No One Is Alone
URL: http://www.kibathediva.net/kibathediva/fic/alone.html
Title:
Author: Kiba Rika
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel property of Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar, Greenwalt, and Fox. No infringement intended.
Rating: G
Summary: Buffy returns to Xander at the warehouse after Riley leaves.
Spoilers: Since this story takes place during the Buffy episode "Into the Woods," any episodes from Seasons one through five up through that point may be spoiled herein.
Distribution: Please do not reprint without permission. For information, contact kibawrite@hotmail.com.
Author's Notes: I'd like to dedicate this to Rebecca. As supplementary material, see the lyrics to "No One is Alone," from the musical "Into the Woods," at http://staff.norman.k12.ok.us/~sandrae/assignments/fairy_tales/lyrics/alone.html.
Feedback: Constructive critique is welcome. Flames will be ignored.
He waits for her at the warehouse. His fingers interlaced with the cold metal. "Run," he'd told her. She did. And now he waits. In case she needs him. He imagines for a minute that she enters the warehouse, hugs him and whispers in his ear.
"Thank you," she says. She takes his hands in hers. "Well, Riley's waiting outside, so I better - "
And he nods and smiles and watches her go.
But that's not how it works.
Instead, she runs in, panting. Rivers of black, equal parts mascara and tears, run down her face. She runs to him, sobs flying from her mouth. She wraps her small arms around him, those tiny arms filled with supernatural strength. She looks up at him. Her eyes are glistening, and between gasps she manages to ask him, "Xander," she sighs. "Why does everyone who loves me leave?"
He squeezes her tighter and looks up. Standing there, in the door, is the other person who knows the answer and doesn't care. She smiles sympathetically, and tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. Thanks for the strength, Will, he thinks.
Then he looks back at the wreck of a woman he holds in his arms. He knows the answer to her question. "I don't know," he says as sincerely as he can. A few years ago he would have kissed her, taken advantage of this shared moment. But it's wrong, now. "I don't know," he whispers into her hair.
Then he silently walks her home, and after a hasty good night, goes to see the woman he loves.