Title: Xander's Thoughts: What About Us?
Author: Lysa-uk
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, please. lysaharris@fsmail.net
Distribution: As long as you ask first.
Spoilers: Early Season Three
Pairing: Willow/Xander angst
Summary: Xander reflects during the scene in 'Consequences' when he's sat on the stairs, all alone, in the library.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned here. They belong to Joss Whedon/UPN/Mutant Enemy etc. The song belongs to Point Break and Warner Music. No copyright intended. Please don't sue, I have nothing.
Notes: More angst. The song is by a really cheesy boy band type called Point Break. Don't ask me why I have this in my collection, cos I really don't know.
Well, I think to myself, my life is over. I make my way into the library and open the swing doors, finding myself all alone. Okay, so maybe I'm being a little dramatic, I reason. I walk past the table in the middle of the room and find myself drawn to the steps to the stacks. I think it may be the darkness that's calling me there, because it matches what I'm feeling inside, and I sit across the stairs. It's strange being in here on my own because it's not often it happens, even though the only people who seem to inhabit this place are us Scoobies, and that's usually when research is needed on the latest creature feature. The only person who always seemed to be a constant here is Giles, and even he's not here now. I think he's somewhere talking with Buffy about what they should do about Faith. I know that's where my attention should lie as well. Faith just killed someone. A human. But somehow, I can't seem to get that image of Willow out of my mind, sitting there in the empty cafeteria next to Buffy, her eyes so full of pain. I wanted right there and then to tell her that…to tell her that Faith didn't mean anything, not like she did.
Look into my mind
There's visions of you
I cannot sleep at night
For fear of the truth
Should I take the blame?
Or should I stand in your way?
Or is it too much, too late?
It was true. I hadn't loved, didn't love, Faith, and I know that I didn't mean anything to her. But I am an eighteen year old guy, who was offered something on a plate by a slightly older woman who seemed fond of leather. How was a supposed to say no to that? I know that it was probably not the best thing I've ever done in life, but I can't turn the clock back. I shouldn't be feeling guilty over something I shouldn't be guilty about.
It had taken so long to realise that the light that had once been in her eyes when she looked at me went beyond the bonds of friendship, not until she stopped looking at me like that, not until that light was reserved for someone else. Ever since that night in the hospital after the attack by Drusilla, I knew what I felt. But after everything, I had to forget that it ever happened because it hurt too much to dwell on it – all until that night before Homecoming in her room. Everything that I'm feeling now is coming back to that night, and I want so desperately to get her out of my mind. But I can't.
Look into my eyes
I'm dazed by your light
It took me by surprise
Your sadness last night
Maybe it is fate
That we made this mistake
Now it's too much, too late
I feel the resentment build up inside me again, and it's for so many things. Resentment towards Oz for taking Willow away from me, and for being the nice, cool guy that I could never be. I know that's unfair, but I don't care. This is my mope. I know that Oz cares about Willow. I only have to remember that night of the witch-hunt to see that. I resent Buffy because I had needed someone to talk to about all of the stuff that was going on in his head after Cordelia and Oz had found out, but she had been too busy. Who else was I supposed to talk to, Deadboy? Like that was ever going to happen. I know that she was going through her own stuff, breaking up – or was it making up? I'm not sure – with Angel, and helping Willow through her stuff. But it was like they all blamed me. I'm not being naïve, I know that I was partly to blame, but it wouldn't have killed the people around me to help me, too. I resent my self for not telling Willow how I felt about her before she went back to Oz. Most of all, he resents Willow for going back to Oz.
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
What about us?
Are you strong enough
To throw the dream away?
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
Reality, come back to me
Come back to me
I don't really resent Willow. I love her, and that's the whole problem. When I was younger I always thought that, when the time came for me and Willow to go our separate ways, it would be her questioning and commiserating it. Being friends with Willow was so easy for so long, it hurts so much to know that we have reached the point where we could hurt each other so much without the other knowing.
Look into the past
Reflect on the pain
Did we move too fast?
While feeling the strain
Why are we feeling this hate?
Now it's too much, too late
She's not perfect, I know that. It had hurt me when, that night when they had been facing the Apocalypse for the third time or something, they – she – hadn't even told me about it. She had seen me in the street, hugged me and said she loved me. That was my tip-off that something major was going down that they hadn't even bothered to tell me about. I was pissed at the time, and maybe that's another reason why I did what I did with Faith. I know they thought they were keeping me out of the loop because they 'cared' and they wanted to 'keep me safe', but all it really did was make me feel useless and expendable. They hadn't even taken into consideration just how I would have felt if they – she – had died, without the opportunity to defend them – her. They didn't give him the chance to die with them – to die with her.
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
What about us?
Are you strong enough
To throw the dream away?
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
Reality, come back to me
I feel all dramatic again, but I can't help the way I feel. All I want to do when I see her is scream at her that maybe what happened between us happened for a reason, but I know she wouldn't listen.
Maybe it is fate
That we made this mistake
Now it's too much, too late
I know she knew what I was saying before the words were even out of my mouth. I saw her eyes, the ways she immediately looked down, her hands fidgeting, and she knew. That's when I realised all of the implication of that one act in that motel room, and that it didn't just affect me, as stupid as that was. I felt another little part of my heart break for her right there and then, but another part of me was screaming, wanting answers to all those questions I never dared to ask when I had the chance.
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
What about us?
Are you strong enough
To throw the dream away?
What about us?
Are you scared enough
That you need someone to run to?
Reality, come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me
I get up from the hard stairs I've been sitting on, driving myself mad with all of these useless thoughts, tired of thinking about this, wanting to feel something other than this guilt that I want to kick myself at feeling, because I know that I didn't really do anything wrong, and the pain at knowing that Willow is hurting because of something I did.
I might not be able to tell Willow that I love her, and I might not be able to tell her that I'm sorry for everything wrong that I've done in the past fourteen years of friendship, because I know that she's moved on from all of that with Oz, and knowing any of what I'm feeling will just hurt her all the more. And that's the last thing that I want.
I make my way out of the library and head out of the school and towards Faith's motel, desperate to do something for someone other than myself, and to get Willow out of my head, just for a few minutes, at least, and to try and talk Faith into coming clean, to tell the truth. Something I'm not able to do myself, and try to do something right for once in my life.