Zero
by Rob Morris
EARLY SUMMER, 2002
Xander shook his head at the funeral director.
"Mister Jansen, I know they screwed you over on my granpa's funeral. So just cremate them. Give them a decent space, and keep the rest of the funeral coverage money for yourself."
The man nodded at Xander.
"You know, this is the reason you have a tab at Larry's butcher shop, when your parents weren't even allowed to touch the free samples. Xander, I hate saying this, but if they had to go, I'm glad they went while you still have your whole life ahead of you. No one should have to kill themselves over people like those. Frankly, I'm surprised they even had enough life insurance to cover their own burial."
Xander was surprised by this, too, but was still too ground up inside to think much more of it. He was supposed to feel something for these people. Instead, all he could remember was his last visit, and their vague threats to make him pay for the wedding that never was. He'd hidden their car keys as usual, before he left. Just not very well.
"My cell?"
Xander was confused, solidly remembering shutting it off entirely. The thought that this could have been done mystically only occurred to him as he heard the caller's voice.
"Xander?"
"Giles? Hey, is Willow alright?"
"She is. Ms. Harkness-no comic book comments, if you would- is handling her recalibration and general rest. But I'm calling regarding your recent loss."
Xander sat down in the funeral home's lobby.
"I wish it felt more like a loss, Giles. I mean, I knew for a long time that they weren't exactly parent material. But I think I'm supposed to grieve. And I am. Over Tara. And I felt rotten when I found out how Warren killed his girlfriend. My own parents, though? Nothing. I'm not
even numb. So give with the lecture on unappreciative Gen Xers. I deserve it."
Giles sighed on the other end.
"I'll do no such thing. You've every right to look down upon those wretches. In fact, you have much more right than you know. And with their deaths, I am free to make you aware of just how loathsome they truly were. Xander, look over in the nearby mirror."
He did, and was more surprised than shocked to see Giles' image inside it. Xander couldn't resist a crack.
"Al-when do I leap?"
"Indeed. May I continue?"
"Sure. But let me keep on the cell, for obvious reasons."
Giles nodded.
"A wise precaution, even in Sunnydale. In fact, I'm surprised that you-no, no time for that. Xander, I will be blunt. The Harrises were not your true parents."
Xander's jaw dropped a bit.
"So I'm adopted?"
"Not legally."
Xander tried again.
"I'm from some third-world-y place that didn't ask a lot of questions?"
"You are very much American."
"I got it! Its like Jack Nicholson, right? They had a kid, the kid had me, and they were really my grandfolks, and...and..Giles, I really only have the one more option, here."
Giles' image nodded.
"Say it."
Xander did just that.
"They stole me. They took me from someone else. Giles, if you know all this, then you know who my real parents are. Are they alive?"
Giles pointed to Xander's hand.
"In grief over your mother's death, you slammed that hand through a wall. It became stuck and injured as a result."
Xander's eyes became like saucers.
"Joyce? Joyce?! What, did she have an affair?"
Giles tried to end this. There was far too much to relate in this manner.
"She did not. Now hear me. The Harrises were barren, and that tied into your theft. Joyce found you, but feared certain actions they might take if she tried to reclaim you. She made me promise to keep my silence until now. And you are the twin brother of the girl who you have aided
and fought beside these six years. I will send more details in a fax. Xander-can you cope for now?"
The younger man looked directly at the mirror.
"Giles, you know how some people have to start over again from square one?"
Xander looked mostly stunned. Soon, he realized, he would have to relay these same truths to a young woman whom he had quite literally known since the very beginning.
"Well, mostly I'd say that this is square zero."