Chapter 3

A Warning From Above

A/N: Third chapter of the series. I'll try to post a chapter every week or sooner. Lost many readers on previous stories because of not uploading chapters soon enough, so I'll try to keep a regular schedule on this story. As a warning, once again, this is not a happy story. I've yet to receive any feedback, but if anyone is reading this, I probably should give a word or two of advice. I haven't ended the story and I've already written over sixty pages, so this is going to be quite a long story. Consider yourselves warned.

Disclaimer: Property of Joss Whedon and all parties responsible for airing the shows. Other original characters are mine, and some others will be explained as the story goes on.

Feedback: Sure, if you wish.

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Cordelia silently thanked the Powers every time silence was breached in the netherworld.

"What are we going to do?" Tara asked, curiously biting her nails.

'Old habits die hard.' Cordelia thought as she and Anya stared at Tara.

"I suppose we could do what we were ordered to." Anya replied. Cordelia crossed her arms and pondered the statement for a while.

"I suppose we could warn them." She finally said. When her companions were about to speak, she raised a hand.

"I'm not saying we'll tell them everything. I know we can't." She continued. "We could only give them a cryptic warning; say only what's absolutely necessary."

"And what's that?" Anya asked.

"We can't say anything that could jeopardize the outcome." Tara intervened. "So much is at stake here. We can't let old feelings get in the way."

"That goes for everyone." Cordelia said.

The three of them nodded and vanished into thin air.

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Los Angeles, California, USA.

November 2017.

Willow Rosenberg sat alone in the backyard of her parents' house.

Ever since the so-called 'Dark' Willow episode and her subsequent rehabilitation, she'd learnt how to rest and recharge her mystical energies by simply getting tuned with Earth's primal forces. In such case, sitting cross-legged on the floor, barefoot and her hands touching the ground, she received all the energy she needed.

Willow took deeps breaths, trying to forget the regular fights that came every time she visited her parents. They seemed to be intent on recovering the teenage Willow, and couldn't cope with the adult Willow. More accurately, they couldn't cope with the lesbian, Wicca adult Willow.

She sighed and shook her head, regaining her calmness and focused on the energy flowing out of the earth and into her body.

The red headed woman practically remained the same. Most people thought she was younger than she really was, not guessing her thirty-six years of age. Her hair was shorter, and a white streak ran through it. Her body still slender and athletic; having once dated a slayer, she'd begun to use her physical attributes instead of her magical ones.

Willow had spent ten years traveling the world, at first seeking new slayers and training watchers; later on she'd worked alongside the coven of witches in order to train with witches and warlocks across the globe.

Her thoughts were forgotten when she felt a distinct change in the energies surrounding her. She slowly opened her eyes and focused one everything surrounding her. Light suddenly appeared in front of her and she immediately stood up. Out of instinct, she erected a shield of energy around her, slightly blinded by the light.

The shields fell down when she recognized the figure materializing in front of her.

"Hello, dear." Tara said as she appeared.

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Okinawa, Japan

November 2017

Rain fell softly over the city of Okinawa.

A soft scent of jasmine rose from the ground, filling the air.

A man sat outside a small dojo located on the outskirts of the city, completely soaked yet unfazed by the constant downpour around him. He wore black clothes, a sort of uniform, as well as a fold tied around his head, covering his eyes.

The man was fully relaxed, yet not asleep, and completely aware of everything and everyone surrounding his environment. The man once called Alexander Harris had managed to overcome his weaknesses and come at ease with his blindness six years ago.

However, he still couldn't avoid the nightmares or forget that fateful night, fourteen years ago.

He couldn't forget the last thing he'd seen, over a decade ago. When the First Evil had struck Sunnydale, the army Buffy gathered had gone unprepared into the vineyard, he never expected his final gaze would be upon a man of the cloth.

The insane preacher named Caleb had pushed both thumbs into his eyes, robbing him of colors and light. Submerged in a sea of darkness and pain, he'd sunk deeply into depression, further increased by the loss of his beloved Anya a few days later.

His only regret had been not telling her how much he truly loved her.

He hoped she'd known, the last time they'd been together, in the Summer's kitchen.

How he wished he could have seen her face, one last time. He remembered her scent, her perfume, how her skin tasted and how soft she really was.

The feeling of her hair in his hands was something no one could take away from him. He would remember it until the day he died and beyond.

Those days, he had wanted to die, but no one would let him. He'd wanted to be with his friends that last time, when they'd stormed the high school he'd built with his own hands, but the slayers in training wouldn't let him.

He'd been unceremoniously tied inside the school bus, and left him alone while they went seeking the death he wished for. All he could do was try to cry, for he'd been physically unable to do so. Caleb had taken away his sight, and had damaged more than just his eyes.

Xander had suffered in darkness, only hearing the battle, not knowing what was happening.

He'd never felt more useless in his entire life.

Fortunately, Buffy's army had won, Faith had earned her redemption using the strange device brought by none other than the soon to be husband of Buffy, Angel.

'Fucking luck some guys have.' He'd bitterly thought, knowing Angel had gotten everything out of nothing. All his morals and self-esteem vanished and he stopped believing in God.

If some thing like Angel received second chances and could win both the girl and a family after centuries of murder and hate, then no God was watching them from above.

All Xander Harris had ever done was play by the rules, and all he'd received had been pain and loss.

The following days had been a blur to him, feeling removed from it all when he'd been dragged across the globe in order to start all over again. He'd been taken like a dog, like a cripple, unable to see a step in the streets.

His life had been reduced to a cacophony of chaos surrounding him.

What was a man to do?

Following old habits, he'd turned to alcohol and some other unconventional ways of forgetting.

He'd thrown himself all the way down, and he'd hit rock bottom.

That's why he owed his life to Willow; the one who had found him in time.

He had cursed all and everything around him and slashed his wrists in her kitchen.

'What's so cool about Rome if I can't see jackshit?' He'd thought.

Willow had saved him, and after she'd made sure he was ok, she'd slapped him. Hard.

"You saved me once from myself." She'd said, remembering her own downfall. "We're even now. I can't run behind you and spend every second with you to stop you the next time you decide to take the easy way out."

He'd been too immersed in his own pity to hear the pain and hurt beneath her hard words.

"You want to kill yourself?" She'd continued. "Go ahead, but do it somewhere else. Don't hurt your friends because you can't find a reason of your own to keep on living."

To their credit, the Scooby gang hadn't left him alone.

Even after all his harsh words and self-hatred, they had remained by his side. Yet not one of them seemed to be able to crack his shell; not until Rupert Giles appeared.

After years of anger and pain, all Xander Harris really needed was a father. A real father, not the sad imitation of a parent he'd have before.

Slowly, Xander found solace and was slowly brought back to his old self, Giles remaining by his side every step of the long road. Coping with the past, Xander had apologized to everyone and had asked them to let him return, to let him be a Scooby again.

His friends had embraced him with arms wide open, assuring him he'd always be their friend.

Feeling self conscious, Xander had asked Willow to magically recreate his eyes.

'Better to be blind with eyes than to be a freak with two holes in my face, right?' He'd said. The completely inappropriate comment and the dark humor meant he was healed, in more ways than one.

Nothing could be done regarding his eyesight, but his eyes had been physically replaced.

Nevertheless, as everything regarding magic, actions had consequences. In Xander's case, the magic used to recreate his eyes enhanced his remaining senses, almost to superhuman degrees.

'Daredevil!' Andrea had screamed when learning about the new development. Xander had nodded enthusiastically and enjoyed learning all the new things he could do. Nothing could compensate for what he'd lost, but at least he didn't feel useless anymore.

Becoming an eager student, Giles had taught him the old ways of Samurai, hoping it'd help him in achieving inner equilibrium and discipline.

As time went by, Giles turned from friend, listener and sensei into the father Xander had so desperately needed. His parents disappearing after the Sunnydale episode, Xander was left with no next of kin, so Giles had offered and the young man had accepted.

Alexander Lavelle Harris turned into Xander Giles.

Looking to learn more, Xander left London and headed to Japan, looking forward to take his education into higher levels and truly learn what being Samurai meant.

His memories were interrupted when a slight alteration in the wind surrounding him and the water drops falling in his face increased in temperature.

He immediately became completely aware of his surroundings and gripped his old sword, tied to his waist. He sensed no danger, but the change in the air was unusual. Scents changed and electricity was practically crackling through the air.

The wind stopped and he felt someone in front of him. Someone who had not been there before.

A scent assaulted him and he knew he'd smelt it before. There was breathing but no heartbeat, and he identified the person in front of him as a woman, probably a higher being.

"Cordelia?" He asked, knowing she was the only higher being who had visited regularly in the past, but the scent was wrong.

"Cordelia?" Anya furiously asked. "That's the way to greet the woman you claimed to love?"

A/N2: Don't really like the character of Xander, but I've used him previously like filler and haven't seen potential. By removing Spike in the beginning of the previous series, there was no one to get Caleb off Xander, thus the mad preacher had the chance to take both his eyes. Those who might enjoy the character of Xander, I apologize if you don't like the way I've portrayed him. Everything has a reason and it will be explained in further chapters.

Daredevil is a character from Marvel Comics, a blind crime fighter whose other senses have been augmented because of radiation exposure.