Chapter 33

Unclean

Xander comes home drunk and angry again. When the door slams shut, the shockwave travels through the rafters and rattles the glassware shelf above the sink. I wince, knowing what is to come and return to vigorously scrubbing at the pans. Try as I might, the caked on crud just won't come off. I know if I speak to them, they will become clean. But they will vanish and what will I have to cook with then?

Xander thunders into the room, ripping open the refrigerator and pulling a beer from the lightless, mouldy interior. The cap hits the floor in slow motion, heavy and ancient.

"How was work?" I say, mustering up the courage.

"What work?" He said, swallowing back. "Turned up at the building site and they had all gone. The foreman, the sparkies, the other carpenters… they just left. They all left me. Like you did."

"But the building?"

"That left too. Sucked down into a hole. Straight to hell. Typical. How's a guy supposed to earn a crust in a town like this?" He says. He wears a thick, plaid red shirt and brown workers pants, a carpentry belt hangs from his muscular hip. His hair slick with sweat and oil, his eyes sunken and dark like his fathers. His mother? She warned me not to marry him, but I took it as a bitter stab at her husband, not at the boy who had my heart and my body. And now the pan won't come clean and the fridge light is broken and he is drunk and angry again.

"This pan just won't get clean." I say.

"Well that's your fault. Isn't on me no more." He says, eyeing me coldly. He drinks from his beer.

"I need help."

"That's what he is for." Xander says, gesturing to the ornate metal cage shaped like a little victorian doll house. Inside Giles is sitting on a perch, reading from a book. His tweed and hair matted with dried white bird droppings and feathers.

"Hyenas" Giles reads "are feliform carnivoran mammals of the family Hyaenidae. They are known to drive off larger predators despite having a reputation in popular culture for being cowardly. Hyenas are primarily nocturnal animals, but sometimes venture from their lairs in the early-morning hours."

I turn back to Xander, wondering how exactly the librarian could be any help right now, and am met with that same look of dissapoint and contempt he gave me when I ran away. When I cheated on him. The look I deserve.

I look down at the dishes. If the pan wasn't getting cleaner then maybe the dagger would. I raise the two bladed, serrated monstrosity and set to work scrubbing at the blood.

"Careful you don't cut yourself." Xander says. "We both know you're clumsy."

"I am better these days. Besides, it's cursed for Slayers, not people like us."

"Hyenas feature prominently in the folklore and mythology of human cultures, and their body parts are used in witchcraft to…"

"People like us?" Xander says in a razor edged way that drags over my nerves. "What do you mean, people like us?"

"The female spotted hyena's external genitalia closely resembles that of the male."

"I… I meant not Slayers."

"As in sidekicks?"

"Well, more support Scoobies."

"As in the Zeppos." He says, through gritted teeth.

"Their dentition is similar to that of the canid" Giles says, speeding up, his voice trembling."but is more specialised for consuming coarse food and crushing bones.

"I didn't mean that." I say.

"I know what you meant. I know what you think of me. Why you try to run."

"Hyenas in popular culture are viewed as frightening and worthy of contempt. Hyenas are thought to influence people's spirit, and those possessed can be terrifyingly cruel and strong."

He is looming over me, his breath sour and his body stinking. His beady eyes glaring at me from the shadows. Just then, the lights fizzle out.

"Well." He says. "Someone forgot to pay the bills again." His huge hand seizes me by the back of my hair. "Ain't that just swell."

"Immortals don't pay bills. William is coming to make me his queen." I spit back at him, trying to inflict a little hurt before he does the same.

"Well, won't that be a fun little party? What is this? The dark scoobies? Willow the dyke werewolf. Anya the demon girl. Lexi the slut vampire. Buffy the 'too-good-for-us' ghost?" I guess you don't need a Zeppo in there, do you?" His grip tightens, forcing me to stand on tip toes.

"Please, you're hurting you."

His laugh is bitter and stinks of booze and mascot.

"Hurting you? Hurting you?! You left me. You left me, like they all did. But you stole my heart, Lexi, and my body, and my girl. And you dare say I am hurting you? You have no idea what pain is."

"Stop. I didn't. You are me…"

"...these dog-like hyenas were nimble-bodied, wolfish animals… but they became extinct…"

Xander's face contorts as the blade in my hand slides in, and I feel every inch parting the meat. My own stomach turns and I step away, afraid of what I have done.

Xander sways looking down at the handle protruding from his belly. Not in shock, but a mere curiosity. He snorts a laugh.

"I… I'm sorry." I say.

"Buffy's the liar." Xander says, "you're the honest one, remember?"

I am backing away, and now my back to Gile's cage. I watch Xander pull out the bloodied blade, without so much as a wince.

"Run." He says, brandishing the knife at me.

I try to, but my shirt is pinned. Giles has seized me by the collar. He shakes his head, his eyes sad and fearful.

"Run!" Xander bellows, a great gout of blood drops from his wound as he does. I scream at this and try to pull away. Not just from Xander but the warping darkness behind him… a hole that is forming, dragging at the kitchen, swallowing the furniture down and down.

I am watching this all on the big cinema screen, of course, my feet wedged over the red velvet seat in front of me so that my bucket of popcorn can rest on my lap.

"I've seen this film before." Faith says from the seat next to me. Her legs are leather clad and stretched out next to mine, she buries her hand in my bucket and pulls out a fist full of popcorn. "We both have."

"Yeah, but, do you think she will get away?" I say, indicating the woman on the screen. It's Buffy, now, not me. And Xander is Angel. Or Angelus, I guess. Acathala is yawning the destruction of the world behind her and their swords flash in the unholy light.

"Slayer's always get away, one way or another. And there is always another waiting in the wings."

"But she needs to live. She has to… we both need her."

"You're out of popcorn." Faith says and sighs, she stands. I see blood soaking through her Dingoes Ate My Baby shirt. Bullet holes. One. Two. Three. "I should get more."

"You won't come back."

"It starts like this." Faith said, pointing at the screen. On it Buffy is laying in a hospital bed among a mass of clear plastic pipes, her face covered with a foggy breathing mask. The heart monitor is beating out a weak rythm. "I told you we seen this film before."

"I don't want to be like you." I say. I hear the beep of the machine getting louder and louder, until it is filling my skull.

"It's all about choices. Unfortunately." Faith says. She stands up and glides out into the darkness. There is a high pitched alarm as the heart monitor detects a flatline. I need to go save Buffy. I have to…

As I stand to leave, the row is blocked by Spike, my blood still on his lips. I hear a rustle and see the entire audience has turned to stare at me. And every face has piercing yellow eyes and a wicked fanged smile.