Xander slowly opened his eyes, and sat up. His eyes flickered over to Willow, who likewise slowly lifted her eyelids, and peered at him dimly.
"Xander?" She weakly called.
He nodded, and shifted his body closer to her. His hand reached out, and touched her cheek briefly.
"I'm right here."
Wracking sobs shook her, and she blubbered, "I'm sorry."
He nodded, "Me, too."
Willow then noticed Anya lying prone nearby, red having blossomed upon her chest like a strange flower.
"Xander," She said.
Xander followed Willow's gaze, and then hurriedly crawled over to Anya's side.
"Anya? Ahn?" He called to her softly, fear fluttering within, and turning his insides. "Anya?" Upon getting no response, his arms scooped her still body up to him. He shook her little, urging her to wake up. "Anya! ANYA!" Her warm body was already beginning to cool, and blood had stopped seeping from the bullet hole over her heart. His face, pale from shock and pain, paled further as his mind took in the absence of warm breath emerging from her mouth and nose, her heart, now stopped forever.
"Oh no, no, please, no." He pulled her close to him, screaming and crying. "ANYA!!!!" His mournful howl reverberated throughout the room, and echoed into the night. His cry dissolved into quiet sobbing, his tears mixing with her drying blood. Willow had slowly crawled toward him, despite the pain flaring in her side, and wrapped her arms around him from behind as he continued crying. The trio remained there, quiet all but for the heart-wrenching weeping, and mournful whimpering at the cruelness of fate.
The funeral was a small affair since the deceased didn't have any relatives. Just a silent group of friends stood vigil over the service. The priest finished saying prayers, and the coffin was slowly interred into the grave. Buffy, Dawn, and Giles briefly uttered grievances to Xander, and then backed away. They then walked away to give him a moment alone. His eyes were dry during the service, not able to shed a tear if he tried. Part of him died along with her, died the moment his finger pulled the trigger. The police declared it self-defense, but he knew the truth. No matter that she tried to kill him, just as she had killed another like him seven decades or so ago. Gregory and Catherine had finally gotten revenge, but at what price? His love, and his last shred of innocence were now gone forever, and all by his hand. He clutched the rose, not caring as the thorns pricked his fingers and hand. He stepped forward, leaned toward the grave, and threw the flower in. The diggers were already beginning to bury the coffin as the flower landed on top of the smooth wooden surface. Bits of dirt fell on the blood-slicked stem, and stuck there.
"Forgive me," He quietly prayed, and then walked away. Willow, who stood nearby, watched him. She then stepped forward, blocking his path as he departed.
She hesitantly placed her hand upon his shoulder, "Xander? I'm sorry for everything."
His eyes looked back into her gaze, and she was surprised at the levels of sadness and loss there, as though part of him was missing. She had never seen such an expression upon his face before, and she wanted to erase it somehow. His eyes then narrowed briefly, a bubbling of anger appearing within the brown orbs. But then it faded just as quickly, and he only sighed.
"Yeah, me too." He quietly replied. He glanced back at the grave, and then said, "You remember when we met?"
She nodded, and smiled their secret smile that she only smiled at Xander with. "I remember seeing this funny little boy with sand in his hair. And then he looked over at me, and smiled, and waved."
He smiled slightly, "I remember seeing this redheaded girl with pigtails waving back. And then going over to her, and giving her a hug." He glanced away, "God, things were simple then. When it did get so complicated?"
She replied, "I don't know. That's just how life is, I guess."
"Yeah," He then looked back at her, and asked, "How's your side?"
"It's ok. The doctors said it passed cleanly through, so it should heal fine. How's your head?"
He rubbed the back of his head briefly, "Still on my shoulders, so that's good. Just another concussion to add to the collection." In a more serious tone, he added, "Still hurts though."
Willow gazed back at him. She knew he wasn't talking about his physical injuries. "I know," she quietly replied. She walked toward him, and grabbed his hand.
His eyes glanced down to observe their linked hands, and gave her hand a tentative squeeze. He then closed the distance between them, and hugged her tightly.
She let him rest his head on her shoulder, and she stroked his dark brown hair gently. She continued holding him, even as tears anew fell from his eyes. It wasn't just because of Anya; he was crying for her, for both of them, for Gregory, Catherine, who cruelly ripped apart, for Hannah, who was cast aside, for everyone.
After what seemed like hours, he backed away from her, and noticed that she was crying a little as well. He smiled reassuringly back at her, and cupped his hand under her chin.
"So what happens now?" He said, "We finally figured it out, but…"
"…We both need time to heal." She finished, "In more ways than one. But soon." She peered back at him hopefully.
"Soon," He nodded. He leaned forward, and brushed her forehead with a lingering kiss. He tilted his head back up, and added, "After all, everybody always need time."
~The End~
"Xander?" She weakly called.
He nodded, and shifted his body closer to her. His hand reached out, and touched her cheek briefly.
"I'm right here."
Wracking sobs shook her, and she blubbered, "I'm sorry."
He nodded, "Me, too."
Willow then noticed Anya lying prone nearby, red having blossomed upon her chest like a strange flower.
"Xander," She said.
Xander followed Willow's gaze, and then hurriedly crawled over to Anya's side.
"Anya? Ahn?" He called to her softly, fear fluttering within, and turning his insides. "Anya?" Upon getting no response, his arms scooped her still body up to him. He shook her little, urging her to wake up. "Anya! ANYA!" Her warm body was already beginning to cool, and blood had stopped seeping from the bullet hole over her heart. His face, pale from shock and pain, paled further as his mind took in the absence of warm breath emerging from her mouth and nose, her heart, now stopped forever.
"Oh no, no, please, no." He pulled her close to him, screaming and crying. "ANYA!!!!" His mournful howl reverberated throughout the room, and echoed into the night. His cry dissolved into quiet sobbing, his tears mixing with her drying blood. Willow had slowly crawled toward him, despite the pain flaring in her side, and wrapped her arms around him from behind as he continued crying. The trio remained there, quiet all but for the heart-wrenching weeping, and mournful whimpering at the cruelness of fate.
The funeral was a small affair since the deceased didn't have any relatives. Just a silent group of friends stood vigil over the service. The priest finished saying prayers, and the coffin was slowly interred into the grave. Buffy, Dawn, and Giles briefly uttered grievances to Xander, and then backed away. They then walked away to give him a moment alone. His eyes were dry during the service, not able to shed a tear if he tried. Part of him died along with her, died the moment his finger pulled the trigger. The police declared it self-defense, but he knew the truth. No matter that she tried to kill him, just as she had killed another like him seven decades or so ago. Gregory and Catherine had finally gotten revenge, but at what price? His love, and his last shred of innocence were now gone forever, and all by his hand. He clutched the rose, not caring as the thorns pricked his fingers and hand. He stepped forward, leaned toward the grave, and threw the flower in. The diggers were already beginning to bury the coffin as the flower landed on top of the smooth wooden surface. Bits of dirt fell on the blood-slicked stem, and stuck there.
"Forgive me," He quietly prayed, and then walked away. Willow, who stood nearby, watched him. She then stepped forward, blocking his path as he departed.
She hesitantly placed her hand upon his shoulder, "Xander? I'm sorry for everything."
His eyes looked back into her gaze, and she was surprised at the levels of sadness and loss there, as though part of him was missing. She had never seen such an expression upon his face before, and she wanted to erase it somehow. His eyes then narrowed briefly, a bubbling of anger appearing within the brown orbs. But then it faded just as quickly, and he only sighed.
"Yeah, me too." He quietly replied. He glanced back at the grave, and then said, "You remember when we met?"
She nodded, and smiled their secret smile that she only smiled at Xander with. "I remember seeing this funny little boy with sand in his hair. And then he looked over at me, and smiled, and waved."
He smiled slightly, "I remember seeing this redheaded girl with pigtails waving back. And then going over to her, and giving her a hug." He glanced away, "God, things were simple then. When it did get so complicated?"
She replied, "I don't know. That's just how life is, I guess."
"Yeah," He then looked back at her, and asked, "How's your side?"
"It's ok. The doctors said it passed cleanly through, so it should heal fine. How's your head?"
He rubbed the back of his head briefly, "Still on my shoulders, so that's good. Just another concussion to add to the collection." In a more serious tone, he added, "Still hurts though."
Willow gazed back at him. She knew he wasn't talking about his physical injuries. "I know," she quietly replied. She walked toward him, and grabbed his hand.
His eyes glanced down to observe their linked hands, and gave her hand a tentative squeeze. He then closed the distance between them, and hugged her tightly.
She let him rest his head on her shoulder, and she stroked his dark brown hair gently. She continued holding him, even as tears anew fell from his eyes. It wasn't just because of Anya; he was crying for her, for both of them, for Gregory, Catherine, who cruelly ripped apart, for Hannah, who was cast aside, for everyone.
After what seemed like hours, he backed away from her, and noticed that she was crying a little as well. He smiled reassuringly back at her, and cupped his hand under her chin.
"So what happens now?" He said, "We finally figured it out, but…"
"…We both need time to heal." She finished, "In more ways than one. But soon." She peered back at him hopefully.
"Soon," He nodded. He leaned forward, and brushed her forehead with a lingering kiss. He tilted his head back up, and added, "After all, everybody always need time."
~The End~