There are many questions to ponder as Xander surveys his empty apartment. Like, how come men's razors can be black, grey, blue, green or white when women's razors only ever come in pink? Or why do girls complain so much about messy kitchens, then leave the bathroom looking like an explosion in a drugstore? And why has he allowed his one last vestige of peace to be invaded by potentials?
They've all been returned to Buffy's now for training and research and motivational speeches, and Xander had hoped to use his free Saturday morning to de-stress, but from the looks of things he might not get a chance. He adds, 'how can three tiny little girls make so much mess?' to his list of questions as he heads into the bathroom with a roll of garbage sacks.
Potentials aren't the only thing occupying his mind. He's been thinking a lot recently about Jonathan, which is bizarre because he's never really thought about Jonathan. If someone asked him to name all the people he went to school with, he could probably reel off most of the list, and it would most likely end with, "oh yeah, and Jonathan was there too". Nobody ever really thought about Jonathan.
And now he's gone.
There were so many memorial services for kids he knew in school that he quickly lost count of them, but each time they were attended by tens, if not hundreds of other students and friends and family. There were always people to remember the dead. Xander wants to know who remembers Jonathan.
They knew who he was, of course, since he had a habit of popping up in their lives from time to time, but he guesses they didn't actually know him. Evidently Warren did, but since he didn't even go to their school Xander has no idea how they struck up an acquaintance. Not that it matters anymore, because Warren is gone too.
So now there's just Andrew. Xander knows all too well what it's like to deal with the death of someone he knew: remembers just how heavy it makes you feel, and that's just when he's one of dozens of mourners. Now Jonathan's dead, Andrew has to bear all that weight by himself.
They never mourned for Jonathan. By the time they knew he was dead, they were too busy dealing with the First. And Andrew, of course. Andrew is doing the mourning for everyone.
It's that sense of nothingness again. People mourn so that somehow, even though a person may be gone, something about them carries on. Xander can't bear the thought of nothingness. It terrifies him. And now he realises how close Jonathan is to being nothing, and how hard Andrew must be working to stop that from happening. Of course, some of that pain comes from being the one who sent Jonathan on his way to the next world in the first place, but in Xander's mind that only makes it even more terrible. How desperate must Andrew have been for the life the First promised him if he was able to kill his last friend to get it?
For a while Xander tries to focus on cleaning up the breakfast disaster in his kitchen, because thinking about Jonathan makes something inside him ache. He tries to find peace in the meticulous washing of cereal dishes and empty glasses, but it's not the greatest distraction.
Because thinking about Jonathan leads to thinking about Andrew. He's been quieter lately. Closed off. Doesn't argue anymore. Sometimes Xander sees that familiar look of petulant indignation cross his face whenever Buffy tells him to do something, or when one of the girls yells at him for getting in the way, but then if he watches closely, he'll see the look melt as Andrew draws a deep breath, and a second later there's just a blank, distant stare as he silently goes about whatever task he's been appointed. The hunted eyes have more or less disappeared, only now Xander can read on his face a look that says, 'I see you, I see the gun, I see no way out. Just do it.' And that scares him even more.
It's almost as though he's readying himself for becoming nothing. Practising. Xander doesn't know how he can stand it.
He's also entirely certain he doesn't want it to happen. He has no say in who will make it through this, if any of them even do. But he simply cannot take the idea that someone he knows could just become nothing. No matter who it is. He might not have known Jonathan, and it's already tearing him up that he's allowed one guy to almost disappear, but he's not going to let Andrew go too.
He can't give Andrew his redemption. It's not up to him. Then again, it's not up to Buffy either, or Giles, or anyone else who can't see past what Andrew did when he was being goaded by the First. What he can do is make sure Andrew doesn't disappear. Xander decides that his own personal mission in the time they have left is to be certain that Andrew is recognised, that he doesn't just fall into nothing. Somehow, having his own individual cause makes the whole thing that bit easier to live with.
*****
They've all been returned to Buffy's now for training and research and motivational speeches, and Xander had hoped to use his free Saturday morning to de-stress, but from the looks of things he might not get a chance. He adds, 'how can three tiny little girls make so much mess?' to his list of questions as he heads into the bathroom with a roll of garbage sacks.
Potentials aren't the only thing occupying his mind. He's been thinking a lot recently about Jonathan, which is bizarre because he's never really thought about Jonathan. If someone asked him to name all the people he went to school with, he could probably reel off most of the list, and it would most likely end with, "oh yeah, and Jonathan was there too". Nobody ever really thought about Jonathan.
And now he's gone.
There were so many memorial services for kids he knew in school that he quickly lost count of them, but each time they were attended by tens, if not hundreds of other students and friends and family. There were always people to remember the dead. Xander wants to know who remembers Jonathan.
They knew who he was, of course, since he had a habit of popping up in their lives from time to time, but he guesses they didn't actually know him. Evidently Warren did, but since he didn't even go to their school Xander has no idea how they struck up an acquaintance. Not that it matters anymore, because Warren is gone too.
So now there's just Andrew. Xander knows all too well what it's like to deal with the death of someone he knew: remembers just how heavy it makes you feel, and that's just when he's one of dozens of mourners. Now Jonathan's dead, Andrew has to bear all that weight by himself.
They never mourned for Jonathan. By the time they knew he was dead, they were too busy dealing with the First. And Andrew, of course. Andrew is doing the mourning for everyone.
It's that sense of nothingness again. People mourn so that somehow, even though a person may be gone, something about them carries on. Xander can't bear the thought of nothingness. It terrifies him. And now he realises how close Jonathan is to being nothing, and how hard Andrew must be working to stop that from happening. Of course, some of that pain comes from being the one who sent Jonathan on his way to the next world in the first place, but in Xander's mind that only makes it even more terrible. How desperate must Andrew have been for the life the First promised him if he was able to kill his last friend to get it?
For a while Xander tries to focus on cleaning up the breakfast disaster in his kitchen, because thinking about Jonathan makes something inside him ache. He tries to find peace in the meticulous washing of cereal dishes and empty glasses, but it's not the greatest distraction.
Because thinking about Jonathan leads to thinking about Andrew. He's been quieter lately. Closed off. Doesn't argue anymore. Sometimes Xander sees that familiar look of petulant indignation cross his face whenever Buffy tells him to do something, or when one of the girls yells at him for getting in the way, but then if he watches closely, he'll see the look melt as Andrew draws a deep breath, and a second later there's just a blank, distant stare as he silently goes about whatever task he's been appointed. The hunted eyes have more or less disappeared, only now Xander can read on his face a look that says, 'I see you, I see the gun, I see no way out. Just do it.' And that scares him even more.
It's almost as though he's readying himself for becoming nothing. Practising. Xander doesn't know how he can stand it.
He's also entirely certain he doesn't want it to happen. He has no say in who will make it through this, if any of them even do. But he simply cannot take the idea that someone he knows could just become nothing. No matter who it is. He might not have known Jonathan, and it's already tearing him up that he's allowed one guy to almost disappear, but he's not going to let Andrew go too.
He can't give Andrew his redemption. It's not up to him. Then again, it's not up to Buffy either, or Giles, or anyone else who can't see past what Andrew did when he was being goaded by the First. What he can do is make sure Andrew doesn't disappear. Xander decides that his own personal mission in the time they have left is to be certain that Andrew is recognised, that he doesn't just fall into nothing. Somehow, having his own individual cause makes the whole thing that bit easier to live with.
*****