"Is he okay?" I heard a voice calling from above me.
For a moment I think I'm dead and am flying to heaven's gates, and the angels are floating around me. It only lasts a second.
I was still lying on the damp ground in the woods. The blurry blobs in front of my eyes that spoke jumbled phrases, soon appeared to be all of my friends hovering over me. I didn't want to move. My head was throbbing from where big and tall decided to use me as a punching bag. I'm pretty sure I felt dried blood encrusted along my face. I felt like someone dropped a wrecking ball on my skull.
Ow, ow, ow.
"Should we pick him up?" Someone asked.
I grunted my objection to the idea and tried to get up on my own. My eyes were still closed, and my center of balance was remarkably discombobulated. I stumbled back to my knees and suddenly felt a barrage of hands trying to help me up.
"Easy now," an authoritive male voice said to me.
I think it was Giles, but my mind wasn't exactly functioning at an optimum level. So I wasn't completely sure. I kept my eyes closed as they helped me walk. Light only caused more pain and I was pretty sure I'd reached my limit.
"Xander?" A feminine voice spoke softly into my ear. "Are you all right? What happened?"
I peeked my eyes open just enough to see that it was Buffy who was asking me. I tried to say something but only ended up coughing. I felt a few loose teeth inside my mouth. That's just lovely. No one said anything else to me as we made our way back toward Oz's van. Once we reached it, they slid open the door and set me down inside. My head was still throbbing and I didn't want to answer any of their questions about my well being. I passed out again on the ride back.
***
When I woke up again I found myself lying flat on my back on Giles' couch. Everyone but Oz was there. I assumed he'd gone back to the hospital to be with Willow. Buffy was sitting next to me on the floor and Amy and Cordelia sat on the other chairs. I groaned and all of them were suddenly by my side.
"You look like hell," Cordy said playfully.
I couldn't think of a comeback. I just put my hand to my head and groaned again. Giles walked into his kitchen and came back a second later slapping an ice pack into my other hand. I looked at him graciously and pressed it against my forehead.
Ah, sweet relief.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
"Like someone hit me with a bus."
I felt someone's fingers wrap around my hand and give a reassuring squeeze. I looked down to see that they were Buffy's. When our eyes met she smiled softly.
"Are you hurt badly?" She asked. "We could take you to the..."
"No," I said more sharply than I meant to.
She looked hurt for a second, but I didn't rush to apologize. I simply wasn't in the mood for that.
"No broken bones," I said softly. "Just one hell of a headache and a few loose teeth."
"What happened to you back there Xander?" Giles asked standing over me on the other side of the couch. "We heard screaming, saw lights..."
"Lights?" I replied dumbly. "Screaming?"
"You don't remember what happened?" Amy asked me.
For a minute I really didn't. And it was the most peaceful minute I've ever had in my life. But then it all came back to me. Splitting up with Amy. Getting attacked. Using my power to fend him off. Using my power to...
Oh god.
I killed someone else.
Four pairs of eyes watched me intently and I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else. I'm kind of getting used to that feeling by now. I find it oddly comforting. Buffy's hand is still wrapped around mine and I when I talk I try my best not to look at her. A wise man would have come clean at that moment. He would have broken down and told those closest to him what was going on with him. It would make him feel better. It would put his mind at ease.
I never said I was a wise man.
I only told them what I wanted them to know.
I told them that I remembered splitting off from Amy in the woods, which I did end up apologizing to her for. That was a really stupid move on my part, disregarding her safety like that. I told them one of the giant men attacked my from behind and knocked me around then... nothing.
"Nothing?" Buffy asked.
"Nothing," I confirmed.
"What about the light," Giles probed, trying to get me to remember. "The screams?"
Brief flashes of blinding crimson light and blood curdling screams filled my mind and I doubled over grabbing my temples. Pain, pain, pain. I'm getting sick of this routine.
"I don't know," I mumbled wincing at the pulse in my temples. "It's all pretty vague, I can't..."
My eyes wanted to close again. I wanted out of here. I wanted to go back to my house.
"He was beating on me and I just blacked out. I'm sorry," I said in a voice I hoped sounded sincere.
I hate lying.
I hate having to lie.
"I want to go home," I said.
I could tell that they didn't want to let me go. They wanted me to stay so that they could patch me up. They wanted me stay there so I could rest and they could ask more questions. I was feeling better. I wasn't going to get home and suddenly die of a brain hemorrhage or anything.
"Please," I asked. "I just want to go home."
"Very well," Giles said reluctantly. "We'll talk more in the morning."
"Okay," I replied.
I was slow getting off the couch and Buffy still had to help me to stand.
"Shouldn't we call your parents or something?" Amy asked.
"They're not there," was my response.
"I'll get him home," Buffy said to them.
Giles watched me intently as she helped me to the door. I could see the gears in his mind twisting away. I knew he could tell that I was keeping something from him. But he didn't know what. So he could only look at me and wonder.
Amy and Cordy also helped me out of Giles' place and to Amy's car, which she was letting Buffy use to drive me home. They set me down in the passenger seat and gently closed the door. The whispered to each other once the door was closed. I couldn't hear what they were saying but both Amy and Cordelia had strange looks on their faces when they turned to look at me while Buffy was still talking. I don't know what she could have been telling them. But luckily I didn't really care.
Buffy finished saying whatever she had to say and Amy and Cordy tapped on the window and said good bye. She climbed into the driver seat and started the car. I felt her eyes on me but I didn't want to turn my head to look at her.
"You really don't remember anything?" She asked.
"I...," I began. "No."
And she believed me.
But I could tell she didn't really want to.
***
I really wished one of the perks of being a human/demon hybrid was miraculous self-healing.
That would have been really great don't you think?
But I don't. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to be tough. I think I used the term perk a bit too lightly before.
Buffy still had to help me walk when we got to my house. Granted, I knew I was hurt and couldn't really walk under my own power it still hurt my miniscule amount of guy mentality a little that she had to help me up the small steps of my porch to my door. Yes I know she's always been stronger than me. And yes, I know she could still kick my ass. But I guess with my newly found heritage I just thought I should have been able to handle myself.
It sucks being wrong.
She turned on the living room light, which threw me off balance slightly. I hadn't seen it on in weeks. It felt like an unwelcome guest. Still, I shrugged it off as best I could and quickly adjusted the bright fluorescent glow. I collapsed onto my blessed sofa and started to take off my shoes. I felt her there as she lingered in the small hallway near my front door, watching me get rid of my shoes with a curious gaze. I managed to keep myself from telling her to leave. I wanted to be alone. I needed to think. Or, to be more exact, I needed to not think. My brain was overloaded. And the glow of the lamp was just pushing it that extra step. I want that fucking light to be turned off.
But to my mild annoyance, she stayed there and the light was still burning. I saw her eyes gradually take in everything, from the skeletal cardboard remains of fast food boxes lying around the place to a lot of my clothes and other crap scattered here and there in no particular order. "You've been here by yourself for a while now haven't you," she said, trying to keep concern out of her voice. For a moment, I wasn't sure if it was a question or a casual observation, but then she asked, "is your dad still in Wyoming?"
"Yeah. You know it's kind of funny. The man sobers up after fifteen years of alcoholism and decides he's the outdoor type." I said, laying down into the cushions letting the soft heavenly fell of them overtake me. "He's probably running around in a loincloth by now."
"Yuck," said smiling. "Scary visual place." She walked over ands sat on the floor besides me, carefully avoiding an old box of chicken fried rice. It seemed a lot like the seating arrangement back at Giles' place. I felt her hair brush against my arm and suddenly I began to think that she made a pretty good distraction from my overzealous mind.
"I don't think I've been this calm in weeks" I said softly. And it was true. I just can't believe I said something like it out loud.
Her smile grew wider, and I felt my own mouth match it. And I took a second to enjoy the moment. It was nice. But...
"Where's your mom been?" She asked innocently, and my smile vanished.
"She's gone," I said calmly, turning on my back and moving to stare blankly at the ceiling again.
"Where?" She probed gently. "Is she in Wyoming with your dad?"
"No."
"Oh. So where..."
"Where did she go?"
She nodded, her face now serious when she moved to sit on the edge of the couch so she could look at me more clearly. "Yeah."
"She... Well she just..." I tried to think of somewhere she could have been. But no place good came to mind. I sighed and shrugged. As much as person can shrug when they're lying down. "I don't know," I finally admitted. "She didn't say."
"Well then, how long is she going to be gone?"
I shrugged once more and turned my eyes to my feet curled up underneath our old afghan blanket. "She didn't bother to share that with me," I said softly. "She took off without telling me." We sat in silence for a while. I could feel her staring at me while I kept staring at my feet in the blanket. I needed a better blanket. This one was full of holes.
"Xander?"I heard her say my name so delicately, like I've never heard anyone ever say it in my life, like someone who really wanted to know what was on my mind.
I wanted to tell her everything.
I wanted to tell her who I was.
I wanted to tell her who my father was and what he wanted me to do.
I wanted to tell her the real reason why I knew that I never had a chance with her, despite the fact that she overlooked Angel's case of vampirism.
But I settled for one small bit of truth. One that I couldn't regret sharing in the long run.
I turned my head so we faced each other. She was still sitting on the edge of the couch and was looking down at me. Her eyes were gazing at me so seriously with a quiet angst and studying the lines of my face shadowed in the dim light of the living room lamp.
"Have you ever felt so alone you feel like each and every day is a struggle just to open your eyes?" I asked her, so quietly I wasn't sure If I'd actually said it out loud or thought it out in my head. My voice didn't want to go on. I made it. "That world was not really this loving warm ball of sunshine, but a dank and empty black hole you merely coast through? And you can't do anything about it... because... there's nothing you can possibly say or do that'll ever make it better?"
Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted just slightly. I shouldn't have said anything. I gave away too much. I think she believed I was speaking in a strictly metaphorical sense, she probably thought I'm just depressed. But still, I've let her in more than I should have. I've opened up far too much. That's not what scared me.
She understood completely. I knew she did. It was written all over her face.
Something shifted greatly in those eyes of hers I'd once thought sparkled in the moonlight. I could see nearly every thought coursing through her mind, every emotion with every breath and soft contact of our hands. I've gotten through to her somehow. And I never even meant to try. I had just received what I had wanted so desperately for years, and yet all that I felt inside was another lovely round of blind panic.
"Xander?" She said even more delicately and hesitantly than before. I held my breath and my heart beat savagely in my ears. She lifted her hand and closed the short space between us, as if she wanted to touch me to make sure that I was really there, that I actually said something so profound.
She's so close, oh god, she's so close to me.
Her fingers touched my cheek as light as a feather, slowly moving up and down the skin. Her eyes still had that look in them and she moved even closer. I swallowed the lump in my throat audibly. Her lips were on mine before I could close my eyes and my mind was instantly at a dead calm. Everything was immediately forgotten in the intimate contact and I let myself relax just a little bit. She struggled to lie on the couch next to me, and after a minute or two of shifting around, she found a comfortable position. Our lips still tasted each other; her body was still flush against mine.
And for those few blissful minutes I was just me.
Not the son of a demon king. Not the soldier of deceit he wanted me to be. Not the Zeppo everyone else had thought I was.
I was just Xander.
The light didn't seem to bother me so much anymore.
For a moment I think I'm dead and am flying to heaven's gates, and the angels are floating around me. It only lasts a second.
I was still lying on the damp ground in the woods. The blurry blobs in front of my eyes that spoke jumbled phrases, soon appeared to be all of my friends hovering over me. I didn't want to move. My head was throbbing from where big and tall decided to use me as a punching bag. I'm pretty sure I felt dried blood encrusted along my face. I felt like someone dropped a wrecking ball on my skull.
Ow, ow, ow.
"Should we pick him up?" Someone asked.
I grunted my objection to the idea and tried to get up on my own. My eyes were still closed, and my center of balance was remarkably discombobulated. I stumbled back to my knees and suddenly felt a barrage of hands trying to help me up.
"Easy now," an authoritive male voice said to me.
I think it was Giles, but my mind wasn't exactly functioning at an optimum level. So I wasn't completely sure. I kept my eyes closed as they helped me walk. Light only caused more pain and I was pretty sure I'd reached my limit.
"Xander?" A feminine voice spoke softly into my ear. "Are you all right? What happened?"
I peeked my eyes open just enough to see that it was Buffy who was asking me. I tried to say something but only ended up coughing. I felt a few loose teeth inside my mouth. That's just lovely. No one said anything else to me as we made our way back toward Oz's van. Once we reached it, they slid open the door and set me down inside. My head was still throbbing and I didn't want to answer any of their questions about my well being. I passed out again on the ride back.
***
When I woke up again I found myself lying flat on my back on Giles' couch. Everyone but Oz was there. I assumed he'd gone back to the hospital to be with Willow. Buffy was sitting next to me on the floor and Amy and Cordelia sat on the other chairs. I groaned and all of them were suddenly by my side.
"You look like hell," Cordy said playfully.
I couldn't think of a comeback. I just put my hand to my head and groaned again. Giles walked into his kitchen and came back a second later slapping an ice pack into my other hand. I looked at him graciously and pressed it against my forehead.
Ah, sweet relief.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
"Like someone hit me with a bus."
I felt someone's fingers wrap around my hand and give a reassuring squeeze. I looked down to see that they were Buffy's. When our eyes met she smiled softly.
"Are you hurt badly?" She asked. "We could take you to the..."
"No," I said more sharply than I meant to.
She looked hurt for a second, but I didn't rush to apologize. I simply wasn't in the mood for that.
"No broken bones," I said softly. "Just one hell of a headache and a few loose teeth."
"What happened to you back there Xander?" Giles asked standing over me on the other side of the couch. "We heard screaming, saw lights..."
"Lights?" I replied dumbly. "Screaming?"
"You don't remember what happened?" Amy asked me.
For a minute I really didn't. And it was the most peaceful minute I've ever had in my life. But then it all came back to me. Splitting up with Amy. Getting attacked. Using my power to fend him off. Using my power to...
Oh god.
I killed someone else.
Four pairs of eyes watched me intently and I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else. I'm kind of getting used to that feeling by now. I find it oddly comforting. Buffy's hand is still wrapped around mine and I when I talk I try my best not to look at her. A wise man would have come clean at that moment. He would have broken down and told those closest to him what was going on with him. It would make him feel better. It would put his mind at ease.
I never said I was a wise man.
I only told them what I wanted them to know.
I told them that I remembered splitting off from Amy in the woods, which I did end up apologizing to her for. That was a really stupid move on my part, disregarding her safety like that. I told them one of the giant men attacked my from behind and knocked me around then... nothing.
"Nothing?" Buffy asked.
"Nothing," I confirmed.
"What about the light," Giles probed, trying to get me to remember. "The screams?"
Brief flashes of blinding crimson light and blood curdling screams filled my mind and I doubled over grabbing my temples. Pain, pain, pain. I'm getting sick of this routine.
"I don't know," I mumbled wincing at the pulse in my temples. "It's all pretty vague, I can't..."
My eyes wanted to close again. I wanted out of here. I wanted to go back to my house.
"He was beating on me and I just blacked out. I'm sorry," I said in a voice I hoped sounded sincere.
I hate lying.
I hate having to lie.
"I want to go home," I said.
I could tell that they didn't want to let me go. They wanted me to stay so that they could patch me up. They wanted me stay there so I could rest and they could ask more questions. I was feeling better. I wasn't going to get home and suddenly die of a brain hemorrhage or anything.
"Please," I asked. "I just want to go home."
"Very well," Giles said reluctantly. "We'll talk more in the morning."
"Okay," I replied.
I was slow getting off the couch and Buffy still had to help me to stand.
"Shouldn't we call your parents or something?" Amy asked.
"They're not there," was my response.
"I'll get him home," Buffy said to them.
Giles watched me intently as she helped me to the door. I could see the gears in his mind twisting away. I knew he could tell that I was keeping something from him. But he didn't know what. So he could only look at me and wonder.
Amy and Cordy also helped me out of Giles' place and to Amy's car, which she was letting Buffy use to drive me home. They set me down in the passenger seat and gently closed the door. The whispered to each other once the door was closed. I couldn't hear what they were saying but both Amy and Cordelia had strange looks on their faces when they turned to look at me while Buffy was still talking. I don't know what she could have been telling them. But luckily I didn't really care.
Buffy finished saying whatever she had to say and Amy and Cordy tapped on the window and said good bye. She climbed into the driver seat and started the car. I felt her eyes on me but I didn't want to turn my head to look at her.
"You really don't remember anything?" She asked.
"I...," I began. "No."
And she believed me.
But I could tell she didn't really want to.
***
I really wished one of the perks of being a human/demon hybrid was miraculous self-healing.
That would have been really great don't you think?
But I don't. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to be tough. I think I used the term perk a bit too lightly before.
Buffy still had to help me walk when we got to my house. Granted, I knew I was hurt and couldn't really walk under my own power it still hurt my miniscule amount of guy mentality a little that she had to help me up the small steps of my porch to my door. Yes I know she's always been stronger than me. And yes, I know she could still kick my ass. But I guess with my newly found heritage I just thought I should have been able to handle myself.
It sucks being wrong.
She turned on the living room light, which threw me off balance slightly. I hadn't seen it on in weeks. It felt like an unwelcome guest. Still, I shrugged it off as best I could and quickly adjusted the bright fluorescent glow. I collapsed onto my blessed sofa and started to take off my shoes. I felt her there as she lingered in the small hallway near my front door, watching me get rid of my shoes with a curious gaze. I managed to keep myself from telling her to leave. I wanted to be alone. I needed to think. Or, to be more exact, I needed to not think. My brain was overloaded. And the glow of the lamp was just pushing it that extra step. I want that fucking light to be turned off.
But to my mild annoyance, she stayed there and the light was still burning. I saw her eyes gradually take in everything, from the skeletal cardboard remains of fast food boxes lying around the place to a lot of my clothes and other crap scattered here and there in no particular order. "You've been here by yourself for a while now haven't you," she said, trying to keep concern out of her voice. For a moment, I wasn't sure if it was a question or a casual observation, but then she asked, "is your dad still in Wyoming?"
"Yeah. You know it's kind of funny. The man sobers up after fifteen years of alcoholism and decides he's the outdoor type." I said, laying down into the cushions letting the soft heavenly fell of them overtake me. "He's probably running around in a loincloth by now."
"Yuck," said smiling. "Scary visual place." She walked over ands sat on the floor besides me, carefully avoiding an old box of chicken fried rice. It seemed a lot like the seating arrangement back at Giles' place. I felt her hair brush against my arm and suddenly I began to think that she made a pretty good distraction from my overzealous mind.
"I don't think I've been this calm in weeks" I said softly. And it was true. I just can't believe I said something like it out loud.
Her smile grew wider, and I felt my own mouth match it. And I took a second to enjoy the moment. It was nice. But...
"Where's your mom been?" She asked innocently, and my smile vanished.
"She's gone," I said calmly, turning on my back and moving to stare blankly at the ceiling again.
"Where?" She probed gently. "Is she in Wyoming with your dad?"
"No."
"Oh. So where..."
"Where did she go?"
She nodded, her face now serious when she moved to sit on the edge of the couch so she could look at me more clearly. "Yeah."
"She... Well she just..." I tried to think of somewhere she could have been. But no place good came to mind. I sighed and shrugged. As much as person can shrug when they're lying down. "I don't know," I finally admitted. "She didn't say."
"Well then, how long is she going to be gone?"
I shrugged once more and turned my eyes to my feet curled up underneath our old afghan blanket. "She didn't bother to share that with me," I said softly. "She took off without telling me." We sat in silence for a while. I could feel her staring at me while I kept staring at my feet in the blanket. I needed a better blanket. This one was full of holes.
"Xander?"I heard her say my name so delicately, like I've never heard anyone ever say it in my life, like someone who really wanted to know what was on my mind.
I wanted to tell her everything.
I wanted to tell her who I was.
I wanted to tell her who my father was and what he wanted me to do.
I wanted to tell her the real reason why I knew that I never had a chance with her, despite the fact that she overlooked Angel's case of vampirism.
But I settled for one small bit of truth. One that I couldn't regret sharing in the long run.
I turned my head so we faced each other. She was still sitting on the edge of the couch and was looking down at me. Her eyes were gazing at me so seriously with a quiet angst and studying the lines of my face shadowed in the dim light of the living room lamp.
"Have you ever felt so alone you feel like each and every day is a struggle just to open your eyes?" I asked her, so quietly I wasn't sure If I'd actually said it out loud or thought it out in my head. My voice didn't want to go on. I made it. "That world was not really this loving warm ball of sunshine, but a dank and empty black hole you merely coast through? And you can't do anything about it... because... there's nothing you can possibly say or do that'll ever make it better?"
Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted just slightly. I shouldn't have said anything. I gave away too much. I think she believed I was speaking in a strictly metaphorical sense, she probably thought I'm just depressed. But still, I've let her in more than I should have. I've opened up far too much. That's not what scared me.
She understood completely. I knew she did. It was written all over her face.
Something shifted greatly in those eyes of hers I'd once thought sparkled in the moonlight. I could see nearly every thought coursing through her mind, every emotion with every breath and soft contact of our hands. I've gotten through to her somehow. And I never even meant to try. I had just received what I had wanted so desperately for years, and yet all that I felt inside was another lovely round of blind panic.
"Xander?" She said even more delicately and hesitantly than before. I held my breath and my heart beat savagely in my ears. She lifted her hand and closed the short space between us, as if she wanted to touch me to make sure that I was really there, that I actually said something so profound.
She's so close, oh god, she's so close to me.
Her fingers touched my cheek as light as a feather, slowly moving up and down the skin. Her eyes still had that look in them and she moved even closer. I swallowed the lump in my throat audibly. Her lips were on mine before I could close my eyes and my mind was instantly at a dead calm. Everything was immediately forgotten in the intimate contact and I let myself relax just a little bit. She struggled to lie on the couch next to me, and after a minute or two of shifting around, she found a comfortable position. Our lips still tasted each other; her body was still flush against mine.
And for those few blissful minutes I was just me.
Not the son of a demon king. Not the soldier of deceit he wanted me to be. Not the Zeppo everyone else had thought I was.
I was just Xander.
The light didn't seem to bother me so much anymore.