WHO: Xander Harris (future) and Buffy Summers. WHAT: Meeting up. WHEN: Early evening. WHERE: The Hyperion. RATING: TBD. STATUS: In progress.
Being dragged to the past was an unfortunate experience. Xander had been setting up supplies for their next search and rescue mission when he found himself stumbling through the streets of L.A. in confusion. No sign of the opposing forces. No human slaves, riding through the streets with the intent of capturing any who weren't of their enemies numbers. People were walking the streets normally. They were alive. Whole. Unafraid. He'd had a few dreams like this. They always ended in blood pouring from the skies, people screaming and running in different directions, and her. Always visiting. Always begging him to join her. Always asking why, why, why. And then he'd wake up. Round up the team. Head out. Lose a few people. Take a few vampires. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
When Xander realized that this wasn't a dream, he began to cautiously explore. That exploration led him to the realization that he had been sucked into a year where all the horror had yet to begin. The knowledge made him wary. He could change the future. No, they couldn't be stopped. But if he could get everyone that mattered out of here before it was too late...
Xander stepped up onto the curb and squinted up at the Hyperion. It looked so foreign. The last time he had seen it, it had been burning to the ground. Dressed in an outfit that was terribly similar to the one that Buffy had gifted him with years ago, Xander carefully began to move in the direction of the building. He kept his hand on the pistol strapped to his side. He was always prepared for the worst.