Title: Shelbyville
Author: Loraineee
Email: jennyb - at - kpunet.net
Setting: Immediately Post- Chosen
Characters: Xander, Willow
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money off of this.
The first night after Sunnydale, Xander got the only single room at the rent-a-box motel in Shelbyville. If Xander had to guess, he'd say that they felt sorry for him. He'd been more frantic than anything when they made their way out of the school and after Andrew told him what had happened, he stuffed it into some dark pocket in his mind, somewhere underneath failed weddings and childhood clown trauma. He had to be there for his friends. He had a role. He had a place. And that didn't include freaking out over the loss of his almost wife or throwing himself over the edge of the canyon that held his childhood.
He made his jokes and lent his shoulder, working on autopilot. A quip here, a hug there and no one could be the wiser, right? Nope. The single bed, in the room he didn't have to share, showed just how not all right everybody thought he was. He'd lingered in Willow's room as long as he could, ignoring the pointed yawns and furtive glances at Kennedy while they talked about where to shop the next day. Willow finally shooed him out and pushed his dusty plaid shirt into his arms as she closed the door.
No offense, Xander, but I want to spend a little time with my gir-- She stopped sharply and avoided Xander's eyes as she loosened her grip and patted his arm. Sorry. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? But Vi will be back from the hospital soon. She kissed his cheek quickly and backed inside the room. Get some sleep, all right?
He stood in front of the door, staring blankly at the numbers before trundling off to his lonely room. He almost stopped at Buffy's door but paused mid-knock when he heard the quiet giggles on the other side of the door. Sister time. He got that. He'd never had a sibling but back in the day when he and Jesse were buds, they'd spend hours after Xander's latest disappointment trading jokes and shooting the breeze. He was like a brother. A brother who died just when Xander needed him the most, leaving him alone to face the dangers of slaying and high school and girls and the million other things that Jesse wouldn't ever have or do.
And just like that he was gone, and not just on vacation like Xander told himself the rest of sophomore year. Jesse was dead and he was gone. She was gone. Anya was--
He hurried down the hall to his room, jamming the card in and out so fast it didn't read and swearing when the lock wouldn't budge. Breathing deep, he steadied his hand and waited for the green. The lock clicked and he flung the door open, alone at last. Alone.
Stripping down to boxers, he crawled under the covers, discovering various scrapes and aches that a day's worth of adrenaline had kept hidden. The dark in the room made it hard to breathe and Xander flipped on the bedside lamp before he clamped shut his eyes. Eye. Whatever. It was gone too.
He twisted on the bed, curling and unfurling, unable to settle into that one sweet spot that would let him sleep. He gave up and opened his eyes, turning onto his right side to stare at the side of the night table. This wasn't going to work. One night spent spooning after an impromptu D&D game, and he was back where he was last summer after the non-wedding and Willow's turn to the dark side. Reaching out for someone who wasn't there, who would never be there, and settling for a lumpy hotel pillow.
Clinging to his pillow, he allowed his carefully practiced smile to fall and a few tears to escape. Tonight, he could mourn. Tonight, he had the luxury of tears. But tomorrow, he was needed. He had a purpose.