his head to the source of the sound. "About time you got here kid." A darkened figure said from underneath the tree, the only thing giving a vague reference to his form was the lit cigarette between his teeth. "Been waiting a while to talk to your dumb ass."

"I respond with a hearty, Hey!" Xander said in his false bravado. Something the figure instantly picked up on and snorted.

"Sure, whatever, kid. Now onto business." The figure leaned against his tree and took a deep drag. "Simply put we're a shitty match."

"Uh, What?" Xander asked confused, "And I'll add in a few more Ws, as in Where am I and who are you?"

A sigh filled with smoke exited the figure's mouth, "You're a stupid little brat aren't you?" The figure eventual ground out with strained emotions, "You have no idea what you've done or what I represent, what this place represents, do you?" He didn't even let Xander answer "Of course not. You just keep on stumbling into shit not thinking anything through. Don't even try to deny it kid, I know you, I AM you."

"Uh... what?"

Another drag of the cigarette was taken, "You should have read the damn instructions more carefully kid. You split your fucking soul for a fancy demon cutter."

"WHAT!?"

"Would you shut up and listen" The man barked, making Xander shrink by sheer instinct. The figure shifted a bit at that, in annoyance at both the boy's habit and himself for causing it, "When you did that spell you took part of your soul and put it into sword."

"I did what?" He asked weakly, not really believing what he did to himself. He was sick of the idea of what Willow and Buffy almost casually did with Angel's immortal soul and now, he broke his own.

"Don't worry, I'm still attached. Just in a new carrying case." The figure actually sounded amused by Xander's panic. "If I have my guess right I'm the parts of you that were influenced by that Soldier on Halloween and just from that I can tell we're going to be a shit match."

"Wait? What, Why?" Xander asked still not fully understanding what was going on around him.

"You'll never be able to hear my name kid, never feel my power, because you're too much of a damn goof." His voice sounded cold and resentful as he spoke, "You showboat your new 'Toy' around like you're a fucking king and when you're not doing that you act like you're trying to be a goddamn knight in shining armor. With the way you are now you'd probably never understand the way I work and never hear my name. Hell you probably don't even know why your mind looks like this, what it means!"

"What is with you and this name crap?!"

"My name is ME!" The figure replied harshly "It's my power, my strength, things I could lend to you. Something that is out of reach for your dumb ass. We have to earn my name but you probably can't even hear a whisper as you are now."

"Oh yeah? Try me."

"Fine, my name is," what could be best called a shattered buzzing filled his ears. Xander stared at the shadowed man confused but the figure just snorted, "Figures, can't even hear a sound. Get out of my sight."

Xander abruptly woke up with the mild surprise of having his sword resting on his lap.

<hr/>
-0-0-0-

Xander had related what he knew to Willow and Oz as soon as he could, telling them all he could pick out from what he was told and asking what he should do. Willow just sat there mouth opened for a while, while Oz just shrugged taking everything in stride, "Ask him?"

"But he's an ass!"

"He's you."

"... Damn you Oz."

So he tried, feeling rather stupid talking to a sword. "Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot but um, how can I learn your name?"

A split second later he got a response. "He just told me to go fuck myself..."

Oz snorted, "Seems like a nice guy."

"Shut up Oz"

<hr/>
-

AN:
Anyway, the focus on this fic would probably center around the Summer of Buffy's absence and Xander trying to figure out what his sword's problem was with him. By my interpretation of the Shingami/Zanpakto relationship is that the sword represents the warriors utter most ideals, ex: duty, power to protect, blind justice, ect and Xander is being forced to take a long hard look at himself to see what his is.

Anyway, tell me what you think and peace.

Redemption through Vengeance
Willow Rosenberg had the potential to become a powerful witch, a very powerful witch.

She had just begun her magical training and already she had reserves that would make most master practitioners green with envy. If only her first spell was not such a dark a curse.

Magic at the best of times was a temperamental tool and mistress and it was not the best of times. For one Willow's state of mind was not in the most pristine conditions for a number of reasons. One of the top reasons being that she failed. She failed to help her friend but completing what she viewed as spell for good that could have reunited Buffy with her star crossed love. But now the Blonde had to go and kill the thing that was wearing her loves face.

The budding witch could only hope that Xander could make it in time to stop her.

The spell may have knocked her into a coma last time but she knew she could get it right the second time. She knew she could help her friend.

And if she had used a spell that may have been true. But unfortunately she used a curse. The most violent and emotionally powered form of magic one could find and cast. And that wasn't even adding to the fact that she had such piss poor control of her magic she was more dropping a bomb in the general area instead of the usual sniper shots magi prefer to apply.

So not only was she just letting the magic land in the general vicinity of the Angel's mansion she was letting her emotions do the targeting. A curse often chooses the victim by following who the caster was the most agitated at, be it annoyed or hatred it followed that line of dislike straight to the source. Usually that was fine since the one that agitated the caster was often the one they wanted to harm.

Once again the unfortunate occurred. The one she was most agitated with was not Angelus, as surprising as that was, but one Xander Harris. There were a number of reasons for that, the first and foremost was the still receding ache of heart-break and betrayal. Not only wasn't her near lifelong crush not with her but with a hussy that did nothing but make his life miserable. And then there was the fact that he didn't believe she could or even should do the spell, sticking by his belief that Angeleus should be staked not ensouled.

Didn't he see how much the very idea was hurting Buffy? How every time that bastard who wore her loves face killed an innocent or taunted her she broke a little more inside?

Couldn't he see how hard it was for Buffy? Or was it that his jealousy of Angel having the Slayer's love too much for him? And if so he need to grow up.

And so after she let the bombshell of magic land above Angel's Mansion, with a little help from an ancient Gypsy Spirit, the soul torn from its final rest once again was forced to follow the line of aggression into a foreign body.

<hr/>
Xander stumbled forward as he carried Giles to safety. His body suddenly becoming heavier and unknown emotion swirled in his mind. Blind panic and fear spread through him but it felt... off. Like it wasn't his own. But as suddenly as those off putting emotions came that faded away. Buried underneath his own thoughts and emotions.

"Weird" he managed to mumble before realizing Giles was still hurt and started to rush to the hospital.

<hr/>
He felt it. A familiar vertigo.

The feeling of reaching a near absolute content and then falling. Falling only to be stuffed into a crowded jar.

He panicked as his fear seeped in. He remembered the last time he felt that vertigo. Those sick nauseating memories earned with pleasure by a monster who wore his face. The uncontrollable feeling of guilt and loss. He couldn't go through with that again. He couldn't handle that again.

But this time was different. When he entered the earthly vessel he wasn't washed over with bloodlust. He was feeling... worry? It wasn't even worry for himself, but worry for another.

For a split instant he could see something, a glimpse of the street moving below him and a bleeding man in his grip. At first he felt fear, did he get his soul back while Angeleus was feeding? No, that couldn't be it, he felt too weak, too tired and his arm was hurting something fierce.

As soon as the question "What's going on" crossed his mind he found himself being pushed down. The glimpse of sight he gained disappearing as he fell into a dark abyss. Drowning into a sea of words and forgotten emotions, swirling down the proverbial drain. Eventually dropping him into an unfamiliar terrain.

For a split moment he hazarded a chance to look around at his surroundings and found them disturbing enough to yell "Where the hell am I!?"

<hr/>
Xander had stayed at the hospital, not really knowing what else to do. Giles was hurt and he couldn't just leave the man there. The last time they did that to one of their own Buffy ended up killing an invisible demon.

Besides that Willow was there, which, at the moment, was uncomfortable and double edged. Sure he wanted to see her, to make sure she was alright but what if she asked about the spell? He didn't even know if it worked and to be honest he wasn't sure it would have. She was knocked into a coma last time and she jumped right back at the damn thing when she woke up.

Bits of guilt started to rise up from his belly but he instantly squashed any and all feelings of regret. The Soldier Influence, as he liked to call it, made him much firmer in his decisions. Making him realize, or at least think, that it was a tactical necessity. She had let that monster live for long enough, claiming friends and classmates as usual victims just to get a rise out of her. If she really loved Angel than she would have kill that, that, THING that was wearing his face.

To him letting Angeleus run around was an insult to Angel's memory, whether he liked the creeper or not.

Eventually his worry over ran his guilt and he made to stand up, only to have his world spin and force him back into the waiting room chair. "What the?" he asked out loud trying to remember how hard he hit his head at the library. Hard enough to be knocked out for a few hours and a concussion but should it still be messing with his head?

Xander tried to shake himself awake as darkness started to seep in from the corners of his vision. Again he struggled to stand only to fall back into the chair, his breaths uneven from the strain. What was happening to him?

"Sir? Excuse me sir?" someone called out as they made their way over to him. "Are you alright." He tried to respond but words wouldn't form and his blurry vision could barely make out the nurse asking him the question "Sir? Did you hurt your nose?"

Xander managed to shake his head and wonder why she asked such a silly question. He got his answer a moment later when he felt little droplets fall from his chin and strained his pants red.

The nurse called out for somebody after she asked him to stand, his legs barely wobbled. A moment later an orderly came over with a wheel chair and managed to move him over.

Again as his consciousness began to fade Xander had to wonder what was happening to him.

<hr/>
Buffy walked into the hospital knowing of little else where to go. Her mother had kicked her out of her house and all her friends were at the hospital in various stages of injury. And though she knew it was selfish she wanted someone to cry on.

Yes she knew they were all hurting in their own way from Angeleus but... she still loved the man that wore that face. And to see it contort in pain as she pushed the Holy blade through his chest and kick him into hell hurt her more than she ever thought it would. She knew what Angeleus was, a mockery of Angel but she couldn't help it. If Angel had been a human when she fell in love with him than maybe she could have done it sooner but no she fell in love with a vampire. And that translated to her making a number of exceptions and excuses in her mind to be with him.

Which made it all the harder to stake him when she had the chance.

Her only condolence was that she was finally able to do it, ending that monster permanently. If only she didn't wait so long.

Regret and sorrow flooded through her as she walked passed reception and towards Willow's room, totally ignoring the familiar looking patient being pushed passed her.

<hr/>
Angel walked along the grounds with a big question still hanging over his head. Where was he?

Because it sure wasn't Heaven and if it was Hell than the good book painted it wrong. Because he didn't see any hellfire or tortured souls. This place looked more like an old playground that somebody tried renovating into a graveyard, or vice versa. Old rusted slides and jungle gyms stood next to over grown tombstones. In all honesty it creepy enough to make him prefer the fire.

And even the tombstones were odd. Many didn't even have name just things like "The one I couldn't save" or "That poor little girl". There were similar phrasing on most and a few sporadic names every now and then but Angel still had no clue where he was.

He walked along a roughly beaten path and eventually found himself at a memorial of sorts that held three statued tomb stones. Two of which looked very familiar.

Jesse McNally, A Brother that should have been saved.

Jenny Calendar, A friend that shouldn't have been left behind.

Kendra, A girl who needed a friend and we weren't there for her.

Emotions whirled through Angel as the names sunk in. Jenny and Kendra were dead? What happened? What was going on?

An almost forgotten sensation started to pound against his chest. Shocked out of his former stupor he placed a hand over what seemed to be his live beating heart. So shocked by the number of events he barely registered a voice growling out "Angeleus!"

Angel was forced to turn around as a fist slammed into the back of his skull. Years of experience had kept him on his feet but he stumbled more than he liked. Where ever he was he was practically human there and had little of the strength he was used to. Turning his head the former vampire saw a familiar angered face.

"Harris?" No, it looked like him, it looked a lot like him but different. First off his hair wasn't brown, well there was brown but it was peppered like spots on his new unnaturally tan colored hair. And his clothes weren't his usual style. Gone were his brightly colored shirts and beat up jeans, instead he wore what appeared to be a full body camo suit and military boots.

Hell the only thing he could say that belonged to Harris was the face and even that was a mutation of how it usually was. No smile, no fear covered by cocky jokes, just stern feral anger.

"I don't know how you got here but you will regret it" The Harris look alike said, eyes flaring something inhuman as it eased into a militarized combat stance.

The boy didn't say more as he charge setting the ex-vampire off balance. Angel may not have had his super strength any more but he had years of fighting experience before and after he became a vampire. But he was off balance, unused to fighting without his enhanced senses or reflexes. Sure the super strength would be nice but without his superior senses it was like he was fighting deaf with one eye.

His olden styled boxing guard shattered by professional work, breaking the arm in a strange lock and pushing Angel off his balance. Just more proof that whoever he was facing wasn't Xander. this wasn't how the kid fought. Xander was clumsy and spouted corny jokes for a distraction. This guy fought simply, effectively, and brutally. Especially brutally, it was almost savage how he attacked.

"What's wrong Angeleus? Feeling sick?" The Not Harris asked mockingly as he started to circle around "Buffy must've taken more out of you then I thought."

Angel tried not to wince when he moved his arm "I'm not Angeleus." He spat as he tried to turn and face his offender, only to get a knee to the gut.

"Yeah" He snorted "Like I'm going to believe that crock. I knew Buffy should have staked your ass last year when you were still just a pussy."

And that definitely wasn't how Harris spoke. Okay, a little but even he wasn't that crass.

This was more... concentrated. Unfiltered.

It was a sad day when Angel missed any version of Xander Harris.

"If I was Angeleus don't you think I would have killed you by now?" He pointed out "Or that maybe I would have shown my 'game face'"

The Not-Harris paused to think before shrugging "Brat wasn't feeling so well a little while ago so I'm going off on a limb and say we're dead and you're Deadboy's soul" Angel let out a sigh of relief but was quickly sent staggering back by another punch "Which means I'm just beating up a pedophile now."

<hr/>
When Buffy entered the hospital room she expected condolences and worried questions. Hell she even expected congratulations from Xander if he was there. But he wasn't and all she got was an excited Willow asking if it worked.

"Did what work?" The Slayer asked a bit stunned.

"The spell" She exclaimed looking tired and frazzled "Did the spell work?"

Buffy titled her head to the side, acting in a state of calm she wasn't really feeling. "What spell?"

"You know, the soul spell!" She clarified "I think it worked this time... No, I know it worked. I could feel... something flow through me."

"We can vouch for that" Oz said from his corner while Cordelia only managed a, "It was Creepy"

Understanding that her friend tried the spell one more time for her the girl shook her head "No. He was Angeleus till the end."

"B-but" The redhead stuttered "It worked! I felt it!"

Buffy felt a pang of worry for a moment that maybe, just maybe she sent Angel to hell. But then she remembered those hateful golden eyes and fanged lips that cursed her as he fell into hell. "It didn't work Will"

Willow seemed aghast by this "It worked! I know it did!"

"It wasn't him Willow!" Buffy finally snapped, her shoulder's shaking from suppressed emotions. "Angel wouldn't try to kill me. Angel wouldn't hurt me. Angel wouldn't call me those, things" She spat out the last word in pure distaste at Angeleus' vulgar taunts. "You know what his last words were to me? Not "I love you" or "Why?" but "You bitch". So yeah Willow I'm pretty sure it wasn't him!"

Buffy gave a sniffle as she tried to restrain her tears. Maybe coming to the hospital was a bad idea after all.

There were no comforts here, just more heart ache.

She moved to leave but a gentle hand from Oz stopped her. He said something to excuse Willow for her unthoughtful words and asked her to stay. She did, taking a chair a way from a now remorseful red head. She tried to restrain it but eventually her silent sobs come along with salty tears.

<hr/>
Consciousness slid slowly back to Xander. Filling him with an odd anticipation, like going up the hill of a rollercoaster.

And just like a rollercoaster that slow paced instantly disappeared as he seemingly slammed back into his body, back into place. He felt himself... shift where he stood, his feet unconsciously realigning to suit his weight and posture. It took only a moment for him to realize he had awakened standing up.

His eyes didn't even adjust to the light, he just appeared in the strange graveyard like he had been there for a few minutes. "Uh, what just happened?"

His voice rang through the grounds like a giant bell catching the other two occupants attention. One standing, the other bleeding in its grips.

"Tch. You're here? How annoying." The standing figure said as he dropped bloodied figure and started to walk away "Guess we're alive though. That's good." Whoever it was walked weird, like he was unwillingly restraining himself and was just waiting for the word 'GO' to unleash himself.

Though Xander ignored that as he rushed over to the victim. A habit now he guessed. Buffy would take care of the aggressor while he and Willow checked on the would be snack. "Hey, you alright?"

"Xander?"

Ah, fuck "Angeleus!"

The man on the ground groaned out "Not again."

<hr/>
The boy lurched forward suddenly causing one of the nurses to yelp and forcing two of the orderlies to wrestle him back down.

"Geez, kid's stronger than he looks" One grumbled out before taking a whap to the face.

"Someone sedate him already!"

<hr/>
Contrary to popular belief most people in Sunnydale knew the truth of the world on some level. They knew that there was something wrong with their little city after dark, they could feel the hungry eyes on them as they passed the shadows.

Why any of them stayed in Sunnydale none of them really knew. Maybe it was because that terrifying little city was their home? And maybe because they didn't want to be pushed away by something they couldn't explain?

Or maybe, there was something dark about more than one of the 'normal' populace.

Or they could all just be fools. Again nobody really knew.

But one thing was for sure, the medical staff of every hospital, clinic, doctor's office in Sunnydale knew something was up. Either through the odd injuries some of their patients come in with or by the fact that their blood banks are routinely broken into.

And Sunnydale General knew a bit more than any of them. After all they patched up the ones dealing with the 'problems' the most.

And every single member of the staff was proud of it. Sure they were ashamed that a bunch of kids and a librarian were protecting them but they couldn't argue with results

The death toll has nearly halved in the recent year.

So of course when news that at least two of their protectors were hospitalized members of the staff were just lining up to help.

And when a third one fell ill, in their own waiting room no less, the staff started to get worried. Exactly what did they face this time that left them in such a state?

What terrifying thing could they have stopped this time?

Did it really matter? After all they were all still alive and it wasn't their job to worry about it, it was their job to patch them up after.

And keeping them informed was just another part of the job. Or so the nervous nurse told herself as she entered the room to do just that.

"Um, excuse me?" Four heads shot up to look at her, doing nothing for her nerves "You four are acquainted with Alexander Harris correct?"

Anyone who was only giving her half an ear stopped and listened intently and started demanding answers. "Um, uh," She didn't know how to react. The people who fought demons and other such darkness were yelling at her. It was a little scary "He was found in the waiting room with a bleeding nose and losing consciousness. He was rushed to examined by one of the doctors when he started to convulse."

"What's wrong with him?" Willow demanded, straining to get out of the bed.

"Um, we aren't too sure. We want to get MRI or Cat scan to see if it's a concision gone very wrong but he won't stop moving."

"Where is he."

The nurse eyed the blonde girl wearily "We placed him in 205, the room next to Mr. Giles." Her eyes darted to the side "For convince sake."

Cordelia was the first to really move, exiting out the room shortly after Buffy's Slayer speed rush. Willow was only slowed down by the need for Oz's support.

<hr/>
This Xander he was familiar with. Crack a few weak jokes, go in for a haymaker punch, grapple for those moments when he couldn't get a hit in.

Basically the suicidal usual he would use on demons and vampires that worked at best two-thirds of the time. Making him multiple times easier to deal with than the other Xander.

Easier being Angel landed a few hits and get some distance, even if he wasn't injured he could tell he wouldn't win. Xander's defense was always willing to accept more punishment and every hit that he landed was hard enough for a vampire to at least feel.

Knowing this hurt Angel's ego a bit, as he had always viewed himself as Xander's better.

"Xa-" Pow, right to the chest. Why were all his hits aimed there? ... Oh, right, vampires, hearts, "Xander! Wait! I'm not Angeleus!"

"Yeah right."

God, he wished he didn't have to breathe again "If I was Angeleus do you really think you would be winning!?"

Just like with the other Xander that stopped him flat, unlike the other Xander he stopped at one punch after realizing the truth. "Still don't like you."

"Noted." God, he forgot how much it hurt to be human.

"So where are we?"

"Not a clue." Angel said after a pained breath "I just woke up here and started to look around." And got his ass kicked, twice. Though he wasn't going to really count the second one, two fights in a row after all. No one could blame him.

"Well, there is someone else here, so find and ask him?"

Angel hid his flinch well and managed a nod. He didn't like it but it was their only option.

<hr/>
Both orderlies in the room slacked in relief when Xander did the same. His limbs no longer flailing around and slamming into everything.

With a breath and a sore cheek one of the orderlies came up with a plan of action, "Alright. You get the doctor, tell him Harris has calmed down and I'll keep an eye on him... restrain him too" After getting a nod from his colleague the impromptu leader started to pull the overly used Sunnydale restraints out from their place.

As he started to strap the sleeping boy down the door burst open, which was the first hint it wasn't a doctor. The second being the girl who charged in couldn't be more than five foot or older than seventeen.

She took one look at the scene, pinned him with a glare, and was in front of him as soon as he ended a blink. "What are you doing." It was a demand for an answer not a question, accompanied by a little hand nearly crushing his larger one mid task.

"Strapping him down in case of more spasms." He said trying to be professional and keep himself from flinching in pain. But when there was just a smidgen more pressure he quickly added more information "So he doesn't hurt himself."

"Buffy would you just chill and let the guy do his job?" Cordelia said as she barley took the scene, more focused on getting to her sorta boyfriend's side. Giving his hand a firm squeeze as she took a seat near the bed.

Buffy gave him a glare but let go to let him do his job.

Oz and Willow entered the room almost simultaneously as when the orderly finished the last restraint. "What's wrong? Why is Xander being tied up?"

The hospital worker for his own safety quickly repeated what he told the blonde. His hand was still sore.

"Okay, but what's WRONG with him?"

He shrugged "No clue. The doctor should be here soon to find out though." He really wanted out of the room, he hated being on night shift.

He took one last cautious look at the blonde before he left, which got him a brief glare, and made him wish all the more for morning only shifts.

<hr/>
As Angel walked through the twisted playground he started to feel better. Wounds not aching as much, scrapes stopped bleeding, bruises not even getting the chance to turn blue. He was grateful for it but it made him wonder all the more, was he now human or something else?

The two forced upon companions talked to break the seemingly ever-present silence that seemed to blanket the landscape. They talked about a few speculation of where they were and how they got there. Xander spouted at least a dozen different comic book theories and at this point Angel was willing to accept he was in some creepy mirror world.

Eventually the silence was broken by something other than their voices. A click of steel against flint, the sound of embers burning and deep inhale.

The two quickly followed the sound to the source and found their target just as let out a large exhale of smoke. Xander was struck stupid as he stared at a near mirror image of himself sitting on top of a vine covered and rusting jungle gym. He just sitting there as peaceful as you please looking at the perpetual twilight of wherever they were smoking a cigarette.

He barely gave them a glance as they entered his area, he just tsked went back to his sky watching.

The two men shared a rare glance wondering how to approach the situation. Eventually Xander decided to step up and get the man's attention, which Angel was grateful for. The guy did try to beat him to death after all.

"Uh, excuse me? Sir?"

The man's eyes lulled to look at Xander, "What?"

"Uh, we were kind of wondering, hoping, that you could tell us where we are?"

The man snorted, "If you haven't figure that out already you're dumber than I thought."

Xander let out a hearty "Hey!" while Angel wondered if that insult included him.

Taking another puff the Xander clone looked at them like he was debating their worth, "No clue at all? Really? Does a single thought even go through your mind?"

While Angel was glad to see he wasn't the only one who hated this version of Harris he interrupted Xander's next comment, "Look, we just want to know where we are and how we got here, and frankly you're our best bet."

The man was quite for a moment, just enjoying his cigarette as he stared down at them. Frankly it was annoying the hell out of them.

Finally when he did speak he pointed at Angel with the glowing tobacco, "Don't know how YOU got here but the kid could always come here... Technically, I guess he always here but that is some semantic bullshit I don't want to cover."

"Uh... What?"

Sighing the man started to tap his temple repeatedly, drawing out each word like he was talking to a particularly dumb dog, "We're, in, your, head."

Xander stared dumbly at him for a few seconds with Angel right behind him. Eventually the American teen managed another, "What?"

The apparent resident of Xander's mind mumbled, "Dumbass." and flicked the still burning cigarette at the boy and jumped down. While Xander started to rapidly pat himself down as if it had set him on fire the man repeated the statement, "I said we're in your head. How you two got here I don't know but I want the pedophile gone."

Xander winced as even he wouldn't go so far as to say that... to Angel's or Buffy's face. Or even out loud actually. Seemed like too much of a cheap shot.

Angel for his part just wondered why the other Harris kept on calling him that. In his day Buffy should have already been married off, he knew times have changed but not by that much, right?

"I don't even know how we got here much less kick someone out!" Xander yelled in exasperation before narrowing his eyes, "And if we're in my head who are you?"

The man snorted, "Isn't it obvious or are you just too dumb to tell?"

"Again with the put downs, just answer the question already."

The man sighed and mumbled something before he started to tick off a few fingers, "Hint one, I'm wearing some random ass military uniform. Hint two, I have spotted hair and fucking pointed teeth. Hint three, I'm in your head. Who am I?"

"Uh."

"Gah!" The man started to ruffle his hair in exasperation, "God! How can someone as stupid as you be Alpha!?"

"Hey!" Seriously this guy loved to hurt Xander's ego.

The man stood up completely straight and jabbed his finger painfully into Xander's chest, "I am the Influence of what the Hyena and Soldier did to you. I'm what's left of the things that fucked with your head."

At that Xander took a few steps away from the angered man.

He could see the traits of both of them in the man now. Animalistic and focused, a true hunter, a true killer.

And at two points in time stole his freedom from him at the deepest level.

Angel noticed the sudden fear in Harris and quickly decided that it wasn't a good sign.

"Oh, would you two relax. The kid's the Alpha, I have to listen to what he says," The snarl on his face quickly turned into a feral grin, "For now."

"And that does nothing to make me feel better."

The Influence just shrugged, as if, and he probably didn't, care. "Not my problem. My problem is how to get the creeper out of here. I can barely take your company much less his." He said as he nudged his head towards Angel.

Angel scowled at the... he could only guess if man still applied but he scowled at him none the less. The insults were getting old. "And how do we do that?" He asked ignoring the insult for since he wanted to get out of there as much as the Influence seemed to want him gone.

He received another shrug and sneer, "Not sure. Best guess? Wake him up."

"And how do we do that? I don't see a Starbucks around here." Xander managed to quip before receiving a rather hard hit to the back of the head.

As he lost consciousness and started to feel all the lighter as he got closer to the ground he heard a mildly surprised voice say "Huh, that worked?"

<hr/>
The room jerked in surprise as Xander's body rose with a startled yelp. The half asleep group flailing to keep themselves from falling to the ground, or in one case punching what surprised her.

"Xander!" Willow half cheered as she reoriented herself and dove for him.

Xander for his part just blinked and grunted as she slammed him against the bed in a hug. He looked around the room and linked some more as memories and facts returned to him.

Going to the mansion, lying to Buffy about the spell, taking Giles to the hospital, being unable to get up from his chair, finding Angel and the Influence guy in his head.

Dots started to connect in his head as he sorted through the information and he didn't like where it led.

Willow said she was going to try the spell again and he suddenly has Angel in his head.

A guy he hated was in his head because his best friend screwed up, could anyone blame him for being angry?

And normally few probably would but at the moment Xander was having a rather uncommon problem. For you see when a person has a strong enough soul, and very many times this translates to a powerful magi, they can exert their power upon the world.

And while Xander's soul was in the above average range he alone wasn't strong enough to cause such an effect. But if in addition to his own he had an over two century old soul within him that is a completely different story.

The 'weight' of his soul could be felt in the room with his rising anger, momentarily choking the occupants as Xander glared down at his best friend, "Get him out of my head!"

A green aura started to flicker and wisp around him before it all came to screeching halt as Buffy's fist made contact with his forehead.

Xander's groggy eyes held an angered defiance till the last second before he succumbed to the concussed knock out.

As his head fell back into the pillow all of them had a similar thought in mind but only one voiced it.

"What the hell was that?" They were pretty sure it was Cordelia.



AN:
The crossover for this story is Bleach, with Angel acting as Xander's Zanpaktou (A sword empowered by a spirit/soul). The story itself would go over both Xander and Angel's reasons for fighting the supernatural, besides Buffy, hence the title and how to use the strength of souls, as you got a glimpse of, while trying to work together.

The Influence that you saw was my original idea for the sword but I figured it might be more interesting to have him act as the Hollow (instinct that will try to take over).
Both of those concepts are really good. While I prefer the idea that Xander got the sword through his own initiative and desire to help, the second one seems more in character to the series and how it treats Xander.
I would read both, really, as while they are the same basic concept, they are approaching it from very different angles and would be very different in the messages they would convey.
 
14. A Somebody There Pt 2
Not finished with Inquisition but damn do Eluvian fit what I want well. I'll likely have to rewrite part 1 but I was likely going to have to do that anyway. In the meantime, enjoy this.


A Somebody There Pt 2

"He looks so much like you." Her love whispered as he held their child for the first time. Kieran had made a fuss at first, as most children do, but eventually the boy had settled down for a nap in his father's arms. It was not a sight she knew she longed to see until it was before her.

"Perhaps in the coloring but she truly is his father's son in other aspects." With her head rested on his shoulder, she shared in the sight of the sleeping toddler. Thought the hair may be darker and the skin lighter in color his father's features shined through.

Though she would take the credit for the boy's lips his jaw like was most certainly inherited from Alexander. As were the shape of his ears and the nose. What else the boy had gained from his parents remained to be seen and up to time to reveal.

They enjoyed the relative silence for a few too brief moments. "What do we do now?"

"What is this?" She mocked, not moving an inch from her spot on his arm. "You spent all this time searching for me, hounding after me, and now you don't know what to do with me?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas of what to do with you, just not in front of Kieran."

"Hmmm, I do like the sound of that." Her fingers began to play with the hem of his shirt and her eyes sparkled as they met his. It had been an achingly long time since she felt such a touch, and would very much welcome it. Especially if the touch was his.

She could tell he felt very much the same but restrained himself. Admirable. "Not now, but soon."

"A moment I shall look ever forward to." The smile she gave him made the man blush.

Clearing his throat as quietly as he could, "Seriously Morrigan, what now?" If we were back in Ferelden I could take care of you, of us, but here?" He shook his head.

Deciding that honesty was for the best answered his rhetorical question, "Ferelden is not as far away as you fear." She enjoyed his surprised glance. "The Eluvians lead to a great many places, doorways to ruins across Thedas or worlds further away than once imagined. One only needs a door and know how to knock. And I, thanks to your rather rude departure, know how to knock."

"You mean we can go back?"

The excitement in his voice was endearing but she sadly had to crush his hopes, "It would but require the proper door. Simple enough, if one could be found. But do we truly wish to return?"

Alexander looked absolutely bewildered at her suggestion, "Why wouldn't we go back?"

"I could think of several reasons. No Templars hounding after us. No Darkspwan making a nuisance of themselves. Less chance of my mother finding us."

"It's our home Morrigan."

"And was this not yours? I remember once a young man asking every mage he could find about other worlds."

"That was before he grew up. Before he had a position, a fortress, to protect his family. A fortune to provide for them."

It warmed her heart more than she cared to mention to hear the sweet word of family escape his lips. But still, she argued her position, "Distance is a greater form of protection than stone walls. And if the coin isn't good here after some fashion one has to wonder about the gold in which it was made."

"Sunnydale isn't a safe place."

"Neither were the Wilds."

"It's not the same Morrigan." HIs voice momentarily rising above a whisper, "There are demons here. Physicals ones. A town full of Abominations that don't want your dreams or your body beyond a snack."

"Then they are simply above average beast. It honestly does not sound much more dangerous than Ferelden." Morrigan said with a shrug, "And tis not as if this land has only one town, is it?"

"... I suppose not…" He reluctantly replied.

"Good. Now let's not ruin this perfectly good moment with more needless arguments." She said with no small amount of finality before settling back down onto his shoulder.

"Definitely can't argue about that." His smile was gentle as she began to drift off, it had been a most tiring day after all.

-0-0-0-0-0-
An:
Seriously though I'm picturing at least 3 arcs and I already know the main conflict. Themes easy enough... Yeah, can definitely see more of this.

Side note: changing shifts and sleeping schedules suck.
 
Green Mother Pt 3 (Young Justice)
A rough try for Green Mother pt 3

Gotham
July 25th

Just outside the city, proper Arkham Asylum loomed from its hilltop.

Its gothic design made all the more oppressive by its high cement walls and razor wire. Even the sunny weather could not make the building seem any less gloomy.

Still, Superboy stood outside the main gate that Saturday afternoon, hesitation gluing him to the ground. Inside the building in front of him was a woman for all genetic purposes was his mother. A woman who was apparently eager to meet him.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling very much the same, but still, he hesitated. Partly out of nerves that he was bull-headedly ignoring. Another part, a very large part, was because of who the woman was.

A criminal. A terrorist. A suspected murderer.

What did it say about him that he was so eager to meet such as a person? That he shared genetics with such a person?

"Hey, kid, you coming in or what?" The gate guard asked, sounding more bored than anything else.

Giving the man a brief glare Superboy rammed his hands into his pockets before stomping his way inside.


-0-0-0-0-0-

She was shorter than he thought she would be.

Obviously, he had read her file before he came and had skimmed over her height along with her other personal information. Still, he somehow expected the woman to be more… imposing was probably the best word.

Instead, the redhead before him looked positively tiny in her state-issued orange jumpsuit. Though upon seeing him enter the room she seemed to bloom as a smile grew on her face and stood as far as her restraints would let her.

"I, hello!" She started, still half raised from her seat, "Thank you for coming."

He gave a grunt, unsure what else to say, and sat down across from her. His eyes flickered to the guard in the corner of the room before landing back on her as she retook her seat. He didn't like that someone else was there, invading the moment.

"Does she have to be here?"

Casting a quick glance over her shoulder the green-skinned refocused her attention in front of her, "I'm afraid so, I've asked. But never mind that. I'm happy you decided to come." And there was that smile again. Bright, friendly, and tinted with something he couldn't quite identify.

He couldn't help but smile back.

The woman's hands started to work against each other as a silence started to fall over them. "I, ah, so what should I call you? Your file didn't say your name, so…"

"Superboy."

The woman flinched back, "I suppose I deserve that."

"Deserve what?"

"Not knowing your name." She supplied with a helpless, mournful, shrug. "I am a criminal after all."

"My name is Superboy." They both blinked at the other's confusion.

"No, that can't be right." Her mind unable to fully wrap around what it was putting together. "What do your friends call you.'

"I keep telling you, Superboy." He was getting irritated at that point.

"That's not a name." She said, emotion rising in her voice, "Superboy is an alias, at best. A project name at worst. I mean I don't go by Poison Ivy every second of the day. I have a real name… you should too."

"I guess…"

She bit her lip, "Do, you… Would it be alright if I gave you a name?"

His chest warmed and his face stretched into the widest smile he had given in his life, "I think I'd like that."


-0-0-0-0-0-
Unbeknownst to the room's two occupants, their conversation was being observed via closed-circuit TV. One of the viewers let out a thoughtful hum while the other watched with a blank expression, or so one would assume.

"What do you think Doctor?"

"Well," the man rubbed at his chin, "I'd have to consult her usual therapist, and collect more data but I think this is a positive sign. Dr. Isley never had much of a support structure before and now that she has the foundation of one, a hopefully strong and a moral one, I can only assume a real road to rehabilitation for her."


"Hmmm, keep me notified."

"Of course sir."


-0-0-0-
AN:
Thoughts? Opinions? Possible names for Superboy?
 
Thoughts? Opinions? Possible names for Superboy

Considering Poison Ivy's character, I think her giving the name Connor would be out of character; (although I see her grudgingly acknowledging a kriptonian name as necessary, I think she'd probably relegate it to second or third name).

No, there's a much more obvious route: flower names!

Unfortunately, most flower names are feminine (Rose, Lily, Jasmine, Daisy, etc.), but a quick googling gives Hawthorne, Watson, Chris (anthemus), Snapdragon, Yarrow...

Best of all, some of those names can be shortened, with the long version being embarrassing. So that Wally can tease him about it and promptly be punched through a wall.

Also, like I said above, second and third names are also on the plate, which can also be mildly embarrassing.

Also: Reed, Heath, Ash, Tarragon, Huckleberry...
 
Cross post
Could we get a short summary of each that isn't the next in the sequence?
Well, if you don't want to surprised sure. Be more informed than the average American voter.


Winter's Star- Ned Stark's life has never been the same since the War. His sister was dead, he had a bastard child of Dayne's blood to present to his lady wife and trueborn son, and a large tree like creature stood invisibly behind him.

Black Thorns- Taylor Hebert didn't like her powers. The ability to generate black spears/stakes/batons from her body was not a pleasant experience, not was the urge to stab others with them. But when she comes across a dead body the urge overtook her and her path was set.
(Ability based on 6 Paths of Pein from Naruto)

Stone Hearts- Connie had been having strange dreams, ones she put off to stress until the ant like creatures started to gather and attack Gem sights around the world.

Without Heart or Body- A strange little creature has started to follow Grue around, according to Tattletale it used to be a person but he could barely believe it from how... Animalistic it acted. Even Bitch acted better. Still, if it was staying it could make itself useful.
A cross town a prospective new Ward sets Gallant on edge by their absolute lack of emotion.

Matriarch- Buffy didn't let Xander go confront those bullies alone, Willow following loyally after. But after those bullies were driven away they heard a giggle behind them and as they turned their eyes flashed green. The Slayer's spirit did not take the presumptuous intruder's appearance well but after it was dealt with the remaining two became pleasing compliant.

Minute's Notice- Liara was a part of the Relay 314 exploration team, assigned to discover and uncover the prothean research facility on the other side. But when they arrived in system they detected Radio Signals coming from the third planet. Drawing the short straws she and a handful of others were selected to probe the planet, but shoddy maintenance proved their downfall upon atmospheric entry. Now she and some very injured others were trapped on world until the main segment noticed them unresponsive.

Heroes of the Forum- Four heroes were gathered together from across the multiverse for what felt like no apparent reason. Now they must travel across this unknown world to find their way home.
 
Whelp, looks like the voting is coming to a close and it seems like Winter's Star is the winner with a total 13 votes on both sites.

*cracks knuckles* Well, let's get this done... *is being dragged away by wife for valentines day* soon...
 
16. Winter's Star (Game of Thrones/Jojo)
GoT/JoJo

Winter's Star: Prologue
483- Ned Stark

The salt air stung at his scabbing wound, a wince had to be fought off his face at every breeze and at every wave. He failed to hide his pain, enough so that a number of the sailors would helpfully suggest that he might be a bit more comfortable below deck, in his own cabin.

He, as politely as he could, told them to bugger off. His cabin stank of fish, stale blood, and of too old clothes. If he had stayed in that room for much longer he wasn't sure if his stomach could have handled it. Besides, the open air helped him sort his thoughts. To process what had happened to him over the last few weeks.

His hands tightened on the railing as he considered that maybe, just maybe, it might not have been the greatest of ideas to dwell on such things alone. Which was why he found himself thankful when Howland Reed silently joined him, leaning on the railing a more tired manner than Ned himself. Understandable, as the Crannogman's stomach wound have been fairly deep.

"Howland." He greeted after some silence.

"Ned." Was the easy response back, allowing the two to fall back into an easy silence as they enjoyed each other's company. Glad that they both had survived it all, even if others had not. "We'll figure this out, Ned."

He was about to ask him what they were meant to figure out. There was just so much troubling him after all they had been through. It had only been when Howland lifted his hand and a ghostly hand rose with it did he understand what the man meant. The green gauntleted hand flexed as easily as Howland's own flesh as the man examined it with a queer fascination.

"The Dayne's told us enough. There [Stands] are our "Reward" for surviving the Dawn's curse."

Howland looked at him with sad moss colored eyes."I'm sorry. Has the child's fever broke yet?"

Ned's grip tightened, "No. The curse hasn't run its course through him yet. I'd have preferred to have left him at Starfall but Ashara…"

The shorter man's found it's way to Ned's shoulder, "You tried to do right.:

"And look where it has gotten me." Ned spat, "A shamed wife, a dead sister, a dead... a dead lover."

"And a son Ned."

"Aye, a son. A bastard son." Ned hung his head, "What is his going to be like Howland? I ask you how good of a life could he possibly have?"

"With you as his father? Likely a good one." He gave the shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go but NEd could not, would not, be consoled.

"And my Lady Wife? Gods, the shame she will have to bare because of me. One can on fathom how she is feeling now. Our child, Robb, burning with a few that won't be quenched and with little clue why." Ned felt his knuckles pop on the railing, "Damn that sword, dam that child killer."

Howland had grown silent and only offered his company as the two watched the waves, waiting for Ned's breath to even out again. "If these boys are even a tenth as strong as their father them I know they will be fine my friend." The words didn't ease the worried father but he gave his thanks to him all the same. "Come, let's get some food and ale in you. You look like you need it.

"I...yes."

He had needed that meal, more than he'd care to admit, but he had needed those cups of ale more. Howland had more and confessed for his newly ghostly companion. A perfect name he had declared.

"Green Day? I understand the green part but the day?"

"You can see through their eyes, Ned. Clear as day." Ned chuckled with him and true enough he could see through his own specter's, his own [Stand's], eyes. The vision wasn't as clear as Howland had claimed bit it was clear enough all the same. IT made him think of what he should call his own [Stand]. The Dayne's had recommended that they named them, in part out of tradition, but he could only come up with a few vague notions. None of which he liked.

It was an amusing distraction, one that was rather short lived.

"Lord Stark?" The wet nurse, Wylla, called as she approached. They had taken her on at Starfall, to help watch and take care of his son. She had been a gift to have because of his son's condition. Though the fact she would so brazenly approach him without the babe in hand worried him. "The boy's fever has finally broken. I believe the worst is over."

"You are sure?" He didn't realize he was standing until found himself walking towards the woman.

"Yes, my lord, I am. The boy even has color returning to his cheeks." The joy was clear on her face. And why shouldn't it be? This was the child she had helped bring into the word and had suckled at his breast. "Would you like to see him?"

Ned gave a wordless nod to her before giving his table companion his farewell.

The cabin where his son was kept was not far from his own, they were just across the hall from each other in fact. Ned had wanted to keep him close, to check on the boy when given half the chance. Despite their similar size, the room felt more cramped than his own, likely because the room hosted both babe and wet nurse. It also had the most wonderful sound coming from within.

Soft, unlabored, breathing.

His son laid on the soft blanket, his chest moving steadily and his face pink instead of sickly pale. It was a heart tightening sight. Ned carefully made his way across the room, enraptured by his first piece of good new in what felt like months.

"Is he well enough to hold?"

"Of course my lord."

Carefully, cautiously, he reached down. His finger's curling underneath his firstborn's small frame as he brought the babe to his chest, holding him close and as tight as he dared. The babe made a small fuss before settling into his father's arms giving Ned all the time in the world to examine his son.

Despite not even being a month in age yet the boy's stark looks were obvious. Beneath his baby fat there laid the long face he had inherited from his father and at the top of his little head dark tufts of hair were coming in thickly.

But the traits he inherited from his mother was also easily seen, and if anything they were more so obvious. On the boy's back, just peeking over his neck and shoulder, was a birthmark in the perfect shape of a five-pointed star. The 'Mark of the Dayne' it was called, a never failing trait that appeared on every member of the main family line. It was a defining family trait that has appeared over generations, more defining than a Lannister's golden hair and green eyes.

There would be no question of the boy's heritage, something that was likely to hurt them both in the future. But in that moment Ned could not bring himself to care. His son was going to live!

"I hope you live a good long life, Jon."


AN:
It took forever to put this from paper to computer! The doubles at work make it easy to right but it makes it nearly impossible to transfer online.

Anyway, not completely happy with it but I'm happy to have it out.

For those not familiar with JoJo I'm using the Dayne's as the main source of this crossover because of their Star Motif. In Jojo there are six arrow heads forged from a meteor that when the cut someone either kills them or gives them a super powered ghost while putting everyone who's a direct descendant of you under the same treatment. And since the Dayne's sword Dawn is forged from a 'fallen star' I'm having it have the same effect.

Also in Jojo there is a family line where every member of the blood have a star shaped birthmark and most of them have a name that start with the letters Jo. With Ashara as one of Jon's suspected mother's I couldn't resist.

More to come, possibly. Still planning it all out.

Thoughts? Opinions? Suggestions?
 
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