Part 12:
"Hey, Wills."
The rustling of the leaves were the only response that Xander received as he stood in front of his best friend's grave for the second time in three nights, the moon his only source of luminescence. His gaze was unshakably locked towards the smooth, white marble that formed her head stone. He bent down to read the inscription and was repulsed by what he found.
Willow Rosenberg
1981-2002
{Nothing.}
He was surprised that he didn't notice it's sparse nature when he visited before. {Come to think of it, I was kind of busy at the time.} No mention of her compassionate heart, her intelligence, her heroic deeds or even of the loved ones she left behind. When someone walked past her grave, they wouldn't be privileged with the knowledge of her contribution to the betterment of the world. It angered the young man that her memory was reduced to nothing more than a name and a date, just another meaningless statistic.
{Then again, they're last memories of her weren't exactly Kodak moments. If they only knew what I know. Now they never will.} Xander laughed bitterly at the thought as a warm tear slid down his cheek. He caressed the carved letterings gently, noting how hard and cold the marble felt on his fingers. { Like my heart.}
"I can't take it anymore, Wills." He began as he stood back up, pacing back and forth. "There's nothing left for me here, anymore. Not with the living or the undead." He stopped pacing and came face to face with her headstone once more. "So I'm letting go." He took a deep breath before continuing sardonically. "Looks like your sacrifice was in vein after all."
He retrieved his loyal sidearm from under his leather duster. {How ironic that the one thing that has kept me alive for so long will be the same thing that finishes me off.} "I heard hell's kind of cold this time of year. And I don't care." He let out a disturbing laugh, similar to the sounds he emitted when he was possessed by the Hyena spirit. "Hope I didn't forget to pack an extra sweater." He stopped giggling abruptly and raised the gun. "I might be in hell, but at least we'll be together." With that, he pointed the barrel towards the side of his head, taking a few minutes to revel in the contact of cold hard steel against warm, soft flesh.
"I'm coming, Willow."
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"Don't worry Buffy, how hard could it be to find a gun toting reincarnation of an all powerful hell knight in such a small town?" the Slayer mocked herself in an exaggerated Amy voice. {Ooh look, it's a needle. . . why don't I throw it in that haystack over there? Jackass.} Buffy was now cursing the witch for deciding that herself and Spike be on weapon detail instead of assisting in the search for Xander. But she knew Amy's reasoning. {She knows that I'm the only who has a chance at persuading him to help us. Amy never was close to him and Spike. . . let's not even go there. Though after the way I treated Xander earlier, I might have to be prepared to do some serious begging with just a pinch of grovelage by the side.}
She checked her wrist watch for what felt like the millionth time. {Great. I've got another 25 minutes to find him, convince him to help us, and meet up with Aims and Spike at the old high school. Talk about cutting it close.} "Where the hell are you Xander?" She muttered to herself as she continued trudging through the maze of tombstones in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. That specific cemetery held a special place in her heart, though for all the wrong reasons.{Ms. Calendar, mom, Anya, Wil. . .} all the people that she had loved and lost were resting there. When the first of them had fallen, the Scooby gang had decided to bury their fallen comrades together, in a show of solidarity and respect. Buffy silently hoped that she would not have to bury anymore for some time to come. {We've lost so many already.}
Suddenly, Buffy's sensitive ears picked up a familiar voice coming from the vicinity of her loved ones' graves. {Damn it! How could I have been so stupid? I should have known he would head here.}She broke off in a run in the direction of one Xander Harris's voice. She was a few meters away from the young knight {He hasn't noticed me yet. Something must be distracting him. And what's up with his body language? Something's wrong here.} when she saw him point the gun he had been holding towards his head.
The slayer audibly gasped, but remained ignored by Xander. {Shit. Think brain, think? What am I going to do? I can't loose another one. I can't loose him.}Buffy considered getting angry. If she was fast enough, she could probably kick the gun out of his hand before he managed to pull the trigger. Then she would proceed to lay the verbal smack down on him for even considering such a cowardly act like suicide.
{No. For the past six years, I've let my anger control me. My tendency to let my emotions cloud my judgment caused the whole Angel thing to blow up in my face, Riley to leave and that whole mess with Spike to ever happen. Well, no more. Now it's time for Buffy Summers to start using her common sense. Huh, I'd never thought I'd use the word `Buffy' and `common sense' in the same sentence. Xander has always been my voice of reason, and now it's time to return the favour, for Xander's sake, as well as Dawn's.}
"Hey." She called out, the calmness in her voice surprising even herself.
Xander recognized the voice immediately. It's stoic nature, however, surprised him. He had expected Buffy to get angry, sad, disappointed {at least feel something}, but the tone in her voice was devoid of any emotion, like she was casually saying hello to a stranger on the street.
"Hey." He answered in kind without turning around to face her. {I don't know what game you're playing at, Buffy, but I'll bite.}
"So. . . what's the sitch?"
{I've got a gun to my head and she asks me what's the sitch? And the most stupid question of the year award goes to. . .} "Nothing. Just going to visit an old friend."
"Most people take the bus."
"Have you even seen the public transport system in Sunnydale? I've seen less dangerous demons. I'll take my chances with my feet, thank you very much."
"I could give you a lift." Buffy hoped Xander caught the implicit meaning in her statement.
He did.
"What do you want, Buffy?" Xander said with anger and frustration as he swung around to meet her eyes. "Can't you see that I'm kind of busy?"
{Hold it together, Buff.} "I want to tell you a story, Xand."
"Aren't we too old for fairytales, Buff?"
"No, no fairytales. If I've learned anything from living on the hellmouth, it's that fairytales don't exist. The story I want to tell you is based on actual events. Now do you want to listen or not? If you don't, I'll shut up right now."
"Good cause I don't. I'll catch the movie adaptation when it comes out." With that he undid the safety on his weapon with a loud click.
"I lied." Buffy blurted out as quickly as she could. Seeing that she now had Xander's undivided attention, she continued. "So, once upon a time there was this girl. . ."
"Was she hot? I mean naked hot?" Xander bit out sarcastically.
{So I didn't have his undivided attention. Still the funnyman, even now.} "Hush, let me finish. There was this girl, her name was. . . Anne. Now Anne wasn't your average girl next door. She was the slayer. Ancient prophecy, Chosen One. . . yadda, yadda, yadda. . . you know the drill. Besides being the slayer, she was one messed up girl. I'm talking serious, messy, no-holds-barred fucked up here. And just like the slayers before her, she was expected to have the shelf life of last weeks milk. But against the odds she managed to stay alive for over six years." Buffy reconsidered her last statement before adding "Well, technically anyway."
She expected Xander to let loose with one of his trademark Xander-isms, but none came. {Geez, feed him a straight line like that, and he doesn't even notice.} "And how, do you ask," She started again, her voice tinged with annoyance. "did she manage to survive for so long? Two words: Scooby Gang. Created specifically to keep the slayer alive, keep her sane and keep her from going bad. One person stood out in this role. Though many people in the slayer's life came and went, this man never left her side. Let's call him Lavelle." If the atmosphere wasn't so tense between the two, Buffy would have laughed seeing Xander's grimace on hearing his despised middle name.
"Now, Lavelle was dubbed Anne's heart, but in truth, he was so much more. He was her voice of reason, always making sure that she had both feet planted firmly on the ground, telling her off when she made bad decisions. He save her life more times than she will ever know. He would do anything for her, to make her life that much more bearable. Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness."
"I know the story Buffy, so what?" Xander finally cut in.
"So what? So what?" Buffy felt anger and sadness enveloping her. {Does he think that lowly of himself?} "That's my point Xander! Your life, your problems, are not `So What' metrial! You shut down, keep them bottled up. You don't come to me. . . don't come to anyone when you're hurting!"
Xander sighed. "You're the slayer, why should you be burdened with my problems? You have so much more to worry about than the butt monkey's life issues."
"Damnit Xander," Buffy was shouting now. "You of all people should know that I'm not just the slayer! I'm also Buffy Summers, a woman, a sister, a friend. . . a friend to Xander Harris! I know that I don't show it enough, but I care about you, I love you! You could have come to me. You didn't need to run off with the cover girl for `Psycho Demon Bitch Whore Monthly'! Vampires won't cure your loneliness, Xand. Believe me, I know what it feels like, I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt."
"Don't call her that!" Xander replied, in what was possibly a louder voice than Buffy's. "She might have been a vampire, but she was there for me. She loved me. It might have not been healthy, but it was love!" The slayer was speechless. {I didn't know his feelings for Drusilla ran so deep. Does he love her back?} Buffy didn't want to explore that thought.
And she wasn't given the chance to. "And another thing," Xander continued. " Don't you dare tell me you know how I feel. You have no idea, no. . . no right!" Tears were now streaking down his face. "You don't know how it feels like to have the only person who ever loved you as much as you loved her die right in front of you while professing her vows to stay true to you, and only you. To have to take the life of the only true friend you've ever known. To feel so fucking alone that you'd do just about anything to end your miserable existence!"
"You're. . . you're right." Buffy answered timidly, without a hint of her usual temper.
{Holy spit take, Batman!} "What?" Xander asked in bewilderment, this was the last thing he expected from the slayer.
"I said you're absolutely right." Buffy's answered shakily. "I don't know how you feel. Just like you didn't know how it felt for me to be pulled out of heaven."
"Buffy, I. . ."
"Please, let me finish." The sound of her voice alone spoke of the torrent of emotions swirling in her head. "When I was taken away from heaven, it felt like someone had torn off my hand and was digging my heart out with it. I felt angry, sad, disappointed," Buffy choked back a sob. "did I mention angry? I fought the darkness for five bloody years," {Channeling Spike there, never a good thing.} "didn't I deserve some rest? I was arrogant, I didn't think that any of you could help me because none of you knew how it felt like to have total and utter content physically ripped from your body. But I know now that friends don't have to know what it feels like. All they have to do is understand, and be a source of comfort, a shoulder to cry on. Maybe if I had realized that earlier, and opened up to you guys, none of this would have happened. Maybe Anya and Willow would still be alive. I haven't ever told you this before, Xander, but I'm sorry. Sorry for being me. Sorry for ruining
your chance to ever have a normal life."
"Buffy. . ." Xander breathed raggedly as Buffy's message finally sunk in. He was visibly shaking, his grip on the weapon pointed menacingly toward himself loosening.
Buffy decided to go through the small window of opportunity that had presented itself to her, quickly dashing forward and knocking the gun out of Xander's grasp. She didn't care if it would hurt his hand {Just call it tough love.} She then embraced him, pulling them both down to their knees.
"What the hell do you think you were doing, huh?" Buffy whispered into his ear, the salty taste of tears prevalent in her mouth. She wasn't sure whose they were. "Don't you dare die on me, Xander, you mean to much to me."
"I couldn't take it anymore Buffy. I feel so alone." Xander voice was muffled since his face was pressed into Buffy's chest. "First Anya left me, and then Willow, and now Drusilla. . . I figured that if I die, who'd miss me?"
"Don't ever think that, Xander." Buffy said gently yet firmly as she held him at arms length, so she could speak to him face to face. "No matter what happens, I'll always be there for you. We'll get through this, Xand, you and me, I promise. And Amy, and Spike if we bribe him, and Dawn. . ." Buffy suddenly remembered why she was searching for him in the first place. Once again, she glanced at her wrist watch. {Shit. We're supposed to meet Spike and Amy at the high school in ten minutes!}
"What is it, Buffy?" Xander asked, noticing the Slayer's sudden preoccupation with her time telling device.
"Look, Xander, we'll talk about this later, I promise. But right now Dawn's in danger, and we need your help. We've got to get to the old high school right now, I'll fill you in on the details along the way." Buffy had reverted to Slayer mode, the tone in her voice all business. She got up and started off in the direction of the old Sunnydale High School, with Xander in tow.
"OK. And Buffy?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Just returning a favour. Let's just call things even."
"Hey, Wills."
The rustling of the leaves were the only response that Xander received as he stood in front of his best friend's grave for the second time in three nights, the moon his only source of luminescence. His gaze was unshakably locked towards the smooth, white marble that formed her head stone. He bent down to read the inscription and was repulsed by what he found.
Willow Rosenberg
1981-2002
{Nothing.}
He was surprised that he didn't notice it's sparse nature when he visited before. {Come to think of it, I was kind of busy at the time.} No mention of her compassionate heart, her intelligence, her heroic deeds or even of the loved ones she left behind. When someone walked past her grave, they wouldn't be privileged with the knowledge of her contribution to the betterment of the world. It angered the young man that her memory was reduced to nothing more than a name and a date, just another meaningless statistic.
{Then again, they're last memories of her weren't exactly Kodak moments. If they only knew what I know. Now they never will.} Xander laughed bitterly at the thought as a warm tear slid down his cheek. He caressed the carved letterings gently, noting how hard and cold the marble felt on his fingers. { Like my heart.}
"I can't take it anymore, Wills." He began as he stood back up, pacing back and forth. "There's nothing left for me here, anymore. Not with the living or the undead." He stopped pacing and came face to face with her headstone once more. "So I'm letting go." He took a deep breath before continuing sardonically. "Looks like your sacrifice was in vein after all."
He retrieved his loyal sidearm from under his leather duster. {How ironic that the one thing that has kept me alive for so long will be the same thing that finishes me off.} "I heard hell's kind of cold this time of year. And I don't care." He let out a disturbing laugh, similar to the sounds he emitted when he was possessed by the Hyena spirit. "Hope I didn't forget to pack an extra sweater." He stopped giggling abruptly and raised the gun. "I might be in hell, but at least we'll be together." With that, he pointed the barrel towards the side of his head, taking a few minutes to revel in the contact of cold hard steel against warm, soft flesh.
"I'm coming, Willow."
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"Don't worry Buffy, how hard could it be to find a gun toting reincarnation of an all powerful hell knight in such a small town?" the Slayer mocked herself in an exaggerated Amy voice. {Ooh look, it's a needle. . . why don't I throw it in that haystack over there? Jackass.} Buffy was now cursing the witch for deciding that herself and Spike be on weapon detail instead of assisting in the search for Xander. But she knew Amy's reasoning. {She knows that I'm the only who has a chance at persuading him to help us. Amy never was close to him and Spike. . . let's not even go there. Though after the way I treated Xander earlier, I might have to be prepared to do some serious begging with just a pinch of grovelage by the side.}
She checked her wrist watch for what felt like the millionth time. {Great. I've got another 25 minutes to find him, convince him to help us, and meet up with Aims and Spike at the old high school. Talk about cutting it close.} "Where the hell are you Xander?" She muttered to herself as she continued trudging through the maze of tombstones in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. That specific cemetery held a special place in her heart, though for all the wrong reasons.{Ms. Calendar, mom, Anya, Wil. . .} all the people that she had loved and lost were resting there. When the first of them had fallen, the Scooby gang had decided to bury their fallen comrades together, in a show of solidarity and respect. Buffy silently hoped that she would not have to bury anymore for some time to come. {We've lost so many already.}
Suddenly, Buffy's sensitive ears picked up a familiar voice coming from the vicinity of her loved ones' graves. {Damn it! How could I have been so stupid? I should have known he would head here.}She broke off in a run in the direction of one Xander Harris's voice. She was a few meters away from the young knight {He hasn't noticed me yet. Something must be distracting him. And what's up with his body language? Something's wrong here.} when she saw him point the gun he had been holding towards his head.
The slayer audibly gasped, but remained ignored by Xander. {Shit. Think brain, think? What am I going to do? I can't loose another one. I can't loose him.}Buffy considered getting angry. If she was fast enough, she could probably kick the gun out of his hand before he managed to pull the trigger. Then she would proceed to lay the verbal smack down on him for even considering such a cowardly act like suicide.
{No. For the past six years, I've let my anger control me. My tendency to let my emotions cloud my judgment caused the whole Angel thing to blow up in my face, Riley to leave and that whole mess with Spike to ever happen. Well, no more. Now it's time for Buffy Summers to start using her common sense. Huh, I'd never thought I'd use the word `Buffy' and `common sense' in the same sentence. Xander has always been my voice of reason, and now it's time to return the favour, for Xander's sake, as well as Dawn's.}
"Hey." She called out, the calmness in her voice surprising even herself.
Xander recognized the voice immediately. It's stoic nature, however, surprised him. He had expected Buffy to get angry, sad, disappointed {at least feel something}, but the tone in her voice was devoid of any emotion, like she was casually saying hello to a stranger on the street.
"Hey." He answered in kind without turning around to face her. {I don't know what game you're playing at, Buffy, but I'll bite.}
"So. . . what's the sitch?"
{I've got a gun to my head and she asks me what's the sitch? And the most stupid question of the year award goes to. . .} "Nothing. Just going to visit an old friend."
"Most people take the bus."
"Have you even seen the public transport system in Sunnydale? I've seen less dangerous demons. I'll take my chances with my feet, thank you very much."
"I could give you a lift." Buffy hoped Xander caught the implicit meaning in her statement.
He did.
"What do you want, Buffy?" Xander said with anger and frustration as he swung around to meet her eyes. "Can't you see that I'm kind of busy?"
{Hold it together, Buff.} "I want to tell you a story, Xand."
"Aren't we too old for fairytales, Buff?"
"No, no fairytales. If I've learned anything from living on the hellmouth, it's that fairytales don't exist. The story I want to tell you is based on actual events. Now do you want to listen or not? If you don't, I'll shut up right now."
"Good cause I don't. I'll catch the movie adaptation when it comes out." With that he undid the safety on his weapon with a loud click.
"I lied." Buffy blurted out as quickly as she could. Seeing that she now had Xander's undivided attention, she continued. "So, once upon a time there was this girl. . ."
"Was she hot? I mean naked hot?" Xander bit out sarcastically.
{So I didn't have his undivided attention. Still the funnyman, even now.} "Hush, let me finish. There was this girl, her name was. . . Anne. Now Anne wasn't your average girl next door. She was the slayer. Ancient prophecy, Chosen One. . . yadda, yadda, yadda. . . you know the drill. Besides being the slayer, she was one messed up girl. I'm talking serious, messy, no-holds-barred fucked up here. And just like the slayers before her, she was expected to have the shelf life of last weeks milk. But against the odds she managed to stay alive for over six years." Buffy reconsidered her last statement before adding "Well, technically anyway."
She expected Xander to let loose with one of his trademark Xander-isms, but none came. {Geez, feed him a straight line like that, and he doesn't even notice.} "And how, do you ask," She started again, her voice tinged with annoyance. "did she manage to survive for so long? Two words: Scooby Gang. Created specifically to keep the slayer alive, keep her sane and keep her from going bad. One person stood out in this role. Though many people in the slayer's life came and went, this man never left her side. Let's call him Lavelle." If the atmosphere wasn't so tense between the two, Buffy would have laughed seeing Xander's grimace on hearing his despised middle name.
"Now, Lavelle was dubbed Anne's heart, but in truth, he was so much more. He was her voice of reason, always making sure that she had both feet planted firmly on the ground, telling her off when she made bad decisions. He save her life more times than she will ever know. He would do anything for her, to make her life that much more bearable. Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness."
"I know the story Buffy, so what?" Xander finally cut in.
"So what? So what?" Buffy felt anger and sadness enveloping her. {Does he think that lowly of himself?} "That's my point Xander! Your life, your problems, are not `So What' metrial! You shut down, keep them bottled up. You don't come to me. . . don't come to anyone when you're hurting!"
Xander sighed. "You're the slayer, why should you be burdened with my problems? You have so much more to worry about than the butt monkey's life issues."
"Damnit Xander," Buffy was shouting now. "You of all people should know that I'm not just the slayer! I'm also Buffy Summers, a woman, a sister, a friend. . . a friend to Xander Harris! I know that I don't show it enough, but I care about you, I love you! You could have come to me. You didn't need to run off with the cover girl for `Psycho Demon Bitch Whore Monthly'! Vampires won't cure your loneliness, Xand. Believe me, I know what it feels like, I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt."
"Don't call her that!" Xander replied, in what was possibly a louder voice than Buffy's. "She might have been a vampire, but she was there for me. She loved me. It might have not been healthy, but it was love!" The slayer was speechless. {I didn't know his feelings for Drusilla ran so deep. Does he love her back?} Buffy didn't want to explore that thought.
And she wasn't given the chance to. "And another thing," Xander continued. " Don't you dare tell me you know how I feel. You have no idea, no. . . no right!" Tears were now streaking down his face. "You don't know how it feels like to have the only person who ever loved you as much as you loved her die right in front of you while professing her vows to stay true to you, and only you. To have to take the life of the only true friend you've ever known. To feel so fucking alone that you'd do just about anything to end your miserable existence!"
"You're. . . you're right." Buffy answered timidly, without a hint of her usual temper.
{Holy spit take, Batman!} "What?" Xander asked in bewilderment, this was the last thing he expected from the slayer.
"I said you're absolutely right." Buffy's answered shakily. "I don't know how you feel. Just like you didn't know how it felt for me to be pulled out of heaven."
"Buffy, I. . ."
"Please, let me finish." The sound of her voice alone spoke of the torrent of emotions swirling in her head. "When I was taken away from heaven, it felt like someone had torn off my hand and was digging my heart out with it. I felt angry, sad, disappointed," Buffy choked back a sob. "did I mention angry? I fought the darkness for five bloody years," {Channeling Spike there, never a good thing.} "didn't I deserve some rest? I was arrogant, I didn't think that any of you could help me because none of you knew how it felt like to have total and utter content physically ripped from your body. But I know now that friends don't have to know what it feels like. All they have to do is understand, and be a source of comfort, a shoulder to cry on. Maybe if I had realized that earlier, and opened up to you guys, none of this would have happened. Maybe Anya and Willow would still be alive. I haven't ever told you this before, Xander, but I'm sorry. Sorry for being me. Sorry for ruining
your chance to ever have a normal life."
"Buffy. . ." Xander breathed raggedly as Buffy's message finally sunk in. He was visibly shaking, his grip on the weapon pointed menacingly toward himself loosening.
Buffy decided to go through the small window of opportunity that had presented itself to her, quickly dashing forward and knocking the gun out of Xander's grasp. She didn't care if it would hurt his hand {Just call it tough love.} She then embraced him, pulling them both down to their knees.
"What the hell do you think you were doing, huh?" Buffy whispered into his ear, the salty taste of tears prevalent in her mouth. She wasn't sure whose they were. "Don't you dare die on me, Xander, you mean to much to me."
"I couldn't take it anymore Buffy. I feel so alone." Xander voice was muffled since his face was pressed into Buffy's chest. "First Anya left me, and then Willow, and now Drusilla. . . I figured that if I die, who'd miss me?"
"Don't ever think that, Xander." Buffy said gently yet firmly as she held him at arms length, so she could speak to him face to face. "No matter what happens, I'll always be there for you. We'll get through this, Xand, you and me, I promise. And Amy, and Spike if we bribe him, and Dawn. . ." Buffy suddenly remembered why she was searching for him in the first place. Once again, she glanced at her wrist watch. {Shit. We're supposed to meet Spike and Amy at the high school in ten minutes!}
"What is it, Buffy?" Xander asked, noticing the Slayer's sudden preoccupation with her time telling device.
"Look, Xander, we'll talk about this later, I promise. But right now Dawn's in danger, and we need your help. We've got to get to the old high school right now, I'll fill you in on the details along the way." Buffy had reverted to Slayer mode, the tone in her voice all business. She got up and started off in the direction of the old Sunnydale High School, with Xander in tow.
"OK. And Buffy?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Just returning a favour. Let's just call things even."