Friendship -
The sequel to 'Clarity' in the "Searching For" Series
So I lied when I said it was a one piece, sue me... I don't have any money but you can have my pog collection.
This fanfic is based on Buffy the Vampire slayer created by Joss Whedon and Fox Entertainment.
By Michael Dunbar
-
Xander never realised how much he had depended on them small pathetic capsules to dull his pain, emotional or physical it didn't seem to matter. He had always reached for that small bottle just to get through one more hour of the day.
He'd escaped the clutches of the hospital not 2 days ago and was now in the confines of Buffy's room.
Mrs Summers had demanded that he stay at her house if only for the support of others through the difficult period of his rehabilitation. He was given the number for many support groups and the local shrink either of which he didn't plan to visit anytime soon.
He could get through this with the help of his friends.
Not one of them had mentioned the pills, but it was sure to come out eventually and then so would the answers.
The answers he himself had only really just discovered recently through many hours of thinking in his time in the hospital. He knew the many reasons that things turned out the way they did and for once he had no inclination to keep quiet.
He would tell them.
After all, they deserved it.
Buffy's room was bare now. All of her stuff either in the spare room or at the dorm where she lived.
They'd all moved on so much in such a short time. Just a few months ago Xander could remember nights spent in Buffy's room watching Bollywood movies and doing the English voice over to make the girls laugh.
That was just a few months ago.
That's all it was.
Despite the last few weeks he couldn't help but smile at the memories, both good and bad.
Joyce could be heard tinkering down stairs. It must have been a while since the last time she could fuss over somebody who needed it and to Xander she actually looked like she was enjoying the company.
Xander scratched at his arm where the needle had been inserted and winced; even now he could feel the need to dull even the little aches with the simple twist of a bottle cap and the swallowing of two small capsules, which would lead to four and then probably even more.
It would probably never go away.
Xander knew that all too well.
He still felt the sting of the backhand on his seventh birthday or the smack of the belt buckle as it struck his bare legs in his early teens and the sting of the split lip when he was fifteen, every pain ever inflicted by that man would forever be etched into Xander's memory.
But for once, for one small moment Xander could rationalise his behaviour and that almost made Xander sick to the stomach.
Backhanding a seven year old could never be rationalised.
Punching your son for not cleaning his room could never and should never be defended.
But Xander did understand the weakness that his father had, the weakness that he could never to this day overcome. He just hoped that weakness of will didn't run in the family.
Before he could go any deeper into his thoughts, thankfully, the door hitched slightly before Joyce stepped into the room, a tray in hand.
"Morning hon" Her smile was wide as she stepped around the bed and placed the tray in his lap "Breakfast is served..."
"You must have read my mind Mrs S... Joyce" He smiled for her benefit before his stomach growled "Or my stomach"
She laughed and swatted his arm "No doubt my daughter will be paying a visit shortly but I have to go to the museum, so I'll see you later. Remember this is your home while you're staying here, relax"
Smiling again for her benefit he nodded and watched as she left the room. A few minutes later the car could be heard pulling from the drive and onto the main road and she was gone.
He looked at the food on the tray, he was hungry but he just didn't want to eat he couldn't face it. Xander placed the tray down at his side and groaned slightly, his wrist still hurting whenever pressure was applied.
Been so close to death wasn't as altering an experience as Xander had hoped for, he could say that at least. All he remembered was the darkness, the feeling of been completely alone in a black void.
Maybe that was his blood hungry brain making up illusions as he got close to death.
Maybe
Xander couldn't face sitting in the bed a moment longer, he'd been there since they brought him from the hospital and he'd just about enough of lying around even if he was in pain and encountering withdrawal symptoms.
His first visit was the bathroom, he didn't intend to look for any painkillers but he ended up opening the cabinet despite that.
It was empty, completely so.
He had to smile, he knew it would be.
Washing his face he stared at the cold eyes of the person looking back in the mirror, the lonely eyes, the empty eyes and Xander couldn't help but wonder about a different life. One where he hadn't seen his friend die, one where he wasn't addicted to painkillers and one where he wasn't...
Things better left unthought-of.
He was wearing his pyjamas, they were too short and one leg was cut at the knee but it was the only pair he owned even if they were three years old. Xander knew that the last thing Joyce would want to see is him wandering around in his boxer's, although the fright it might give her would probably be funny to say the least.
The face in the mirror tried a smile on for size; a smile used to come so easily to him.
That was up until three weeks ago.
His next stop was the couch of the summer's residence, a couch like no other. One that was as nice to look at as it was as soft; he fell onto it backwards and sighed.
Good times best forgotten.
The past better left behind.
Xander dazed for a while, slipping in and out of consciousness as his head lolled from side to side. The images he saw too scary to talk about and too recent to forget.
He can't escape.
A key in the lock brought him around and he turned his head to see Buffy enter the house with a few bags in hand and a smile on her face.
Was he ever happier to see a face in his entire life?
Probably not.
"Xan... Your looking much better" her smile didn't reach her eyes, it hadn't since the hospital.
She was a good friend, not perfect, but the best friend a person could possibly hope for. He knew she needed closure on the incident and the drugs but didn't want to push him too much and for that he was grateful but a small part of him just wanted to scream, just wanted to yell.
That part of him wanted to be free of the nightmare he'd been living for the past month.
He smiled
"Yea, I feel it too... My muscles are all popeye like and everything"
Buffy took a seat next to him and pulled the plastic bag up to her knee.
"I have gifts..."
Xander smacked his hands together gleefully "for me?"
She laughed and handed him the bag.
Inside was everything a growing Xander needed.
The contents consisted of twinkies, Hoho's and the latest issue of spiderman.
What more could he hope for?
"Thanks..." He mumbled and she pulled his head to her shoulder.
Ever since that first hug in the hospital they'd touched more, they hugged more.
She deserved to know damnit.
She deserved everything.
He was scared, what if the truth scared her away.
What if she no longer wanted to be in his life because of it?
Could he cope with that?
He had to tell her.
"I... I killed a man"
-
A mumble into her shoulder but she heard it, as clear as she heard the birds chirping outside or the cat meowing 4 blocks away.
She heard it loud and clear and yet she remained still and gently pulled his head back to look into his eyes. Into the eyes of her Xander, the eyes of the same Xander that had saved her and Willow's life on countless occasions. The same Xander had made countless jokes just to make them happier in their hour of need.
They were the same eyes, dark brown but full of fear.
Fear of her reaction.
She didn't know the truth, maybe he did believe he killed a man but she knew that Xander wasn't capable of it.
Her yes Giles probably But Xander
Xander was probably the most sensitive and gentle person she knew and she was proud to say that.
He was capable of most things, being heroic, being funny and being smart.
But killing a man wasn't in his capabilities.
Not the way Xander made it sound at least.
Buffy couldn't do nothing but wait, wait for him to go on and hopefully shed some light on one of the most painful weeks of her life.
- How to start?
How to tell a friend you're a killer, a person that took somebody's life.
How to tell somebody you love that you watched as the life vanished from a persons very eyes.
Xander just picked the beginning, as all stories start.
"It was three weeks, two days and nine hours ago. I was walking through the cemetery on my way home, I knew I shouldn't be there without you trouble always seems to follow me"
Xander smiled half heartedly.
"I was whistling as usual as I walked. When I heard a sound in the bushes and been the cautious person that I am I was headed in that general direction before I knew it. My legs pumping and my eyes searching for anything but I came up short until I heard a scream again... I came upon a family, cowering... a little boy on the floor with a girl holding him and a woman crying her eyes out... there was so much blood coming from him but it wasn't from his neck like I had thought... "
Xander gulped as his throat suddenly went dry. He needed a drink but he'd be better telling the story while he still could.
"There was a man there, the boy's father I think... He had a knife and I just reacted... I launched myself at him.. I have no idea what happened next, it was just a struggle and I felt a warm liquid... it was his blood and his eyes went wide... I watched Buffy, I saw the light vanish from his eyes and for a moment, one moment, I was actually happy about that. About killing another person..."
Xander took a deep breath, his face filled with pain.
"I don't remember much after that except for the family vouching for me, it was his father. The mother wouldn't allow custody so he resorted to this. What a bastard"
Tears were falling now and Buffy moved her hands to catch every one but he blocked her and placed his hands in her own.
"I deserve these tears. I can still see his face every time I close my eyes; I still hear his breathing slow... Every time I fall to sleep I see him there, the knife in his stomach. Then I see me, smiling at it all... Laughing at the kill and then I remember that feeling Buffy. That one piece of happiness at his death and that's my entire day."
He looked at her intently, his eyes stained and his wrist aching as he just wanted to bury himself in the garden and let all the pain go away.
"Everyday and it will never stop. I guess that's why I became so self destructive, I guess I wanted to end it through any means necessary but I didn't want to feel the pain either and that's when the little bottle came in. Wanting to end it but not wanting to feel the pain, I'm so useless"
-
Perhaps she understood his feelings more than anyone else possibly could, she knew the feeling of ending something's life whether it was good or not didn't matter.
Sometimes at night she could still hear the screams of the many creatures she had ended, not through guilt but because of her own humanity reminding her of the things she never wanted to remember.
Buffy found it hard to distinguish between being jovial at its death or because she had saved somebody else from death at the beginning of her slaying career, she later realised it was more the latter than it ever was the former.
That was the same problem Xander was having.
What could she say to make it better, to make him know she understood?
Buffy realised there couldn't possibly be anything anyone could say to him at the moment to alleviate his guilt or his pain.
Nothing in the entire world could make him happy just yet.
But one day he'll get there and Buffy will be there right with him, helping him every step of the way.
Over the last year Buffy had felt the friendship between her and Xander wane and weaken due to both sides. She could only hope that while helping him they could find the friendship they once had.
A voice deep inside Buffy told her they could and possibly more.
The sequel to 'Clarity' in the "Searching For" Series
So I lied when I said it was a one piece, sue me... I don't have any money but you can have my pog collection.
This fanfic is based on Buffy the Vampire slayer created by Joss Whedon and Fox Entertainment.
By Michael Dunbar
-
Xander never realised how much he had depended on them small pathetic capsules to dull his pain, emotional or physical it didn't seem to matter. He had always reached for that small bottle just to get through one more hour of the day.
He'd escaped the clutches of the hospital not 2 days ago and was now in the confines of Buffy's room.
Mrs Summers had demanded that he stay at her house if only for the support of others through the difficult period of his rehabilitation. He was given the number for many support groups and the local shrink either of which he didn't plan to visit anytime soon.
He could get through this with the help of his friends.
Not one of them had mentioned the pills, but it was sure to come out eventually and then so would the answers.
The answers he himself had only really just discovered recently through many hours of thinking in his time in the hospital. He knew the many reasons that things turned out the way they did and for once he had no inclination to keep quiet.
He would tell them.
After all, they deserved it.
Buffy's room was bare now. All of her stuff either in the spare room or at the dorm where she lived.
They'd all moved on so much in such a short time. Just a few months ago Xander could remember nights spent in Buffy's room watching Bollywood movies and doing the English voice over to make the girls laugh.
That was just a few months ago.
That's all it was.
Despite the last few weeks he couldn't help but smile at the memories, both good and bad.
Joyce could be heard tinkering down stairs. It must have been a while since the last time she could fuss over somebody who needed it and to Xander she actually looked like she was enjoying the company.
Xander scratched at his arm where the needle had been inserted and winced; even now he could feel the need to dull even the little aches with the simple twist of a bottle cap and the swallowing of two small capsules, which would lead to four and then probably even more.
It would probably never go away.
Xander knew that all too well.
He still felt the sting of the backhand on his seventh birthday or the smack of the belt buckle as it struck his bare legs in his early teens and the sting of the split lip when he was fifteen, every pain ever inflicted by that man would forever be etched into Xander's memory.
But for once, for one small moment Xander could rationalise his behaviour and that almost made Xander sick to the stomach.
Backhanding a seven year old could never be rationalised.
Punching your son for not cleaning his room could never and should never be defended.
But Xander did understand the weakness that his father had, the weakness that he could never to this day overcome. He just hoped that weakness of will didn't run in the family.
Before he could go any deeper into his thoughts, thankfully, the door hitched slightly before Joyce stepped into the room, a tray in hand.
"Morning hon" Her smile was wide as she stepped around the bed and placed the tray in his lap "Breakfast is served..."
"You must have read my mind Mrs S... Joyce" He smiled for her benefit before his stomach growled "Or my stomach"
She laughed and swatted his arm "No doubt my daughter will be paying a visit shortly but I have to go to the museum, so I'll see you later. Remember this is your home while you're staying here, relax"
Smiling again for her benefit he nodded and watched as she left the room. A few minutes later the car could be heard pulling from the drive and onto the main road and she was gone.
He looked at the food on the tray, he was hungry but he just didn't want to eat he couldn't face it. Xander placed the tray down at his side and groaned slightly, his wrist still hurting whenever pressure was applied.
Been so close to death wasn't as altering an experience as Xander had hoped for, he could say that at least. All he remembered was the darkness, the feeling of been completely alone in a black void.
Maybe that was his blood hungry brain making up illusions as he got close to death.
Maybe
Xander couldn't face sitting in the bed a moment longer, he'd been there since they brought him from the hospital and he'd just about enough of lying around even if he was in pain and encountering withdrawal symptoms.
His first visit was the bathroom, he didn't intend to look for any painkillers but he ended up opening the cabinet despite that.
It was empty, completely so.
He had to smile, he knew it would be.
Washing his face he stared at the cold eyes of the person looking back in the mirror, the lonely eyes, the empty eyes and Xander couldn't help but wonder about a different life. One where he hadn't seen his friend die, one where he wasn't addicted to painkillers and one where he wasn't...
Things better left unthought-of.
He was wearing his pyjamas, they were too short and one leg was cut at the knee but it was the only pair he owned even if they were three years old. Xander knew that the last thing Joyce would want to see is him wandering around in his boxer's, although the fright it might give her would probably be funny to say the least.
The face in the mirror tried a smile on for size; a smile used to come so easily to him.
That was up until three weeks ago.
His next stop was the couch of the summer's residence, a couch like no other. One that was as nice to look at as it was as soft; he fell onto it backwards and sighed.
Good times best forgotten.
The past better left behind.
Xander dazed for a while, slipping in and out of consciousness as his head lolled from side to side. The images he saw too scary to talk about and too recent to forget.
He can't escape.
A key in the lock brought him around and he turned his head to see Buffy enter the house with a few bags in hand and a smile on her face.
Was he ever happier to see a face in his entire life?
Probably not.
"Xan... Your looking much better" her smile didn't reach her eyes, it hadn't since the hospital.
She was a good friend, not perfect, but the best friend a person could possibly hope for. He knew she needed closure on the incident and the drugs but didn't want to push him too much and for that he was grateful but a small part of him just wanted to scream, just wanted to yell.
That part of him wanted to be free of the nightmare he'd been living for the past month.
He smiled
"Yea, I feel it too... My muscles are all popeye like and everything"
Buffy took a seat next to him and pulled the plastic bag up to her knee.
"I have gifts..."
Xander smacked his hands together gleefully "for me?"
She laughed and handed him the bag.
Inside was everything a growing Xander needed.
The contents consisted of twinkies, Hoho's and the latest issue of spiderman.
What more could he hope for?
"Thanks..." He mumbled and she pulled his head to her shoulder.
Ever since that first hug in the hospital they'd touched more, they hugged more.
She deserved to know damnit.
She deserved everything.
He was scared, what if the truth scared her away.
What if she no longer wanted to be in his life because of it?
Could he cope with that?
He had to tell her.
"I... I killed a man"
-
A mumble into her shoulder but she heard it, as clear as she heard the birds chirping outside or the cat meowing 4 blocks away.
She heard it loud and clear and yet she remained still and gently pulled his head back to look into his eyes. Into the eyes of her Xander, the eyes of the same Xander that had saved her and Willow's life on countless occasions. The same Xander had made countless jokes just to make them happier in their hour of need.
They were the same eyes, dark brown but full of fear.
Fear of her reaction.
She didn't know the truth, maybe he did believe he killed a man but she knew that Xander wasn't capable of it.
Her yes Giles probably But Xander
Xander was probably the most sensitive and gentle person she knew and she was proud to say that.
He was capable of most things, being heroic, being funny and being smart.
But killing a man wasn't in his capabilities.
Not the way Xander made it sound at least.
Buffy couldn't do nothing but wait, wait for him to go on and hopefully shed some light on one of the most painful weeks of her life.
- How to start?
How to tell a friend you're a killer, a person that took somebody's life.
How to tell somebody you love that you watched as the life vanished from a persons very eyes.
Xander just picked the beginning, as all stories start.
"It was three weeks, two days and nine hours ago. I was walking through the cemetery on my way home, I knew I shouldn't be there without you trouble always seems to follow me"
Xander smiled half heartedly.
"I was whistling as usual as I walked. When I heard a sound in the bushes and been the cautious person that I am I was headed in that general direction before I knew it. My legs pumping and my eyes searching for anything but I came up short until I heard a scream again... I came upon a family, cowering... a little boy on the floor with a girl holding him and a woman crying her eyes out... there was so much blood coming from him but it wasn't from his neck like I had thought... "
Xander gulped as his throat suddenly went dry. He needed a drink but he'd be better telling the story while he still could.
"There was a man there, the boy's father I think... He had a knife and I just reacted... I launched myself at him.. I have no idea what happened next, it was just a struggle and I felt a warm liquid... it was his blood and his eyes went wide... I watched Buffy, I saw the light vanish from his eyes and for a moment, one moment, I was actually happy about that. About killing another person..."
Xander took a deep breath, his face filled with pain.
"I don't remember much after that except for the family vouching for me, it was his father. The mother wouldn't allow custody so he resorted to this. What a bastard"
Tears were falling now and Buffy moved her hands to catch every one but he blocked her and placed his hands in her own.
"I deserve these tears. I can still see his face every time I close my eyes; I still hear his breathing slow... Every time I fall to sleep I see him there, the knife in his stomach. Then I see me, smiling at it all... Laughing at the kill and then I remember that feeling Buffy. That one piece of happiness at his death and that's my entire day."
He looked at her intently, his eyes stained and his wrist aching as he just wanted to bury himself in the garden and let all the pain go away.
"Everyday and it will never stop. I guess that's why I became so self destructive, I guess I wanted to end it through any means necessary but I didn't want to feel the pain either and that's when the little bottle came in. Wanting to end it but not wanting to feel the pain, I'm so useless"
-
Perhaps she understood his feelings more than anyone else possibly could, she knew the feeling of ending something's life whether it was good or not didn't matter.
Sometimes at night she could still hear the screams of the many creatures she had ended, not through guilt but because of her own humanity reminding her of the things she never wanted to remember.
Buffy found it hard to distinguish between being jovial at its death or because she had saved somebody else from death at the beginning of her slaying career, she later realised it was more the latter than it ever was the former.
That was the same problem Xander was having.
What could she say to make it better, to make him know she understood?
Buffy realised there couldn't possibly be anything anyone could say to him at the moment to alleviate his guilt or his pain.
Nothing in the entire world could make him happy just yet.
But one day he'll get there and Buffy will be there right with him, helping him every step of the way.
Over the last year Buffy had felt the friendship between her and Xander wane and weaken due to both sides. She could only hope that while helping him they could find the friendship they once had.
A voice deep inside Buffy told her they could and possibly more.