Title: Explanation
Author: Jadecow
E-mail: nuttynutgirl@yahoo.com
Spoilers/Warnings: Hell's Bells, Normal Again, brief mentioning of The Body and The Gift.
Summary: Post Normal Again -Xander and Willow talk about the whole running off thing.
Notes: First off, a big hug to Sarah who read this even though the poor child doesn't get UPN (the horror). This is a first Buffy fic for me, so as always, if you feel something is wrong/OOC, let me know and it won't happen again…I couldn't pass up all the angst.
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Explanation
By Jadecow
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Willow's in the kitchen when I go to get some water. Aspirin is my friend. She doesn't say anything and neither do I, but we do this really entertaining dance in the space between the sink and counter. Silence as I swallow the pills and rinse out the glass. Never let it be said that I don't do my part to keep casa de Buffy clean.

"Are you okay?" She finally asks.

She doesn't sound all okay herself. But I don't say that, I just shrug. "A little sore."

She nods, accepting it. She accepts a lot of things. No explanation for running out, just that I was scared and she goes with it. I like that.

But it's very silent in the room. I've come to hate silence. I don't want to open my mouth because if I do, I'm gonna start rambling. Like before with Buffy. Just talking because I've spent a week alone now silence is really getting to be an issue. I would have smacked myself in the head with the frying pan to get me to shut the hell up. Willow picks the object in question off the counter and starts to put it away.

"Uh, you might want to wash my face off of that first." I say, just to say something.

She looks at me, normal Willow concern for my skull --which is thankfully not crushed in yet. But now she looks guilty. "I didn't stay with her. I just gave her the antidote and left. I should have stayed."

I don't know what to say. But I have to say something. Guilty Willow isn't fun. "Hey, one bright side to being locked in the basement with a demon --I stopped thinking about Anya for a little bit." Oh, I didn't say that out loud. Please don't start me talking any more then that.

Thank God Will can read me well. She just turns around and starts rinsing off the pan. I want to look, make a joke about dents shaped like my forehead, but I don't. I just stand there leaning against the counter, wishing it wasn't so silent.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Oh here I go again with the talking. I want to shut up, not bring it all up anymore because I really am tired of thinking about it.

She turns to look at me, surprised. "Why would I be mad at you? You're not the one that just almost got us all killed."

I'll ignore the guilt trop because I still don't know what to say to that. "I should have called. Told you that I was alive."

The frying pan's dripping water on the floor. Willow looks down at it, but doesn't move. "I was worried."

"I know."

"You just disappeared."

"I…" Vocal chords have locked up. I think it's because of the very big lump in my throat that hasn't left since I left her.

"I was really worried."

I'm a moron. Will looks like she might cry. I don't know what to say. I can't say anything. She deserves an explanation. She really does.

"I…I couldn't do it."

"Do what?"

"Go through with it. I didn't want to hurt her, but…" When I can't find words, the situation's pretty grim.

"What did he show you?"

"He didn't just show. I felt it. I felt everything, Will." Wow. I sound like I'm going through puberty again. Squeaky.

She just looks at me, when I can meet her eyes for a second, she's really just worried. Not mad. I find myself taking again.

"It...It felt kind of nice." Ops. Now that wasn't supposed to be said aloud. God, I didn't even want to think about it like that, but I swear it's Willow's fault. She brings out the truth in me. What's up with that?

"What felt nice?"

"Apathy. Ya know, just not feeling anything…It felt really good...And that scares me so much."

From the look on her face she's worried. Great. I'm not making sense and I'm almost shaking again. God, where is a frying pan wielding Buffy when you need her? Willow's just looking at me. She doesn't know what to say, if she even understands with I'm trying to say without actually saying it.

"I turned into him, and it wasn't that bad. Not 'till the end. Until then, no feelings. Then--" I swallow. Damn lump. "I killed her. He showed me. But it wasn't a show. It was like living it. And there were no feelings, even if it should have hurt, some of it should have. The things we said to each other.…And then all of a sudden just pure rage. I don't know which was worse." I can barely hear myself speaking, I'm not sure if Willow can.

"Xander…" She doesn't know what to say. That's okay, neither do I, but I keep talking anyway. I just want to keep the silence away.

"I was --am, I am-- scared. I didn't want to loose her, but I couldn't do that. Couldn't live my life like that. I know it wasn't real, but…It could be. I liked feeling numb so much. It's like in my blood. I'm gonna turn out like that. I can't--" Deep breathing sometimes helps. Sometimes. "Don't let me, please? God, please don't let me turn out like that."

Okay, definitely shaking now. I can't even look at Willow. I need to do this. I need to talk because if I keep thinking about it in circles like I have, I'll go insane. I need her to tell me that it's okay to be so scared. I need her to tell me I didn't make a mistake. I need the tears that I know are coming to go away.

I don't cry for things like this. I just don't. I've cried for Joyce and I cried when Buffy died. But I do not cry over fear, over broken hearts…Yet here I am on the verge of tears. Willow's not saying anything. I don't even think she can understand what I'm saying. I have to make it clearer.

"Please, Willow, don't let me turn into him. I can't...Promise me you won't let me."

Still silence. But she doesn't have to say anything, because she hugs me, hitting a few bruises that I can hardly feel anymore because that hole is back in my chest but it's bigger now. So big and everything else is so dark…I'm crying. I hate it but I can't stop. I holding Willow in a death grip and crying like a baby. This is supposed to go the other way. I'm supposed to be the comfortador. Not being the one who has to cry because the future is so terrifying.

Willow doesn't let me go, but she pulls back a few inches to look me in the eyes. It hurts, but it's comforting too. There's nothing but love in her eyes.

"I promise I won't let you."

She means it. I lean my head forward so our foreheads are touching. My eyes are still tearing, but I can smile a little. I can breathe again. I didn't even know I couldn't, but now there's no more panic.

"But," She continues, her voice serious. "I don't think I have much to worry about."

"You don't?" I can't move, can't even open my eyes, so I just stand here breathing in Willow.

"Nope." There's a smile in her voice, and I'm sure I'd see it if I could move, but I still can't. I don't want to.

"Why not?"

"You're worried. If you weren't worried, then I'd worry about you not worrying."

I'm laughing. Not a lot, but just enough because sometimes I really love Willow. I give her a quick kiss on the forehead and another tight little squeeze before I pull away. Well, as far away as I can get in the little space.

"Thank you, Willow."
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The End.