I actually wrote this before I wrote the main fic. I've debated for awhile whether to post it at all, but since it technically takes place in the same world (I mean, it IS Future Past), I went ahead and tagged it as a bonus chapter here.

He could see his that own son and Olivia were fighting some of the Risen behind him, and they looked like they would be fine together – Olivia had gotten much better with her swordplay, and having trained Inigo with Siegfried, his son was no slouch.

Xander instead beelined for the young man across the broken bridge (had this version actually learned to use Siegfried?), slicing through a Risen that was about to ambush him and Owain. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Leo, Lissa, and Niles going for Owain, Maribelle and Ricken going for Brady, and Virion and Panne going for Yarne; he knew that his alternate nephew and their friends would be okay, and so he focused on the alternate Inigo.

"Inigo!" he called once he was close enough.

The boy jumped and whirled around, his eyes wide as he noted him. "What- F-Father? Is that you…?"

A quick look over and Xander was able to tell that the boy was very similar to the Inigo that he already knew; rose blond hair, blue eyes, far too skinny, teenage gangliness. But there were shadows under his eyes, and his hair was plastered to his head from both blood and the rain that was falling. He had several injuries on him, and far more scars than Xander was comfortable with, but he was alive.

He reached out to cup Inigo's cheek. Maybe this wasn't the one that came to Nohr and became 'Laslow', but this was still his son. The fact that he could wield Siegfried was proof of his divine lineage.

"My apologies, Inigo. I'm afraid that I am not the father you knew. I was summoned here from another world to assist," he told him. It was better to break the illusion now than get his hopes up.

Inigo seemed to deflate. "Oh…" His eyes flickered to the sword that Xander was holding with his free hand. "…That's definitely Siegfried," he mused, eyes flickering between the identical swords. "And I just saw you cut down a Risen with it. So you aren't lying."

"Indeed," Xander said, and then sighed, pulling him closer. "And when I saw that stunt that you pulled on the bridge, I thought my heart was going to stop." Inigo seemed to be blushing, but it was hard to tell with how dark it was. "I was sure that I was going to watch you die," he continued softly, "and that I would be helpless to do anything, Las- Inigo."

Damn it all, he had slipped and accidentally almost called him Laslow.

"Did… you just…?" Inigo furrowed his brow, and then relaxed. "You really are my father."

Xander stopped himself from blushing, but he could swear he felt the tips of his ears turn warm. "Oh, you believe me?"

Inigo nodded, glancing around to make sure that no Risen were sneaking up on them before turning back to his father. "Yeah… it's funny, you know?" Xander tilted his head. "When I was little, you would tell me stories of the man you gave me my middle name from, Laslow. You would tell me how strong, brave, and kind he was – as well as how much of a flirt he was while giving me a scolding look."

Xander couldn't help but let out a chuckle at both that and at Inigo's sheepish expression before the boy continued.

"You would tell me how that, over everyone else that you knew, he was your best friend, the man that you trusted with your life." Inigo chewed on his lip for a moment, and then gazed up into his eyes, firm, determined, looking much like Xander's retainer. "But… there's more to those stories, isn't there?"

His alternate had raised a very intelligent boy. "Perhaps there is," Xander smirked.

Inigo looked thoughtful. "Hmm… If Laslow were here, Father, what would he have done?"

It took Xander a moment before he was able to find the proper words. "I believe that he would have done the exact same thing that you would have, Inigo: sacrificed himself so that the people that he loved would have lived to fight another day, no matter how much they would have protested otherwise. And I would have felt my heart stop had he done the same."

There was silence, only broken by the sound of fighting around them. Still, the others were keeping the Risen sufficiently distracted, at least. Inigo finally spoke up again.

"…I see. I think I understand now."

Xander's eyebrows went up. "Do you, now?"

Inigo smiled at him. "I'm not entirely sure how this works, but stranger things have happened in my life, you know? But I understand now why you would always tell me stories of your friend."

"In that case," Xander said, moving his hand to his shoulder and giving him a squeeze, "you have heard what I will be telling you next, and I will say it again. Please stay vigilant. I don't want to experience something as horrible as your death."

"Father…" Inigo looked like he wanted to cry. "I will do my best. For you."

"Thank you, Inigo," Xander said, pulling the young man into his arms and holding him. "You are not merely my son… you are my cherished friend. I wish you only the best in whatever you choose to do with your life. And come what may, once I leave this world, I will never forget you."

"Nor I you," Inigo said with that familiar smile, basking in the hug for a moment before he pulled back.

Xander smiled back at him. "Good. Well then, let's ensure your return to Ylisse!"