Chapter Text
Shit.
Xander rubbed his eyes, stressed out of his mind. They hadn't slept, not after the meteor landed and the infection began to spread. PEIP knew that the meteor was coming but they had no way of knowing the spores were on it. They'd been suspicious of its direction and estimated crash location, but they had no way to plan. The lack of planning stressed him, the growing infection stressed him, and Xander didn't know what to do.
John had been sent out with a brigade of soldiers and orders to kill everyone roughly two hours previously. He knew when they got home, John would shut down, distraught from the massacre he was ordered to take part in. Xander didn't doubt John would find a way around the ruling, Xander himself had already planned a way around the order in order to hopefully cure the infection, but they had no idea if anyone was still alive in the town. If there was, and John mistook them, killed them on accident? John would surely be down for the count for days from grief.
They would get through it, John would be fine. If they could save the town they would, if they couldn't they would find an excuse. They had to have hope, they had to have faith. If they believed there was hope they had a chance. They knew next to nothing about the infection, about the Hive, so there very well could be a way to fix the problem that didn't involve killing innocents.
Xander jumped at the sound of his phone ringing, and fumbled to take it out. He was surprised by the name on the screen. They weren't supposed to make personal calls while on missions, but there was John, calling him out of nowhere. "John? You can't call me while you're on a mission, you know that," he said quietly.
John didn't respond. John was always prompt, especially in situations like this. Xander loved the way John spoke, you never wondered what he truthfully felt or meant because he was always direct. He hated breaking rules for little things so this was important. The silence continued on, making him more worried. If John wasn't being direct and prompt while on a mission, something was incredibly wrong.
"John? John, what's wrong?" Xander asked, an edge of concern now in his voice.
Why wasn't he speaking? His breathing was labored, he sounded as though he was in pain. Xander tried to breathe, but he could feel the dread growing, threatening to drown him in fear. Then he began to cough, clearly coughing something up from the sounds of it and Xander wasn’t sure there was anything more terrifying. "John! Talk to me, what's happening?!"
"Xan," John grunted, followed by a banging sound. "I'm infected. The entire brigade is gone. Don't trust the helicopter. Should have two citizens, if they survive to get on it."
"You're-..." Xander paused and took a deep breath. He had to remain strong, he had to support his husband. This was very possibly a death sentence, his husband was dying while on the phone with him. Xander couldn’t let his emotions take over, he had to provide stability for John. "Okay. It's going to be okay, John, just fight it. Okay? I'm here. I'm ordering for a larger group to get to your location. You're going to be fine, we'll figure it out. You-"
"No cure," John mumbled, his voice sounding further away like he’d lost the strength to hold the phone to his face. "Eyes burn. Webby gone. No fight."
"John, no, you'd better not," Xander cried, unable to stop the tears from falling from his eyes. He wanted to stay strong but his husband was dying on the other side of the phone, all alone somewhere in hiding as an evil force took over his mind. He was gaining the attention of the room, but he didn’t care. "You can't give up, that's not what you do. You fight, God damn it. You're the most stubborn man I've ever met, you can't stop that now."
Schaeffer quickly walked over to him, confusion and panic clear in her eyes because she knew there was only one thing that could get this sort of reaction out of Xander. She mouthed, “What?” but didn’t look like she expected Xander to reply.
"I love you," John whispered melodically
God, he was singing, he was singing. John wasn’t supposed to sing, not now, not with this chaos happening. He only sang softly in the comfort of their quiet home. He wasn’t supposed to sing now. Not now, with the infection causing people to sing. He was losing him, he was losing John, he was dying and losing himself and Xander was helpless to stop it. John was dying, he was dying all alone and Xander just had to listen.
"No! John, no!" he sobbed, holding tightly onto the phone, his eyes wide, seeking Schaeffer’s gaze for support. She put her hands on his shoulders and held them tightly. What could Xander do? What could he do? It was too much, it was all too much. What could he do?
"I love you, I love-"
John suddenly cut off, and it sounded as though his phone was placed in its pocket on his vest. Xander listened as rustling occured, resting his head on Schaeffer’s chest as he sobbed. His husband wasn’t talking to him anymore, wasn’t responding to him, to anyone or anything. He was moving, Xander could hear him moving, but he wasn’t there, John wasn’t there. John was gone, John was gone, he was gone and he was moving.
A shot rang out, and Xander gasped in his sobs. He was being held tightly by Schaeffer at that point, she was stroking his hair and whispering to him but he wasn’t hearing a word of it. All he could hear was John’s singing, those rotten words that went so far against what John truly believed. The Hive was using his words, using his body to do terrible things. His John, his beautiful, intelligent, stubborn John, they were using him to reach their goals. Xander couldn’t hang up though, he couldn’t, because some part of him said his husband still needed him, even if he wasn’t-wasn’t-
The phone was pulled from his hands and he couldn’t put up a fight, instead he clung to Schaeffer like his life depended on it. He needed something stable, something real as his world crumbled around him. Nothing was ever going to be okay again, how could it be? John was infected, he was gone. For all they knew there was no cure, there was no solution, ‘no answers to be found’ as John sang. How was he supposed to lead without John beside him? How was he supposed to do anything?
“We’ll find a cure,” Schaeffer whispered, “we’ll save them. Believe in me, if you can’t believe in yourself right now. We need you, Xander, you’re the only one who can see us through this.”
“John’s gone,” Xander said through his sobs.
“And we might be able to get him back, but only if you remain strong and help lead us through this crisis. I’ll be here by your side every step of the way, but we need you, Xander, you can do this,” she said, knowing the sort of thoughts that had to be going through his head.
He knew she was right, that he had to remain strong, that he had to lead them. If he failed to do so his plan to try and cure the infected would be vetoed and they would all be killed. It was his word as one of the greatest minds to ever work at PEIP that gave them the chance in the first place. Without Xander, the chief of staff for the army would order all the infected to be shot twice in the head, once in the heart, and thrown in the incinerator. If he continued his appeal to the science side of the situation, they had a chance. John might still have a chance.
“Okay,” Xander finally said, pulling away to wipe at his eyes. “Put out the order to round up the infected and have them placed in the containment cells in the science building, not in the brig. Outfit them with masks and sound cancelling headphones, you know the standard procedure for these situations.”
Because of the wretched order to eradicate the infection, they hadn’t been properly outfitted, it was deemed a regular army mission, which was why he wasn’t involved. If they had, if John had a mask that cleaned the particles from the air, if Xander had been there to watch his back… he might not be dead. There was no time to dwell on that though, he had infected to oversee the containment of.
“Sir! There’s been an explosion in the theater,” a soldier called.
“What?” Xander asked, blowing his nose with the tissue provided by Schaeffer. He couldn’t grieve now, he could grieve when he got home, but he couldn’t grieve when the infection was still out there.
“It seems like the meteor was… destroyed,” the soldier said.
“How?” Schaeffer asked, quickly going over to the screen to see for herself. “You’re right, it does look as though he was destroyed. That doesn’t mean the spores or the infection is gone though.”
Xander took one last moment to compose himself before going over as well. “There are likely a lot of infected in that area. It will take time to work our way into downtown since that is the most populated area. We’ll need to section off the town in order to properly clear everywhere. Schaeffer, can I trust you to head that for me?”
Schaeffer nodded and said, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. While you do that, I’ll-”
“Sorry to interrupt!” an out of breath voice called from the doorway. “Survivors are coming! Please give them the go ahead to come in, they need medical attention and we’ll test them when they come in.”
Xander looked to Rebecca Barnes and nodded, turning to Schaeffer who put the call in. Becky smiled quickly at him and ran off once more, he assumed to go catch the people as they came in and assist in the medical help they needed. He turned back to Schaeffer after watching the nurse go, alerting her that she needed to go do what he'd said.
They had work to do, and in John's name and in his memory, they would do it. Xander could grieve later. For now he needed to organize the cause and make sure survivors were taken care of as well as making sure the infection didn't get off the island. He was going to make John proud, whether or not his husband got to see his achievement.