Author's Note: Thanks to every lovely little sugar puff who reviewed my
last chapter. keeps me going in my lazy days. Okay, that's every day but
shhhhhh. Er, Anya's the best character ever, so I've decided to continue
from her POV. Xander will be in it more too, I hope, cos I love him a lot
with his sexy body.. Sorry, don't mind me.
Disclaimer: As I said before, Joss owns it all and I would buy it from him but I don't have enough money (I had to pay my own bail for when I was in jail after that little stalking outburst. I'm sure James isn't holding it against me).
Dedication: To my special pet, Rosalind and I'm sorry I lied, I have shame issues. I'll meet up with you tonight for some work with the "spank stick".
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She didn't remember what had happened when she woke up. Well, not for about thirty seconds anyway. She opened her eyes slowly, the dim light hurting them a little, and blinked. There was a sound somewhere near, a sound she had only heard once before, just after Joyce - Xander. He was sitting in an arm chair, head in hands, sobbing quietly. That's when she remembered. Everything came flooding back to her. Straight after that, the pain was back again too. It had dulled now, become more throbbing and less searing, but that didn't make much difference in the size of it.
Where were the nurses? The immaculately clean women dressed all in white? The white sheets tucking her in so tightly that she couldn't move, and the white walls decorated sparsely with pictures meant to brighten her spirits, but usually achieved the opposite? It took a few more seconds for Anya to realize that she wasn't in hospital, she was in Xander's bed. She'd been there many times before, usually under more, um 'fun' circumstances than this.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry and she was sure she could taste blood. She looked at Xander again. She couldn't see his face, and she could barely hear him, but the way his body shook she knew he was still crying. She just wanted him to stop, to forget about what had happened, like she had while she was unconscious. Maybe she could knock him out for a while. he wouldn't mind, it was for his own good. But was she strong enough? That was the real problem. She could barely lift her arms.
"Xander?" she croaked. Her voice had come out weak and raw, not at all how she'd expected it. His head flew up and she saw the tears covering his face, glistening in the light from the bed side lamp. Relief flashed through him, and Anya was glad that she'd made him happy, if only for a second. She was surprised, he looked the same as usual, perhaps a bit of shading under his eyes, but no tell tale signs of all he'd been through. She knew she was lucky to have found such an attractive man, God knows she'd seen some ugly ones in her time. Not Xander, he was gorgeous. With his deep brown eyes that reminded her of a dog full of loyalty. So warm and melty. especially when he smiled at her, they looked like puddles of chocolate. Anya was getting a little glazed over, but she managed to come back to reality.
"Xander I -" she tried again, but he held up a hand to stop her. Why wasn't he moving? Why was he just sitting there, staring at her with his eyes so full of sadness? He should be kissing her, telling her how happy he was that she was alive. That's what seemed to happen in movies. The devoted and distressed boyfriend was standing over his dying girlfriend, holding her hand and straining for her pulse. As she regained consciousness, he would break down with tears of ecstasy and say "Oh Dr, she's come back to me, it's a miracle!" and the kindly old doctor with glasses would tell her she was very lucky, and she'd be going home in a few days, and maybe give her a lollipop. Or maybe he would be making jokes. Yes, that was the Xander she knew, always making jokes to help people feel better.
He still didn't say anything, didn't take her hand or offer her a massage (he was so good at that normally). That's when she knew that she'd have to be the strong one, be the mother, but not in an incest-y type way because she knew Xander didn't really like his mother. Anya tried to get up, to go over there and sit on his lap, to wipe the tears off his face and tell him that everything was going to be alright, even if it wasn't. She didn't normally lie, what was the point? She liked to say exactly what she thought, because people needed to know the truth. Why should she tell them they looked nice in a dress when they didn't? Did they want to be embarrassed? Especially if she wanted the dress herself, it shouldn't go to someone who looked ridiculous in it. But over the last few years, being a real girl and experiencing the world with actual feelings, she'd come to realize that sometimes people needed to hear lies.
As she pulled herself up, a fresh wave of pain washed over her, and she felt the familiar blackness creeping up. She tried not to welcome it, but in all honesty, she wanted to forget about the real world for a while. Her love for Xander won over, and she succeeded in conquering the fog. As she landed on her pillow with a squeal, the spell on Xander was broken. He jumped up and grabbed her head, softly so as not to hurt her, but with an urgency she'd never seen before. When his fingers didn't run through her hair, she knew something was wrong. Anya ran her hands over the place she expected to find soft curls, but felt, instead, a bandage. Oh no, what if all her hair had been burnt off?! She'd been growing since that time last year when she'd decided to cut it all off. a disastrous mistake, not quite right for her bone structure. She knew not to try that again. goodness, why couldn't her mind stay on one thing?
"Ahn, I have to tell you something - tell you everything. No, don't interrupt." He said as she opened her mouth to speak. "It's just that, you've been unconscious for about four hours. and already so much has happened. I didn't even know if you'd wake up again. But the thing is, if you hadn't it would have been all my fault. Just like Buffy's death was all my fault." He paused and tried to pull himself together. Anya wanted to tell him that Buffy's death wasn't his fault, how could it have been? He'd fought for her until the end, and worked up quite a sweat in the process. But she knew not to interrupt him when he was like this. "You pushed me out of the way, Ahn, you saved my life. I just remember seeing your body crushed under all that debris - it was worse than seeing Buffy's dead body. Anyway, now everything's ruined. She's dead, and we're still here. *I'm* still here when I shouldn't be. She has to protect Dawn, has to protect the world. and what about me? I'm just a carpenter. Xander, the butt monkey of the hellmouth. Dawn's lost her whole family, Giles isn't even Giles anymore and, and you." He stopped and Anya saw that it was true, everything had been ruined. Xander's heart had been ripped to shreds and there was little more than a shell left.
"Xander, I know this is awful, but it would be so much worse if you had died, even if Buffy was still alive." Well, she thought so anyway. It was terrible, especially for poor little Dawn, but Anya couldn't bare the thought of Xander dead. She would rather have been dead - in fact, she had practically died to save him. She knew that it sounded calloused and hard to speak this way, but it was what she felt. Lies were no longer any good. Things weren't going to be okay, not for a while, and Xander didn't need to be told that they were. What he needed was to heal, and maybe some sex. but later on. Right now, she would help him through it.
He didn't look angry that she'd said that, wasn't about to bite her head off with rants about how wonderful Buffy was. He knew exactly what she meant. When he'd realized that she'd sacrificed herself to save him. well he didn't have words. Buffy had done the same thing for Dawn, and now she was being called a hero. Xander knew that people would forget that Anya had done this for him, but he wouldn't. He didn't care that others were more upset about Buffy, this was his life. He smiled, probably the one time he would for a long time. Things would get better, Anya would see to that.
Disclaimer: As I said before, Joss owns it all and I would buy it from him but I don't have enough money (I had to pay my own bail for when I was in jail after that little stalking outburst. I'm sure James isn't holding it against me).
Dedication: To my special pet, Rosalind and I'm sorry I lied, I have shame issues. I'll meet up with you tonight for some work with the "spank stick".
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She didn't remember what had happened when she woke up. Well, not for about thirty seconds anyway. She opened her eyes slowly, the dim light hurting them a little, and blinked. There was a sound somewhere near, a sound she had only heard once before, just after Joyce - Xander. He was sitting in an arm chair, head in hands, sobbing quietly. That's when she remembered. Everything came flooding back to her. Straight after that, the pain was back again too. It had dulled now, become more throbbing and less searing, but that didn't make much difference in the size of it.
Where were the nurses? The immaculately clean women dressed all in white? The white sheets tucking her in so tightly that she couldn't move, and the white walls decorated sparsely with pictures meant to brighten her spirits, but usually achieved the opposite? It took a few more seconds for Anya to realize that she wasn't in hospital, she was in Xander's bed. She'd been there many times before, usually under more, um 'fun' circumstances than this.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry and she was sure she could taste blood. She looked at Xander again. She couldn't see his face, and she could barely hear him, but the way his body shook she knew he was still crying. She just wanted him to stop, to forget about what had happened, like she had while she was unconscious. Maybe she could knock him out for a while. he wouldn't mind, it was for his own good. But was she strong enough? That was the real problem. She could barely lift her arms.
"Xander?" she croaked. Her voice had come out weak and raw, not at all how she'd expected it. His head flew up and she saw the tears covering his face, glistening in the light from the bed side lamp. Relief flashed through him, and Anya was glad that she'd made him happy, if only for a second. She was surprised, he looked the same as usual, perhaps a bit of shading under his eyes, but no tell tale signs of all he'd been through. She knew she was lucky to have found such an attractive man, God knows she'd seen some ugly ones in her time. Not Xander, he was gorgeous. With his deep brown eyes that reminded her of a dog full of loyalty. So warm and melty. especially when he smiled at her, they looked like puddles of chocolate. Anya was getting a little glazed over, but she managed to come back to reality.
"Xander I -" she tried again, but he held up a hand to stop her. Why wasn't he moving? Why was he just sitting there, staring at her with his eyes so full of sadness? He should be kissing her, telling her how happy he was that she was alive. That's what seemed to happen in movies. The devoted and distressed boyfriend was standing over his dying girlfriend, holding her hand and straining for her pulse. As she regained consciousness, he would break down with tears of ecstasy and say "Oh Dr, she's come back to me, it's a miracle!" and the kindly old doctor with glasses would tell her she was very lucky, and she'd be going home in a few days, and maybe give her a lollipop. Or maybe he would be making jokes. Yes, that was the Xander she knew, always making jokes to help people feel better.
He still didn't say anything, didn't take her hand or offer her a massage (he was so good at that normally). That's when she knew that she'd have to be the strong one, be the mother, but not in an incest-y type way because she knew Xander didn't really like his mother. Anya tried to get up, to go over there and sit on his lap, to wipe the tears off his face and tell him that everything was going to be alright, even if it wasn't. She didn't normally lie, what was the point? She liked to say exactly what she thought, because people needed to know the truth. Why should she tell them they looked nice in a dress when they didn't? Did they want to be embarrassed? Especially if she wanted the dress herself, it shouldn't go to someone who looked ridiculous in it. But over the last few years, being a real girl and experiencing the world with actual feelings, she'd come to realize that sometimes people needed to hear lies.
As she pulled herself up, a fresh wave of pain washed over her, and she felt the familiar blackness creeping up. She tried not to welcome it, but in all honesty, she wanted to forget about the real world for a while. Her love for Xander won over, and she succeeded in conquering the fog. As she landed on her pillow with a squeal, the spell on Xander was broken. He jumped up and grabbed her head, softly so as not to hurt her, but with an urgency she'd never seen before. When his fingers didn't run through her hair, she knew something was wrong. Anya ran her hands over the place she expected to find soft curls, but felt, instead, a bandage. Oh no, what if all her hair had been burnt off?! She'd been growing since that time last year when she'd decided to cut it all off. a disastrous mistake, not quite right for her bone structure. She knew not to try that again. goodness, why couldn't her mind stay on one thing?
"Ahn, I have to tell you something - tell you everything. No, don't interrupt." He said as she opened her mouth to speak. "It's just that, you've been unconscious for about four hours. and already so much has happened. I didn't even know if you'd wake up again. But the thing is, if you hadn't it would have been all my fault. Just like Buffy's death was all my fault." He paused and tried to pull himself together. Anya wanted to tell him that Buffy's death wasn't his fault, how could it have been? He'd fought for her until the end, and worked up quite a sweat in the process. But she knew not to interrupt him when he was like this. "You pushed me out of the way, Ahn, you saved my life. I just remember seeing your body crushed under all that debris - it was worse than seeing Buffy's dead body. Anyway, now everything's ruined. She's dead, and we're still here. *I'm* still here when I shouldn't be. She has to protect Dawn, has to protect the world. and what about me? I'm just a carpenter. Xander, the butt monkey of the hellmouth. Dawn's lost her whole family, Giles isn't even Giles anymore and, and you." He stopped and Anya saw that it was true, everything had been ruined. Xander's heart had been ripped to shreds and there was little more than a shell left.
"Xander, I know this is awful, but it would be so much worse if you had died, even if Buffy was still alive." Well, she thought so anyway. It was terrible, especially for poor little Dawn, but Anya couldn't bare the thought of Xander dead. She would rather have been dead - in fact, she had practically died to save him. She knew that it sounded calloused and hard to speak this way, but it was what she felt. Lies were no longer any good. Things weren't going to be okay, not for a while, and Xander didn't need to be told that they were. What he needed was to heal, and maybe some sex. but later on. Right now, she would help him through it.
He didn't look angry that she'd said that, wasn't about to bite her head off with rants about how wonderful Buffy was. He knew exactly what she meant. When he'd realized that she'd sacrificed herself to save him. well he didn't have words. Buffy had done the same thing for Dawn, and now she was being called a hero. Xander knew that people would forget that Anya had done this for him, but he wouldn't. He didn't care that others were more upset about Buffy, this was his life. He smiled, probably the one time he would for a long time. Things would get better, Anya would see to that.
