Title: World's End
Warnings: Very disturbing content. Very Graphic. Torture, swearing, blood play, whipping, violence, turning and basically everything else. Character death, in a way. I was in a very strange mood when I wrote this story, so I warn you now. If any offend you, stay far away. If you are a minor, stay away.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, and will never be mine. So please don't sue me.
Fandom/season: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, AU, pre-season 1-ish, does not follow story. Also in starts in separate time period.
Summary: In the late 1800s, Alexander is captured by the vampire Angelus and his 'family'. He is in a world of hurt.
AN: First fic that I have written like this. Hope It's good. And it doesn't line up with canon. My story, so non-canon.
One small event or action can start a whole number of events, different than what may have happened. A small pebble, dislodged by a careless step, hitting a larger rock can start a landslide if the right rock is hit. A loud noise, a careless shout for example, can start an avalanche easily, often to the horror of those nearby.
Well, one small thing changed history. In other dimensions or alternate worlds, one boy would have been born late into the twentieth century. There, he would have led a rather normal life. He would of become friends with a small red head named Willow in kindergarten, and later met a dark haired boy named Jesse. The three would spend their childhoods together, united as one just like the musketeers. In fact that is what they came to be known as. His home life would have been a subject that just wasn't discussed, or even known by his friends. He would have had a relatively normal life, as normal as one can get living on the Hellmouth, until befriending a small blond Slayer and being introduced to the whole world of nightmares come to life that existed out his window at night. He then would have watched in horror as his best friend Jesse, or what remained of him, burst into dust at the end of his stake. He would keep that knowledge to himself, mourning for his lost friend. That would be the thing that kept him driving forward, fighting against the darkness even when his so called friends pushed him away all in the name of 'protecting him' (when in reality they could not protect him, the very place he lived in being against him.) He would have been part of the group of friends who helped the Slayer and her Watcher protects the regular citizens of the community and in turn the world. He would have been possessed by the Alpha spirit of a hyena, and then a solider, would have been the 'heart' of the group, and then would lose an eye at the hands of an insane priest.
But here in this reality, that one boy was born much earlier. Much much earlier. In fact in the place that his father figure Rupert Giles would have been born. In London, at the end of the nineteenth century, a young woman went into childbirth. You see, in those other timelines, this young woman would have been his great-great-grandmother.
What started this, you wonder? Why and how did the timeline get so messed up? Well, the answer lies in the 1980s. A young woman there by the name of Jessica Harris was in the process of divorcing her husband of three years. She couldn't stand his attitude towards her, his drinking, abuse and his many useless jobs anymore (which he would lose only after a short time and force her to work two jobs just to bring a very small amount of food to survive on). Especially after the recent incident of him going to Las Vegas with some equally useless buddies and blowing nearly five thousand dollars of her savings, leaving the balance about ten dollars. She thanked God that it wasn't more than that and that she was left with something! She discovered that he had stolen her information and gone to the bank to remove the money. At the time, she was one and a half months pregnant (1) with her first child, who would have been known as Xander Harris, the One-Who-Sees, later on.
Then she was visited by a vengeance demon, which has willing to grant a wish. (In fact it was a vengeance demon that would have known Xander very well later on.) The demon had thought that she would wish vengeance on her husband, but the young soon to be divorced woman only wished for one thing. She didn't want her child to have to go through the life that he would have had after the divorce. She would have been a single mom, and though she didn't know it, she would have been killed when the boy was only five years old, sentencing him to a life of numerous, never-ending foster homes. He would have grown up with a number of problems, and it would take a lot of patience and persistence on his part to get rid of those problems. By that time, he would be left with the memories of years of regret and pain. Instead, she wished for the child to have another life, another mother who would be able to care for him.
That wish changed the life of the child, in some very large ways. The vengeance demon was curious why she would wish for the welfare of her child instead of getting back at Tony Harris, but it was the wish of the wisher and she had to grant it. Years later, after losing her powers after a meeting with a dark haired girl and her wish against an ex-boyfriend, the now-human ex-vengeance demon named Anya would remember that wish. And wonder. And then she would meet Jessica again, this time in much happier times. And they would become friends eventually, and later would become relatives as Anya married her 20 year old son, the result of a happy meeting with a young gentleman two years after the wish that gave her son Xander a new life.
In accordance with the wish, there were only a few openings for the child to be able to find a mother in history, one where he would be loved and cherished. Sometimes fate would be changed, and things that should not have happened happen sometimes, in a way fate originally didn't plan. One of these openings was in Ancient Greece, where a mother suffered the miscarriage of a child that fate had plans for. Who would of become a great philosopher, known throughout the known world and then in history. Then there was one in the middle ages, where the same thing had happened. And then in the late nineteenth century, a mother had suffered a miscarriage of her second child, who would have been the brother of Tony Harris's grandfather. If he had been born, the brother would have founded a company that led to several great inventions that would change the world.
That last one was picked, at random. And that is how Alexander came to be born in the later part of the nineteenth century.
Originally, he was happy. His mother Mary Harris was one of the best kinds of mother that there could ever be. She took care of and loved each of her sons the same way. Allen Harris was ten years old when Alexander was born. And he was delighted to have a younger brother, finally. He had been hoping to become an older brother for quite some time, and had been praying that his mother, who wanted another child dearly.
She had been devastated when she suffered the miscarriage of her second pregnancy. She had cried in her room for days on end, and did not emerge for any reason despite the pleas of her family. And when she finally came out, it took a while for her to start acting relatively normal. For about a month, she rarely spoke, but her recovery was starting.
Then she had happily discovered a month after that she was pregnant again. The odd timing didn't occur to her or her husband, because it had been months since an encounter that could have created the baby. So thus there was no way that she could be pregnant again, but this wasn't even thought of. They all just thanked God for the baby, for another member for their family so soon after the loss of the other baby. The family happily prepared for the birth, which occurred nine months later.
The labor was relatively short, only about three hours later. And there were no complications in either the baby or the mother. Young Alexander, who was named later, was nine pounds and healthy. He emerged crying from his mother, but would soon calm down when he was cleaned and placed in his mother's arms.
As a child, Alexander delighted and awed his parents by his quick learning ability and talents. He was viewed as one of the sweetest and most polite children in the whole neighborhood. His family was in the middle-class, because of the job in the bank that his father had. So he enjoyed some of the pleasures of having some extra money, during a time that many was without such comforts. But the whole family was also really generous with their money, often giving large sums of cash to strangers who needed it. So the family reputation in the middle-classes and the poor class was very high.
Alexander was privately tutored, though he often joined his own age in sports. He was well-liked. But the mask that he would use in another time was nonexistent. Because here, he had loads of self-confidence because of the loving environment that he had grown up in, instead of the tense and often violent environment he would of known if things had turned out differently.
Now, nearing sixteen, he had grown into a confidant young man. His plans for his career were to go into the banking system when he was older, as he was very good with people, money, and numbers. His father's boss had actually shown interest in hiring him the next month, as a sort of apprentice or assistant who helped with everything and was just getting started in the business. He had many things going with him, such as his love and natural ability with numbers and his ability to get along with all sorts of people.
So it was a happy young man with a bounce in his step that was seen on a clear, warmish night. The weather was actually nice for once. And Alexander was strolling home, taking advantage of the good weather, after spending some time with friends most of the day. He was strolling down an open street, nodding and smiling at the ladies, who gave smiles and greetings to the young handsome stranger, when he was knocked aside by someone half-running down the street.
He caught himself with one hand against the ground, quickly bringing himself to his feet, and yelled a half-hearted protest, but the man was already gone. The man who had rudely almost knocked the short (an eternal embarrassment was his stature, he couldn't seem to grow up at all and it seemed he was doomed to be short all his life) (2) young man had also run into a group of people striding 'innocently' down the street. The man and the blond woman were looking rather annoyed, but strangely it was the younger dark-haired woman that stopped them from saying something. With a few words, she slipped the way that the running man had gone.
The incident slipped his mind later, after arriving home. But he would remember it a few nights later. It was not the last time he would see the group. And the next time they met would prove to be the start of a nightmare for years to come.
1. Capture and the start of a Nightmare
A few days later found Alexander, this time casually dressed, in a small café, sitting with some friends. He was enjoying his time of discussing the current politics, and debating it, with his friends. After night started to fall, something that came as a surprise since he was so engrossed in his discussion with a young fellow named Stephen Reynolds, most of his friends had snuck off some time ago. As he should have done, but despite the rash of disappearances and mysterious murders that was taking place in the city, he was taking his time in leaving. He wasn't concerned. After all, he was in good shape and could defend himself if he was attacked, but he didn't think he would be. And when he did decide to leave, long after Stephen was gone; it was too late to avoid what happened next.
Walking home, he got the distant feeling that something was very, very wrong. He had the distinct disturbing feeling that he was being followed. He turned quickly and looked, but didn't see anybody or any sign that any one had ever been there. So he cautiously continued on his way, preparing himself if he was jumped. It didn't help in any way. He was passing by a small, dark, and seemingly alleyway when it happened.
He suddenly found himself being grabbed from the street, and despite his instant struggling, dragged into the alleyway. He fought but whoever was holding him was much stronger than he, and he was getting nowhere. The more he struggled, the tighter the arms became, making any escape impossible. He was dragged further down the dark alleyway, where it would be impossible for anyone to see what was happening. Through his terror, he somehow knew that no one would hear and thus come to his rescue down that alleyway. So he struggled, trying desperately to get away. But he only got bruises for his troubles.
He found himself being thrown against a wall and then held there. And he saw his attacker for the first time that night, but not for the first time. Distantly, he recognized the man as the same man that had been part of the group the other night before. How he remember, he had no idea.
"Oh, what do we have here?" The man chuckled, obviously sensing Alexander's rising terror and despair. He was dark-haired and dressed in obviously expensive clothes, the same kind of clothes that his friend Stephen, who was from a very well off family and often showed it off, would have worn most days. But his expression of smug amusement and complete cruelty was not something that Stephen would have worn. Stephen, who had a heart of gold, would have fainted from the expression that was being directed at Alexander at the moment. There was a hunger that promised pain.
"What do you think you are doing? Let me go…" The rest of Alexander's indignant and terrified words were cut off as he was slammed against the wall painfully. He let out a painful groan as his back felt like it was on fire and something stabbed into his back very painfully, and then let out a scream as he felt the hand that he had just started to try to push away the other get grabbed and twisted in a way it wasn't meant to go. And the resounding crack! That was the result was the most painful thing he had ever felt.
"Yessss, go ahead. Scream. Yell. No one is going to hear you here. And if they do, they wouldn't dare come." The monster grinned cruelly, laughing, as he was obviously enjoying this.
Then two more figures came out of the other side of the alleyway. A man and a woman. Alexander didn't hear them or see them because all of his focus was on his attacker. His sight was starting to dim around the edges, the darkness closing in. The fires raging in his hand was distracting him.
"Daddy, the Kitten screams so prettily." The new voice startled him, making him jump since it came from right beside him. The movement jostled his hand, and he groaned. He swerved his head quickly, and saw another familiar face. It was the dark-haired woman also from the other night, the one that had gone after the man that had run into him. She was staring at him with an unnerving expression, and somewhat blank eyes. She suddenly seemed to snap out of it, and looked at 'Daddy'. "Kitten has power. Deep inside, where the light never reaches."
The man seemed to think for a moment, looking at Alexander for the longest time. This made him very nervous, but he couldn't speak. The eyes of the dark haired woman kept him still. He fought it but was unable to move. His attacker's hands kept the young man's arms and body from leaving the wall, and were obviously leaving lots of bruises. If he survived this, he was going to be a collection of very interesting colors. If he survived, and if he got away. Something that was looking very slim right now.
"What are you saying, Dru?" The man was looking with a somewhat curious expression at his victim pinned to the wall. He just saw a young man, a very handsome man and who was obviously well off by his clothes, but that was it. He looked like any human to him. But he trusted Drusilla with these things, since she was the one that was more in tune with that kind of stuff.
"Let it out of its prison and the very world will feel its power." The one that his attacker called Dru answered, tracing one of the tear tracks on his cheek. She brought the finger to her mouth, tasting it, her face showing her pleasure. "And Kitten tastes really good. His blood is pure and in awashed with power."
'Daddy' suddenly grinned cruelly, obviously thinking of something that would not be pleasant for his trapped victim, not a good sign in his book. Not at all. "Do you want to keep him?"
Dru jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "The Kitten will play with all of us. And we shall have such a good time." That was obviously the answer that he was waiting for. Alexander swallowed, seeing the smirk of pure evil on the man's face. Not good, not good at all.
There was a blur, and then all he knew was pain as his neck was broken open, his life's blood pouring out as he screamed. In shock, he felt the wetness on his neck and the wound was licked closed, sealing the rest of the blood for consumption later. And then the twisted face of the grinning demon looming over him, red blood staining his mouth.
"Yessss, Dru. His blood is pure." Was the last thing he heard as blessed darkness closed in, temporarily ending his torment.
2. The nightmare begins
When he came to, he found himself in an unfamiliar dark room. He was also strapped down on something hard. Panicking, he tried to sit up, but he found that he couldn't. In increasing panic, he looked and found that he was strapped to whatever he was lying on by restraints. His wrists were cuffed and attached above his head. He had no idea what he was strapped to, but it wasn't looking good. Whatever it was, it was dark with what looked like to his horror like dried blood.
He tried to move his feet, and found that they were also attached to what he was strapped on. He couldn't even move them an inch, which he found out by struggling in vain (all that came out of this was his skin breaking open), and felt the cold touch of metal above his ankles. He started to struggle, but all he managed to do was make the metal cut into his skin, making it bleed.
To his terror, it was also discovered at that moment that he only had on his pants. His shirt had disappeared and he just noticed how cold it truly was. Shivering, he looked around.
The room was dark, with no sign of color anywhere, except the black. And the room faintly smelled of mold, blood, and something else that smelled terrible. He gagged at the smell, trying in vain to cover up his nose. What was that?
A door in the room suddenly opened, letting light spill in. The brightness made him gasp and turn his head. It hurt. His eyes had already gotten used to the dark. A low, cruel chuckle made him sharply turn his, despite the pain. The door closed, and he found himself looking at his attacker.
The man came closer to his bed, with that evil smirk that he was really beginning to hate. He stopped near his prisoner and looked with barely concealed glee.
"Having fun?" That smirk again. He obviously knew that he was definitely not having fun. He already hated that smirk.
"Let me go, you…" A hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his next words.
The monster leaned over him, the face of the demon showing. Alexander trembled in terror as he came closer, suddenly speechless. The monster, no vampire because he could now see the fangs, waited for a minute, letting the terror build. He was not amused.
"Listen here, Boy. You will call me Master, nothing else. There are rules here. You are my property, to do with as I say. You have no say. The rules are simple. Do not speak unless spoken to. Screams are allowed, so feel free to scream. Please, scream as much as you want. I am your Master, so you will address me as such. You are to do everything that I tell you to do, or there will be consequences. Break a rule, and you will be punished."
"My name is Alexand…mmm" The man, or Master, had grabbed his chin and shaken it harshly, cutting off his retort. His fingers dug painfully into his captive's skin, breaking the surface. Alexander felt wetness start to drip down his face.
"Do not speak without permission. Your name is Boy now. You may someday earn your name back, but not now. And you call me Master, got it?" When he didn't respond right away, the vampire growled and dragged his fingernails over the boy's chest, leaving blood streaks. The boy groaned in pain and then quickly followed that with a nod.
Angelus leaned back and looked at the boy. And boy he was still, having not stopped growing. His boy, now. And what a beautiful specimen he was. He was glad Dru had suggested keeping him. He was going to have so much fun! And the boy was stubborn, he silently added with glee, seeing the hatred in Boy's eyes. Oh, he's going to have so much fun. What the perfect distraction that Dru had thought of.
He had been growing rather bored lately. And then this boy had come along. When he had seen him at the café, he had smelled the sweetness of the boy's blood. And he had followed him, intent on tasting that wonderful sweet smelling blood. But it was only in the alleyway that he had thought to keep him, instead of kill him outright. He owed that to Drusilla. Drusilla had seen something in the boy. And he had agreed. There was something dark and delicious about the boy, something that was just below the surface. Like a storm that wanted out. A storm that just waited for the chance to come out. He sensed it right now. And the boy would be such a good vampire. He had that potential.
And by keeping the boy alive for now and not automatically turning him, he had such a wonderful prize to play with. The others, William and Darla, had agreed to stay away from the boy for a while. Darla knew her dark boy needed some time to have fun and had recognized that it was best for her to stay away. Of course, her tastes went to slightly different looking humans than Boy. And William was still learning how to be a vampire, having just been turned very recently.
And by keeping the boy alive, he would have lots of chances to taste that delicious blood. Oh, yes. He will have so much fun breaking Boy, then turning him and having even more with the Boy then because there was only so much human bodies could take.
Boy was looking up at him now. The terror he was emanating made Angelus's feel so good.
"Now, what do you call me?" He asked.
Boy muttered something.
Angelus brought his hand down, putting it on the already bloody chest. Slowly, he dug his nails in and dug in. Pulling them down, releasing the blood. Smiling at the sharp intake and pain-filled groan. Waiting for a moment, he then said, very quietly "I can't hear you."
"Master." Came the resigned and pain-filled sound. Satisfied, Angelus grinned cruelly. One wall down. He knew it would be back up, but it would do for now. But now for some fun.
He pulled the lever that was attached to the machine that kept a hold of Boy. The machine turned, adjusting his position. Now, Boy was hanging off the ceiling, in what had to be a very painful position. His arms were stretched above his head, as far as they would go. He was hanging in the air, with his feet also pulled tight. It looked very painful, and by the look on his face and the panting, it was.
"Now, that's a better position." Ignoring the hate filled glare heading his way, he went over to the other wall, out of Alexander's view. Alexander was throbbing in pain. His whole body was on fire. The chains holding his arms above him and his legs below him would not move, and was pulling at his limbs painfully. He tried to follow the vampire, but was extremely nervous in not being able to see his tormenter. The first strike of the whip against his back came as a very unwelcome surprise, and it hurt! But he refused to scream for the monster. He would not give him that pleasure.
Angelus noticed Boy's efforts, and grinned. Yes, a challenge. So be it. Bringing the tail of nine tails hard on the open, pale skin. He upped the pace, striking more and more. Finally, Boy was unable to hold back a scream as his back was turned to raw meat. And finally, the screams started. And the screams served to make Angelus want more. He grinned. Yes, more screams. He didn't even realize how before he craved some screams. But now he had them, and he would strive to hear even more.
Angelus started to go faster, hammering away at skin that was starting to resemble raw meat, with all the blood and the broken skin, drawing up more screams of agony. He started to go faster, faster, and faster. He could do this for a very long time. And with a little sharing of his vampire blood, he could make sure that the pain would continue for a very long time.
There were no more screams to be dragged out of Boy. Now, Boy's throat was raw from the screaming. He run out of the ability to scream and now only groaned from the pain.
Looking at the bruised and bloody body of Boy before him, he smiled. Such a good boy. And so much fun too. Boy was now just hanging there limply, gasping for breath. To make sure that Boy healed fast, he bit into his finger and dropped some vampire blood into Boy's open mouth.
And then he left the room.
3. Times Between
Alexander's ordeal lasted for a very long time. Every day, thanks to the blood that Angelus was careful to always give him to heal, he was healed from the previous night or day. He was tortured for hours on end, by a variety of ways. Whips, fire, and more. Then there were the times that he was chained to the wall and just left there. There, Dru or sometimes Darla would often find him and he would go through hours of agony that was very different than the torture that Angelus inflicted.
But he always was healed. And thanks to some demon healer made cream that Angelus applied often, there were no scars to show it. Physical at least. Angelus loved beauty, and ugly scars that mar the skin were repulsive to him.
The search for him after he had gone missing lasted for two years after his vanishing. His family spent much of their money in the search. And his poor mother started to fade. But he was never found. So two years to the day that he never came home, his funeral was held. He was given a gravestone in a cemetery outside London even though there was no body. And eventually, their lives went on. But none of his family ever recovered completely. His mother survived, barely, and went on to have her first daughter, who was named Alexandria for his memory.
But he was still alive. Two months after the ordeal began; he was taken with Angelus and company when they left London. And hope started to fade.
His training began two years after he was kidnapped. He was taught in manners, manners that even one of his raising didn't know. He was taught how to act like a prince, a gentleman, a merchant, and many other roles. He was tutored in languages, history, culture, and much else. The reason for this was the Angelus recognized his intelligence and took advantage of it to teach him. At first, he went along with it because it was a break from pain. But then, he even started to enjoy it.
He was also tutored in weapons, with a magical restraint that made him unable to really attack or to use the weapons against those holding him attached, to his great disappointment. It looked like a chain that fitted around his neck, and couldn't be taken off by anyone but Angelus. He was being groomed to be the best vampire he could ever be.
And he prospered. He was given more freedom and often went out with the vampires outside. He couldn't run away because of the restraint, so it was safe. And slowly, he started to change. All hope of escape was lost, and he begin to change because of it. He allowed himself to attempt to look at the vampire family with eyes other than a victim and captive. He actually grew to care for Drusilla, especially. And from her, to Spike. Darla, he hated with a passion. Still. Angelus, he would hate as long as he was human, and perhaps even after he was not.
Finally, it was decided that he was ready to be turned about four years later. To him, it came as a surprise that so little time had gone by. He had filled out and stopped growing. He had just turned nineteen (but was still short to his utter disgust) on the night that Angelus finally turned him.
Alexander's turning was really simple. He was lying in the room that had been given for his use, in a house that had belonged to some random victim. There was no window of course. He wasn't allowed that as of yet. He was reading, when Dru came in the room.
Alexander was lying on the bed, exhausted, hours later. Even after all the practice, ten times in a row was exhausting. After all, he was still human. He all of a sudden heard voices. He looked up to see Angelus, who was talking with Spike at the door about something.
He had come to care for both Drusilla and Spike the same way. Drusilla reminded him of a little girl at times, and he happily would play with her with her dolls and Mrs. Edith. Spike had become a sort of brother to him. After all they had met soon after Spike's own turning. (2) And Spike hadn't changed so much then. He did later. So thus the result of their continued interaction was that both came to care for the other. And Spike was really protective of him. Strange, I know. But he was.
Darla he didn't like. And the feeling was mutual. But they tolerated each other. Frankly, he thought she could benefit from being thrown in a lake of holy water. But he had never shared that view with anyone, especially Angelus.
Angelus was next to the bed now, bringing Alexander out of his thoughts. Seeing the possessive aspect in the vampire's gaze, he quietly turned his head and bared his neck. He knew that look. After all, he had had years to get to know it. Angelus struck, but was strangely gentle. And the next thing that Alexander knew was the feeling of the blood leaving his body. Before he was fully drained and was at the point of death, Angelus tore his wrist with his fangs and put it over the human's lips. He tried to shallow as much as the blood, and did get a lot, before he stopped moving as his heart slowed and stopped.
Angelus came back, cleaning his mouth off carefully, and went to prepare. And the dead body of Alexander waited for his awakening to his new life.
5. Epilogue-1993 (3)
Night found Alex on the roof of the warehouse that the Anointed One had previously rules from. Now, though, it was Spike. Spike had killed the Anointed One just a few hours ago. And now they ruled.
Alex looked over the roof tops of Sunnydale. They were here to find a cure for Drusilla. Drusilla had been almost killed in Prague, and even though she didn't die, she had been severely weakened. Now she was sick. And they Spike and him, had brought her to the Hellmouth to find a cure to restore her health.
The Hellmouth. Where, as the rumors went, his sire lived. The last time he had seen his sire was a very long time ago. When Angelus had been cursed with the soul, and then had abandoned them. And then it also went downhill again when Darla had kicked them out. He still hated her, after all this time and the feeling was still mutual. The only reason she hadn't staked him was that his skills and abilities were far greater than hers. He would win in a fight, hands down.
When he had heard that she had been staked, he had celebrated for three nights straight. The only reason he hadn't staked her himself was that he hadn't seen her in decades. She would have been already dust if he had. He had bypassed her power years ago. And she had been staked by her own childe. How ironic was that. He still often chuckled when he thought of that happy thought.
Angel. That is what Angelus was calling himself now. And he was helping the Slayer. Well, he could have that blamed on the soul. But still. Honor was honor. But even a souled vampire should not hunt his own kind and help the damned Slayer!
Well, his only priority was Drusilla. The only reason he cared about the presence of the Slayer (who was named Buffy out of all names!) was that she was a worthy foe. And that she wouldn't hesitate about staking Drusilla, Spike, and him. Spike can have her, frankly, since he was so set upon it.
He jumped off the roof to go check out the town and to go find some delicious blond. One thing he knew, night was coming for Sunnydale. And this night was something that could not be stopped.
How did you like it? Just an idea that came into my head. Sequel maybe? Not sure yet.
I don't know when Xander was born in canon, so back off. This is my story.
Forget when Spike started to call himself Spike, but this is again my story. It is different from canon. So there.
I don't know what year that season 2 of Buffy was supposed to be set in, so 1993 is my guess. Whatever year season 2 of Buffy is, that is when the Epilogue takes place.