This is a tiny bit long for a drabble, and kinda sad without being sad since we all know how season 7 ends, but just imagine how bitter he must be? Also - I've been humped by the shmoop monster: apologies all around.


"God Xander…. I'm so sorry. I could've… I'm so sorry." Willow was crying on his couch and on his shoulder, which Xander reflected wasn't really fair but he let her get on with it, making shushing noises into her hair. "I… I asked Tara if she could heal you… she said…"

"She already did, Wills. I know she can't heal me, but she took away the pain. That makes a difference."

"I should've been there… Xander I should've… I have the mojo. I can break that stupid priest in half but I can't… I can't bring your eye back. I should've been there and I'm so sorry."

"Wills! Wills it's okay, it's… hell it's just an eye. It could've been so much worse."

"How?" Her voice was a thin creak of pain.

"I… could've lost an arm. And I need the arms for the useless flailing of weapons." Xander said brightly, thinking fast now the question had been asked. "Or a leg. And that would've made it much harder to run away. Or he could've ripped an ear off, horribly disfiguring me instead of giving me a suave patch – that wouldn't have been good." He would need both if work ever resumed, which somehow he doubted, because this wasn't a weekend apocalypse, and it wasn't something he expected to walk, stump, or crawl away from. "Oh! I know. Caleb could've pulled off my penis. That would have been infinitely worse than losing an eye. Tragic, in fact."

That finally elicited the chuckle he'd been waiting for, it was watery and pathetic, but it was a laugh. He kept it up, bad one-eyed-pirate jokes flying thick and fast, how grateful he was not to have a peg leg or a hook-hand. When Xander finally gently shoed her out, Willow was laughing.

By the time Spike got home from his reconnaissance, Xander's mood had worn away under pain meds and exhaustion. Tara had healed the mangled tissue of his socket, but there was a sharp headache hovering behind the gaping hole where his eye should be, and nothing could bury that. The vampire sat beside him on the couch, and as they leaned heavily against each other Xander was reminded that it could have been so much worse. He could've lost an arm, and he wouldn't be able to clutch Spike to him. He could have lost the leg that hooked itself across the backs of Spike's thighs and dragged him down. Could have lost the ear that the vampire murmured sweet apocalyptic nothings against.

Spike didn't stare at the socket in guilt, just kissed the corners of his eyelids before sinking into an orgasm induced coma. Xander figured there was worse than losing an eye to a battlefield, and followed him down the rabbit hole.


Toldja