A few weeks later, Xander was shoved down the stairs to the basement. He was bleeding, bruised and battered.
He had returned home late from patrol, a little worse for wear, only to be greeted by both a pissed and pissed off father.
His father had found out that Spike had been staying over, so, first he beat Xander within an inch of his life, raped him on top of that, then shoved him down the stairs with a shout that the rent was due at the end of the week.
When Xander finally regained consciousness, he crawled over to the sofa-bed and slept.
When he awoke, the sofa was covered in his blood, but he didn't seem to give a damn. He sat up slowly, and just sat there for a few minutes, head in his hands, before pulling his diary from under the sofa.
However, he pulled out the wrong diary, and came up with one from his senior year.
With a sad smile of acknowledgement when he realised which Diary it was, he let it fall open and started to read.
The Zeppo. That was one insult of Cordy's that really got to me.
My own actual reference of Jimmy Olsenness was bad enough, but for my ex-girlfriend to notice, it shows how much The Scooby Gang really *doesn't* need me.
The Zeppo. Jimmy Olsen. Donut Boy.
Unneeded except for menial tasks.
Probably unwanted on top of that….
That paragraph reminded him how close he had been then to the point he was at now - only basically saving the world single-handedly brought him out of that funk.
He smiled another sad smile at the thought of Jack O'Toole being scared enough of him to disable that bomb, only to be eaten by the Oz Wolf.
"If I hadn't got him to disable that bomb, the entire Scooby Gang would have died before Buffy and Faith could have killed that demon, and the Hellmouth would have opened."
He also remembered that just *knowing* he had saved them all had been enough to him them.
It wasn't now.
Leaving the diary open at that page, he laid it out in full view on the coffee table.
Then he went to his wardrobe and pulled out all of his Slayerette Diaries, and piled them beside the table.
Finally, he reached back under the sofa and pulled out his present diary, to record his final entry.
Dad did it again. That was the last straw. The guys have been treating me like nothing for a while. Buffy and Willow are too wrapped up in the whole college thing to care about me.
Willow' s still upset about Oz, and only wants me there to listen to her moan about it, and G-man, well, he's still depressed because he's a lonely and unemployed librarian and ex-Watcher to bother with me.
The only one who was keeping me together, was, surprisingly, Spike.
As Giles and I have been alternating between having him stay with us, Spike and I have got to know one another.
Our scathing remarks have faded into more like friendly banter - of course, none of my supposed friends have noticed this.
Problem with Spike and I becoming friends though, is that now I know that there's more to him than his looks - however sexy they may be.
Now I know there's really a brain - and a smart one at that, and real substance behind that gorgeous body, I had to go and fall in love with him!!
Well, he was enough to hold me together - until today.
Dad found out that Spike had been staying over, and so decided that Spike must be my latest boyfriend (I wish), so first he decided to try to beat the gayness out of me (again), then, when he was drunk enough, he decided to join in.
As you know, he *has* done it before - on and off since I was 9 actually, but he hasn't done it to me since, well, the night I stood up to Angelus in the hospital.
You remember I told you how I got a little cocky after chasing Angelus away from the hospital, but I don't want to think about that.
But after then, when he ruptured something inside me, and had to get Uncle Rory to take me to a hospital outside of town, I didn't think he'd rape me again.
But that was it.
The last straw.
I can't hold it together anymore.
I can't cope.
Not even Spike can hold me together.
With that last decisive full stop, Xander turned to the back of the diary and tore a blank page out.
Then he went to the corner cupboard where he kept his First Aid kit and pulled out a tub of tablets (necessary evil, between his father, patrol, and working in a gay bar), then went to another cupboard and pulled out a few bottles of whisky.
Setting all of this stuff down carefully on the coffee table, he picked up his sheet of paper and a pen and started to write.
To the guys, (that means you too Spike)
I'm sorry that you had to see me like this, I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'm sorry that I had to go this way, but I just couldn't take anymore.
I mean, I know I'm The Zeppo of The Scooby Gang (Giles, if you don't understand that reference, one the others will explain), but recently, I feel completely unwanted and unneeded – more so than usual.
The only person who seems to really acknowledge may presence, and actually talks to and listens to me is Spike. (Thank You Spike).
I mean, you three are supposed to be my best friends (especially you Will), and none of you have noticed what a bastard my father really is (OK, that's partly my fault, as I was kinda hiding it from you, but I thought that at least Will would have noticed).
My father has been beating my for as long as I can remember, (no Will, he didn't stop when I hit puberty, I just didn't want you to think of me as a wimp - still unable to defend myself once I was a teenager) - it's been worse since I came back from my trip.
My dad doesn't really approve of his gay son. (Yeah, another surprise for you, I've finally accepted, and am admitting that I'm gay.) Hypocrite that he is.
Here's another fact that none of you know (not even Will and Spike).
My dad has been raping my on and off since I was nine years old. (that's what I mean about the hypocrite comment.)
Until tonight, the last time he raped my was the night I kicked Angelus out of the hospital when Buffy was sick - you three didn't even notice that I went missing for a few days because I was admitted to a hospital outside of town when my dad ruptured something inside of me.
Well, while both my mind and my life was in turmoil, you know who the only one I could confide *HALF* of this stuff to was?
The only one who seemed to care?
Spike.
Yeah. A soulless demon (no offense Spike) who has tried to kill me on more than one occasion, seemed to care about me more than my supposed best friends.
When Spike found out about my dad beating me he set off his chip pacing the basement telling me of all the ways he would kill my father.
Well, I just want to get to the point.
I don't own much, but you can all have whatever you like - except for the following things:
I want all of you to read my Slayerette Diaries (yes, I kept diaries), but I want Spike to have the last one - and be the first to read it. Otherwise all the other Diaries will belong to Will.
And Spike. I want you to have my comic book collection. And I have a surprise for you. In my secret hiding place (that I know that you know) where I keep my special additions, you will find a sheet of paper, telling you how to have the chip removed. You're welcome!
That is my last wish. Guys, let Spike have the chip removed, and Spike, don't kill them.
Also, if you kill my father, I wouldn't mind.
Well, that's about it.
I love you all, and I'll miss you all a lot, but I just couldn't cope with my life anymore.
Goofily Yours
Xander
x
When he had finished his letter, he placed it on top of his present day diary, and started to work his way through the tablets, a dozen or so at a time, washing them down with the whisky, until there was no whisky left and he faded into unconsciousness.
He had returned home late from patrol, a little worse for wear, only to be greeted by both a pissed and pissed off father.
His father had found out that Spike had been staying over, so, first he beat Xander within an inch of his life, raped him on top of that, then shoved him down the stairs with a shout that the rent was due at the end of the week.
When Xander finally regained consciousness, he crawled over to the sofa-bed and slept.
When he awoke, the sofa was covered in his blood, but he didn't seem to give a damn. He sat up slowly, and just sat there for a few minutes, head in his hands, before pulling his diary from under the sofa.
However, he pulled out the wrong diary, and came up with one from his senior year.
With a sad smile of acknowledgement when he realised which Diary it was, he let it fall open and started to read.
The Zeppo. That was one insult of Cordy's that really got to me.
My own actual reference of Jimmy Olsenness was bad enough, but for my ex-girlfriend to notice, it shows how much The Scooby Gang really *doesn't* need me.
The Zeppo. Jimmy Olsen. Donut Boy.
Unneeded except for menial tasks.
Probably unwanted on top of that….
That paragraph reminded him how close he had been then to the point he was at now - only basically saving the world single-handedly brought him out of that funk.
He smiled another sad smile at the thought of Jack O'Toole being scared enough of him to disable that bomb, only to be eaten by the Oz Wolf.
"If I hadn't got him to disable that bomb, the entire Scooby Gang would have died before Buffy and Faith could have killed that demon, and the Hellmouth would have opened."
He also remembered that just *knowing* he had saved them all had been enough to him them.
It wasn't now.
Leaving the diary open at that page, he laid it out in full view on the coffee table.
Then he went to his wardrobe and pulled out all of his Slayerette Diaries, and piled them beside the table.
Finally, he reached back under the sofa and pulled out his present diary, to record his final entry.
Dad did it again. That was the last straw. The guys have been treating me like nothing for a while. Buffy and Willow are too wrapped up in the whole college thing to care about me.
Willow' s still upset about Oz, and only wants me there to listen to her moan about it, and G-man, well, he's still depressed because he's a lonely and unemployed librarian and ex-Watcher to bother with me.
The only one who was keeping me together, was, surprisingly, Spike.
As Giles and I have been alternating between having him stay with us, Spike and I have got to know one another.
Our scathing remarks have faded into more like friendly banter - of course, none of my supposed friends have noticed this.
Problem with Spike and I becoming friends though, is that now I know that there's more to him than his looks - however sexy they may be.
Now I know there's really a brain - and a smart one at that, and real substance behind that gorgeous body, I had to go and fall in love with him!!
Well, he was enough to hold me together - until today.
Dad found out that Spike had been staying over, and so decided that Spike must be my latest boyfriend (I wish), so first he decided to try to beat the gayness out of me (again), then, when he was drunk enough, he decided to join in.
As you know, he *has* done it before - on and off since I was 9 actually, but he hasn't done it to me since, well, the night I stood up to Angelus in the hospital.
You remember I told you how I got a little cocky after chasing Angelus away from the hospital, but I don't want to think about that.
But after then, when he ruptured something inside me, and had to get Uncle Rory to take me to a hospital outside of town, I didn't think he'd rape me again.
But that was it.
The last straw.
I can't hold it together anymore.
I can't cope.
Not even Spike can hold me together.
With that last decisive full stop, Xander turned to the back of the diary and tore a blank page out.
Then he went to the corner cupboard where he kept his First Aid kit and pulled out a tub of tablets (necessary evil, between his father, patrol, and working in a gay bar), then went to another cupboard and pulled out a few bottles of whisky.
Setting all of this stuff down carefully on the coffee table, he picked up his sheet of paper and a pen and started to write.
To the guys, (that means you too Spike)
I'm sorry that you had to see me like this, I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'm sorry that I had to go this way, but I just couldn't take anymore.
I mean, I know I'm The Zeppo of The Scooby Gang (Giles, if you don't understand that reference, one the others will explain), but recently, I feel completely unwanted and unneeded – more so than usual.
The only person who seems to really acknowledge may presence, and actually talks to and listens to me is Spike. (Thank You Spike).
I mean, you three are supposed to be my best friends (especially you Will), and none of you have noticed what a bastard my father really is (OK, that's partly my fault, as I was kinda hiding it from you, but I thought that at least Will would have noticed).
My father has been beating my for as long as I can remember, (no Will, he didn't stop when I hit puberty, I just didn't want you to think of me as a wimp - still unable to defend myself once I was a teenager) - it's been worse since I came back from my trip.
My dad doesn't really approve of his gay son. (Yeah, another surprise for you, I've finally accepted, and am admitting that I'm gay.) Hypocrite that he is.
Here's another fact that none of you know (not even Will and Spike).
My dad has been raping my on and off since I was nine years old. (that's what I mean about the hypocrite comment.)
Until tonight, the last time he raped my was the night I kicked Angelus out of the hospital when Buffy was sick - you three didn't even notice that I went missing for a few days because I was admitted to a hospital outside of town when my dad ruptured something inside of me.
Well, while both my mind and my life was in turmoil, you know who the only one I could confide *HALF* of this stuff to was?
The only one who seemed to care?
Spike.
Yeah. A soulless demon (no offense Spike) who has tried to kill me on more than one occasion, seemed to care about me more than my supposed best friends.
When Spike found out about my dad beating me he set off his chip pacing the basement telling me of all the ways he would kill my father.
Well, I just want to get to the point.
I don't own much, but you can all have whatever you like - except for the following things:
I want all of you to read my Slayerette Diaries (yes, I kept diaries), but I want Spike to have the last one - and be the first to read it. Otherwise all the other Diaries will belong to Will.
And Spike. I want you to have my comic book collection. And I have a surprise for you. In my secret hiding place (that I know that you know) where I keep my special additions, you will find a sheet of paper, telling you how to have the chip removed. You're welcome!
That is my last wish. Guys, let Spike have the chip removed, and Spike, don't kill them.
Also, if you kill my father, I wouldn't mind.
Well, that's about it.
I love you all, and I'll miss you all a lot, but I just couldn't cope with my life anymore.
Goofily Yours
Xander
x
When he had finished his letter, he placed it on top of his present day diary, and started to work his way through the tablets, a dozen or so at a time, washing them down with the whisky, until there was no whisky left and he faded into unconsciousness.