"No," Xander responded smoothly, dodging yet another strike intended to take his head. He refused to call Nemuriri, refused to give into the anger that was slowly coursing through his own veins. "I will not fight you, Raphael. Never again will I do anything to harm you."
"Bullshit," the redhead spat heatedly, "as if you could do anything but!"
He continued to dodge, trying to reason with his furious lover. Never one to see reason, Raphael continued to attack, fully intent on handing him his head if he could. Xander could only hope that the other man's stamina would give before his own, or Raphael was going to do something that they would both regret.
Night began to fall, the chorus of rousing crickets heralding their own dawn, when Raphael finally began to tire. He stumbled, the Rapier lashing out in a weak strike as his hand trembled. "Damn you," he rasped. "I won't let it end this way."
"But it must," Xander whispered in return. "It must end, so we can begin anew."
Bitter laughter spilled forth, tainting those beloved features, echoed in the bright azure eyes which had haunted him for so long. "There is no 'anew', Xander. There are no second chances, not for us."
"And why not?" he questioned, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he took a daring step towards him. "Have we not suffered enough? Don't we deserve the chance to be happy?"
"Happy." Raphael shook his head, tears glittering in his own eyes, as he choked out, "You don't understand, Xan."
"Then, tell me." Xander lifted one gloved hand to cradle the side of his beloved's face. "Help me understand why you believe we can't be together."
Raphael's eyes closed, a tear slipping past the silky confine of his lashes, even as he leaned into the touch. "My soul, corrupted by vengeance," he quoted, much to his lover's growing dismay, "hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber."
"Raphael," he whispered with the horror of growing realization, "no."
Shimmering azure eyes locked on his, regret and determination mixing in their Michael-infused depths. "I'm sorry, Xan."
It took a moment for the pain to register. Xander looked down to find the Rapier lodged in his stomach, the hilt resting against torn skin and leather. He watched numbly as Raphael pulled it free, stumbling back, crying freely as did so. Xander could only clutch at the wound, remembering a similar one, dealt by a young boy in a Michael reactor a lifetime ago.
Perhaps, a part of him had known that it would come to this, perhaps he was still lost in his own madness. Either way, he would not deny Raphael what he needed to complete his own redemption.
He looked up at his lover, his killer, and smiled gently. He would give Raphael all that he could in the last minutes of his wretched existence. He forced his own wing into existence, the smile widening at Raphael's shocked gasp. "You were never the monster," he rasped, and offered Raphael the one thing he had always yearned for. "To become the dew that quenches the land, to spare the sands, the seas, the skies, I offer thee this silent sacrifice."
He slumped to the ground, his pale green eyes slowly fluttering closed, his last sight of Raphael, arms and wing flung wide towards the suddenly turbulent sky, screaming his grief to a world that truly did abhor them.
When Xander opened his eyes, Bally-and Raphael-were gone. He was surrounded by an infinity of white, and he scowled as he was reminded of the darkness that had been his prison for so long. He rose to his feet, surprised to see that his wound had not disappeared. He was dead. He knew it as surely as he knew that Raphael had dealt that last, devastating blow. So, why hadn't his spirit been made whole, and allowed to enter the MAMA?
"Why do you think?"
Xander whirled around at the beautiful, musical voice. He saw her, the beautiful young flower girl, the last Senora on The Planet, standing before him with her hands clasped before her. His mind replayed her death at the hands of one of his clones, the rush of air as he manipulated the currents around him to slow his descent, the pure, dazzling lights that had revealed the kneeling girl who prayed for Holy to save them all. But most of all, he remembered the smooth glide of Nimuriri as it entered her body with shockingly little resistance, puncturing her lungs, severing bone and organ, and the almost instantaneous death that had followed.
"You're dead," was all he could think to say in his shock.
She smiled just a bit impishly, her lush green eyes lighting up as though from within. "So are you," she pointed out, not unkindly.
Xander looked down at his stomach, and the gaping wound that bled steadily, with anger. "Why I am here?" he demanded furiously. "I made the sacrifice. Why have I not been accepted into the MAMA?"
She tilted her head to one side, her rich brown hair swaying with the movement. "Is that what you truly want?"
He opened his mouth to answer 'Yes, of course, it is,' then snapped it closed. "No," he said at last, looking away. "What I want, no one can give me."
Those emerald eyes sparkled playfully. "No one, Xander?"
Eyes the color of the Wutaian sky came to him, surrounded by a rich tumble of fiery hair and creamy skin. Firm, pink lips curved in a wicked smile that had always brought him to his knees, those same lips spilling lecherous obscenities in their most passionate moments. That same beloved face, covered in tears as Raphael jerked his sword free, his redemption finally, irrevocably, complete. Xander smiled faintly, sadly, and said, "No, no one."
Irish Shelmura's smile only grew brighter as she gazed at the man who had slain her. "Your pride was always your greatest flaw, brother."
Those pale, cat-like eyes narrowed dangerously on her own. "Why do call me that?" he asked coldly. "I am well aware that I am not a Senora."
"Oh, but you are," she returned in a gentle voice. "Did you never stop to ask yourself why Irene was so desperate to make you believe such a thing?"
Xander could only shake his head negatively. He had been too far gone in his madness to ask such questions. As though she could read his mind, she said, "I guess, it would have been a difficult thing to ponder, under the circumstances."
"Yes," was all he said in response.