Title: Seeing
Author: Juliet DeMarcus
Rating: R - just to be safe for future chapters.
Summary: Post "Selfless," Xander has given some thought to Buffy's words and has taken a long, hard look at himself...he's decided, he has to make some things right. Because sometimes you *can* help. Crossover with "Angel." X/A, B/S... X/S in a slow forming friendship kinda way. Please review... feedback is my addiction of choice!
Buffy slammed her fist into the punching bag, feeling a burst of combative energy surge through her. Ah, training... She'd so needed this. It had been some time because of how busy she'd been with her new counseling job and keeping Dawn in good standing as a student was yet another full time job, then there was trying to help Willow get back into the swing of things, not to mention slaying. Pounding into the bag repeatedly she kept going over what had happened a few days ago, letting the still present anger wash over her and give her more of the fire she needed.
Funny, how something that had been there for so long, under the surface, once spoken aloud had changed everything. It was strange how fresh the old battle wounds suddenly seemed...ones from long before her resurrection against her will, ones even before the loss of her mother and fighting for the life of her sister.
She didn't even know where it had all come from... She just knew that she had felt such a sense of frustration, sitting there arguing with Xander over what Anya had done and her fate. And slowly that frustration built into something else -- something that had lingered in the darkest confines of her heart and mind since...the day she ran Angel through with a sword, over four years ago.
It would be five years ago, soon -- and yet, the thought of it still made her stomach twist up in knots, still made it hard to breathe...
And Xander had the nerve to insinuate that *she* didn't understand, that this was all *easy* for her! *Easy!?* Did he even know her at all? Know the daily struggles she faced? The things that she had to contemplate. She had to make the hard choices all the time, but of course Xander never cared, nor apparently even noticed because until Anya the situation had never inconvenienced *him.* He was the one who had never understood.
Punch. Punch. Punch.
'And now he suddenly finds himself on the other side of the moral divider, and he *still* thinks he's right...even when he's standing on the opposite side. Well, sorry Xander, you can't always be right. You've got to pick one!' Her thoughts screamed the words to an imaginary Xander as the punching bag fell to the ground, unable to withstand the brutality of her abuse any longer.
Xander walked tentatively down the steps to Buffy's basement. He could hear the distinct sounds of pummeling coming from below and he hoped that it wasn't some demon she was contending with. He really needed to talk to her. He also hoped she wasn't down there beating the stuffings out of some dummy version of himself...because *that* would be even less of the good.
He reached the bottom of the stairs right as the punching bag went flying. Sensing him she spun around.
He had been prepared for her to be withdrawn, quiet -- much like she had often been since they had brought her back from the dead, but what he had *not* expected was the glare he now found himself receiving. She wasn't withdrawn, most definitely...she was...angry. 'Yep, that's her angry face all right...Ok, Xander...approach with caution...'
He took a couple careful steps forward, trying his best to look cheerful but the expression came out somewhere between a smile and a grimace.
"Heya Buff. Doin' some training?"
"Yeah," she answered flatly. "What's going on? Is some new evil up for me to slay?" These questions were not spoken with concern, but instead a strange, purposeful detachment, as if she were trying to get the point across at exactly how much she did *not* care for him right now.
'Point taken.'
"Um, no, not really. Anya and I talked."
Buffy nodded her head once in acknowledgment, her mouth set in a thin straight line.
"That's good."
"She asked about you... Told me, that maybe I should check in on you."
Buffy looked a little surprised at this and the hard look on her face let up a bit. She couldn't help but be touched by concern coming from Anya, considering that a few days ago she had nearly killed her.
"I think she's afraid that because of what happened, with her, and then you going to slay her and all...I think she's afraid that it would hurt our friendship. She doesn't want that...and, for the record neither do I."
He watched her, anticipating... But she didn't react, she wasn't even looking at him. Instead she was staring off to the side of the room where the punching bag had fallen.
Xander swallowed and started again.
"Buffy, about...what was said... About Angel. I - ... How long... I mean, did you know about what I told you Willow said...before? Is that why you brought it up?"
Buffy looked up at him, confusion written all over her face. 'Uh-oh, it's the bitchy confusion face,' Xander thought with dread. '...This isn't going to be go-'
"Exactly how stupid do you think I am Xander?" Despite all he had expected, he was startled by the venom dripping from her words. "It didn't take much figuring out. After it was over,...I knew Willow must've done the spell to restore Angel's soul again. I remembered your hesitation outside the mansion when you gave me her message. You always hated him, hated us being together. I knew you lied to me about it. Not much deduction required."
How come he hadn't realized this was going to be so hard? He felt like he couldn't get a breath. She had paused a moment, but then, still glaring daggers at him, eyes shimmering, she continued.
"And I came back home...and instead of telling me the truth. You all came down on me with this big intervention. You never told me... Not even after you knew what happened." The part of him who liked to avoid situations like this...and that was a pretty big part, wanted to run, at hearing the pain in her voice. But he stood his ground.
"Buffy, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I just-"
"I mean, do you even *know* what that did to me!? Do you know what an effect it could have had if you'd *told me the truth*?," she demanded, tearing up further as she took one step towards him. He flinched at the words, at the tears in her eyes, at the implications of the events his actions, or his words, may have helped bring about over four years ago.
"You never even thought about it did you? You just forgot... While Angel went to hell and me with him, in a way... I died inside, when I killed him and that part of me won't *ever* come back. And after what you'd done...I just let it go... Whereas you were all over me about leaving Sunnydale, then about trying to take care of Angel when he came back from being tormented for... You should've been apologizing to him, to me...for what you did to us." She sobbed and Xander felt tears begin to stream down his own face. "But you didn't did you? Never a word, not to him, not to me... You just forgot. Went on with your life. Living it just how you wanted. See, that's a luxury a slayer with a group of great moral lifeguards as friends doesn't get to take."
"Buffy, that's not fair," he said hoarsely.
"Isn't it?," she demanded, under her gaze, he felt like his insides were burning. "You bring up *me and Spike* all the time, judging me...well, how about you and Anya... You shacked up with her and not only did I let you have your chance to be happy, but I was her *friend!* I was one of her bridesmaids the day you stood her up. Remember?"
"That's different!," his voice raised this time, feeling a little self-righteous anger in him rising at her bringing Anya into it again. She had tried to kill Anya -- shouldn't he be the one that was upset? He hadn't tried to kill Angel had he?
"Again! With the different. *How* exactly is it different, Xander?"
His mouth opened and closed, several times...like a fish suddenly finding itself on land. And in fact, this was a new environment for him and he was finding it damn near impossible to adjust. He desperately sought an answer to Buffy's question, but he was confused. Anya and Spike were completely different. And yet,... all he could think of now was what Anya had told him the day before...about how she had committed far more wrongs in her past than Spike had...but... He couldn't think of anything to go after the 'but.' He definitely didn't like the way this was going.
Before he found his answer Buffy continued, unable to stop what was spilling out of her.
"It's not different. Only, if Anya went on a killing spree and it was up to you, even if she were about to end the world you'd just let it slide. You can't make those kind of choices. But you're always ready to look down on me if you think I make the wrong one. And when is it wrong? Well, it's wrong if it's someone *you* don't care about. "He's a vampire... 'kick his ass.' No matter if he's the love of your life. Kill him, and take my blessings,"" she mocked. "Or how about "Buffy, he's an evil disgusting thing. Who cares if he was tortured for your sister or that he was your friend when all your *other* friends didn't even know who you were anymore...who cares that he loves you. Just dust the evil soulless thing that saves us every other day, already!'"
"Buffy, how long have you been holding all this in? Buffy, you should've told me, maybe I could've tried to..."
"To what? Make it right? You can't make it right...not unless you want to go get Willow to cast a spell and take us back to the past so you can try *not* lying to me and see how things might have turned out. Not unless you want to go back and *try* to put yourself in my shoes instead of attacking me all the time, making me feel like..." She trailed off, looking stricken and put her hand over her mouth. A tortured whimper making it's way out.
"Buffy, I-I know,... I know I can't make what I've done right. I know I was wrong about how I treated you with the whole Angel thing. I get that. But he was *ending the world*. And Buffy...are you forgetting that Spike tried to rape you?," he asked the question gently and was met by another furious look. He rushed on. "All I'm trying to say is, that I'm your *friend*, Buffy...and able to make it right or not... I just wish you would let me know these things. I mean all this time and -"
"You want to *know*!?," she exploded. "Well, great, how about this? You said Spike didn't have a choice and you're right, he didn't. He didn't have a choice to become what he did. Vampires drain you and they turn you, they don't explain it to you and ask if you want the job of being a soulless killer, like they do with vengeance demons. And yes, he was evil, he did horrible things and when that changed he didn't have a choice. The chip took that away from him. But do you think *Anya* had a choice!? In the beginning do you think she gave up her vengeance demon status willingly!? No! She screwed up. While she was here to wreak vengeance on *you* for Cordelia, she screwed up."
Xander resisted the urge to wince and tried to cut in. "But she *chose* the other day, Buffy. She-"
"...And this summer while she was *choosing* to become a vengeance demon *again*, after not only you but *I*, *all of us* welcomed her with open arms, never once mentioning or even wondering about all the damage she'd done over the past, say, thousand years or so, *Spike*, who we've all hated, who we've all used, who we've all rejected went off and *chose* to get his soul!"
Xander stopped, mouth still open, poised to say a word, now forgotten. His eyes went wide, staring into Buffy's tear-stained face as she now crumbled, sitting down on the hard cement floor and burying her head in her drawn up knees she began to sob.
TBC...
Author: Juliet DeMarcus
Rating: R - just to be safe for future chapters.
Summary: Post "Selfless," Xander has given some thought to Buffy's words and has taken a long, hard look at himself...he's decided, he has to make some things right. Because sometimes you *can* help. Crossover with "Angel." X/A, B/S... X/S in a slow forming friendship kinda way. Please review... feedback is my addiction of choice!
Buffy slammed her fist into the punching bag, feeling a burst of combative energy surge through her. Ah, training... She'd so needed this. It had been some time because of how busy she'd been with her new counseling job and keeping Dawn in good standing as a student was yet another full time job, then there was trying to help Willow get back into the swing of things, not to mention slaying. Pounding into the bag repeatedly she kept going over what had happened a few days ago, letting the still present anger wash over her and give her more of the fire she needed.
Funny, how something that had been there for so long, under the surface, once spoken aloud had changed everything. It was strange how fresh the old battle wounds suddenly seemed...ones from long before her resurrection against her will, ones even before the loss of her mother and fighting for the life of her sister.
She didn't even know where it had all come from... She just knew that she had felt such a sense of frustration, sitting there arguing with Xander over what Anya had done and her fate. And slowly that frustration built into something else -- something that had lingered in the darkest confines of her heart and mind since...the day she ran Angel through with a sword, over four years ago.
It would be five years ago, soon -- and yet, the thought of it still made her stomach twist up in knots, still made it hard to breathe...
And Xander had the nerve to insinuate that *she* didn't understand, that this was all *easy* for her! *Easy!?* Did he even know her at all? Know the daily struggles she faced? The things that she had to contemplate. She had to make the hard choices all the time, but of course Xander never cared, nor apparently even noticed because until Anya the situation had never inconvenienced *him.* He was the one who had never understood.
Punch. Punch. Punch.
'And now he suddenly finds himself on the other side of the moral divider, and he *still* thinks he's right...even when he's standing on the opposite side. Well, sorry Xander, you can't always be right. You've got to pick one!' Her thoughts screamed the words to an imaginary Xander as the punching bag fell to the ground, unable to withstand the brutality of her abuse any longer.
Xander walked tentatively down the steps to Buffy's basement. He could hear the distinct sounds of pummeling coming from below and he hoped that it wasn't some demon she was contending with. He really needed to talk to her. He also hoped she wasn't down there beating the stuffings out of some dummy version of himself...because *that* would be even less of the good.
He reached the bottom of the stairs right as the punching bag went flying. Sensing him she spun around.
He had been prepared for her to be withdrawn, quiet -- much like she had often been since they had brought her back from the dead, but what he had *not* expected was the glare he now found himself receiving. She wasn't withdrawn, most definitely...she was...angry. 'Yep, that's her angry face all right...Ok, Xander...approach with caution...'
He took a couple careful steps forward, trying his best to look cheerful but the expression came out somewhere between a smile and a grimace.
"Heya Buff. Doin' some training?"
"Yeah," she answered flatly. "What's going on? Is some new evil up for me to slay?" These questions were not spoken with concern, but instead a strange, purposeful detachment, as if she were trying to get the point across at exactly how much she did *not* care for him right now.
'Point taken.'
"Um, no, not really. Anya and I talked."
Buffy nodded her head once in acknowledgment, her mouth set in a thin straight line.
"That's good."
"She asked about you... Told me, that maybe I should check in on you."
Buffy looked a little surprised at this and the hard look on her face let up a bit. She couldn't help but be touched by concern coming from Anya, considering that a few days ago she had nearly killed her.
"I think she's afraid that because of what happened, with her, and then you going to slay her and all...I think she's afraid that it would hurt our friendship. She doesn't want that...and, for the record neither do I."
He watched her, anticipating... But she didn't react, she wasn't even looking at him. Instead she was staring off to the side of the room where the punching bag had fallen.
Xander swallowed and started again.
"Buffy, about...what was said... About Angel. I - ... How long... I mean, did you know about what I told you Willow said...before? Is that why you brought it up?"
Buffy looked up at him, confusion written all over her face. 'Uh-oh, it's the bitchy confusion face,' Xander thought with dread. '...This isn't going to be go-'
"Exactly how stupid do you think I am Xander?" Despite all he had expected, he was startled by the venom dripping from her words. "It didn't take much figuring out. After it was over,...I knew Willow must've done the spell to restore Angel's soul again. I remembered your hesitation outside the mansion when you gave me her message. You always hated him, hated us being together. I knew you lied to me about it. Not much deduction required."
How come he hadn't realized this was going to be so hard? He felt like he couldn't get a breath. She had paused a moment, but then, still glaring daggers at him, eyes shimmering, she continued.
"And I came back home...and instead of telling me the truth. You all came down on me with this big intervention. You never told me... Not even after you knew what happened." The part of him who liked to avoid situations like this...and that was a pretty big part, wanted to run, at hearing the pain in her voice. But he stood his ground.
"Buffy, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I just-"
"I mean, do you even *know* what that did to me!? Do you know what an effect it could have had if you'd *told me the truth*?," she demanded, tearing up further as she took one step towards him. He flinched at the words, at the tears in her eyes, at the implications of the events his actions, or his words, may have helped bring about over four years ago.
"You never even thought about it did you? You just forgot... While Angel went to hell and me with him, in a way... I died inside, when I killed him and that part of me won't *ever* come back. And after what you'd done...I just let it go... Whereas you were all over me about leaving Sunnydale, then about trying to take care of Angel when he came back from being tormented for... You should've been apologizing to him, to me...for what you did to us." She sobbed and Xander felt tears begin to stream down his own face. "But you didn't did you? Never a word, not to him, not to me... You just forgot. Went on with your life. Living it just how you wanted. See, that's a luxury a slayer with a group of great moral lifeguards as friends doesn't get to take."
"Buffy, that's not fair," he said hoarsely.
"Isn't it?," she demanded, under her gaze, he felt like his insides were burning. "You bring up *me and Spike* all the time, judging me...well, how about you and Anya... You shacked up with her and not only did I let you have your chance to be happy, but I was her *friend!* I was one of her bridesmaids the day you stood her up. Remember?"
"That's different!," his voice raised this time, feeling a little self-righteous anger in him rising at her bringing Anya into it again. She had tried to kill Anya -- shouldn't he be the one that was upset? He hadn't tried to kill Angel had he?
"Again! With the different. *How* exactly is it different, Xander?"
His mouth opened and closed, several times...like a fish suddenly finding itself on land. And in fact, this was a new environment for him and he was finding it damn near impossible to adjust. He desperately sought an answer to Buffy's question, but he was confused. Anya and Spike were completely different. And yet,... all he could think of now was what Anya had told him the day before...about how she had committed far more wrongs in her past than Spike had...but... He couldn't think of anything to go after the 'but.' He definitely didn't like the way this was going.
Before he found his answer Buffy continued, unable to stop what was spilling out of her.
"It's not different. Only, if Anya went on a killing spree and it was up to you, even if she were about to end the world you'd just let it slide. You can't make those kind of choices. But you're always ready to look down on me if you think I make the wrong one. And when is it wrong? Well, it's wrong if it's someone *you* don't care about. "He's a vampire... 'kick his ass.' No matter if he's the love of your life. Kill him, and take my blessings,"" she mocked. "Or how about "Buffy, he's an evil disgusting thing. Who cares if he was tortured for your sister or that he was your friend when all your *other* friends didn't even know who you were anymore...who cares that he loves you. Just dust the evil soulless thing that saves us every other day, already!'"
"Buffy, how long have you been holding all this in? Buffy, you should've told me, maybe I could've tried to..."
"To what? Make it right? You can't make it right...not unless you want to go get Willow to cast a spell and take us back to the past so you can try *not* lying to me and see how things might have turned out. Not unless you want to go back and *try* to put yourself in my shoes instead of attacking me all the time, making me feel like..." She trailed off, looking stricken and put her hand over her mouth. A tortured whimper making it's way out.
"Buffy, I-I know,... I know I can't make what I've done right. I know I was wrong about how I treated you with the whole Angel thing. I get that. But he was *ending the world*. And Buffy...are you forgetting that Spike tried to rape you?," he asked the question gently and was met by another furious look. He rushed on. "All I'm trying to say is, that I'm your *friend*, Buffy...and able to make it right or not... I just wish you would let me know these things. I mean all this time and -"
"You want to *know*!?," she exploded. "Well, great, how about this? You said Spike didn't have a choice and you're right, he didn't. He didn't have a choice to become what he did. Vampires drain you and they turn you, they don't explain it to you and ask if you want the job of being a soulless killer, like they do with vengeance demons. And yes, he was evil, he did horrible things and when that changed he didn't have a choice. The chip took that away from him. But do you think *Anya* had a choice!? In the beginning do you think she gave up her vengeance demon status willingly!? No! She screwed up. While she was here to wreak vengeance on *you* for Cordelia, she screwed up."
Xander resisted the urge to wince and tried to cut in. "But she *chose* the other day, Buffy. She-"
"...And this summer while she was *choosing* to become a vengeance demon *again*, after not only you but *I*, *all of us* welcomed her with open arms, never once mentioning or even wondering about all the damage she'd done over the past, say, thousand years or so, *Spike*, who we've all hated, who we've all used, who we've all rejected went off and *chose* to get his soul!"
Xander stopped, mouth still open, poised to say a word, now forgotten. His eyes went wide, staring into Buffy's tear-stained face as she now crumbled, sitting down on the hard cement floor and burying her head in her drawn up knees she began to sob.
TBC...