Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long, I've been having major writer's block all around on all my stories.

He opened his eyes blearily and saw the outline of someone in the distance. He closed his eyes again falling back into the comforting darkness. He opened his eyes again, this time, less fuzzy than before and he saw Willow looking down at him.

"Willow?" Xander asked confused wondering why Willow was in his room...until his memories caught had helped him fall asleep when his mind had been too busy to allow it.

"Thanks Wills," he said making his way up from his bed.

"You looked like hell."

"Thanks," this time he said more irritated. He hoped that Willow wasn't going to again try to get him to talk, but Willow wasn't looking at him anymore but at something, something that smelled good.

"What is that?"

"Rebecca made it," Willow said and his mouth started watering at the words. Rebecca was a great cook. In fact, before she had come to Cleveland for her main job she had been a chef. Yet another reason why he loved Rebecca. Except that Rebecca hardly ever cooked anymore. She like Willow had duties that kept her busy. Most of the time they had takeout or frozen dinners, unless one of the slayers decided to cook for them. That actually happened quite a bit surprisingly enough. Mostly it was their attempt to butter willow up and, but some of them actually knew how much the two of them worked and wanted to help them out.

"What is it?" he asked inching closer to it. The door opened and Rebbeca put down bowls and little plates on the table next the food.

"Potato and Cauliflower curry," she said as she put two sets of forks and knives on the table along with something covered in aluminum foil. "And some Nan," she said and then turned towards them. He noticed that there were only two sets so he and Willow were going to dine by themselves. "Bon Appetite," she said and then turned to go. The smell of the bread and curry was so good he said.

"Leave Willow, run away with me," she laughed because she knew that he was kidding. She turned to him.

"You're not my type," she replied with a smirk. He knew exactly what her type was, Willow. She nodded to Willow and this time successfully left the room.

Xander tried to get up from the bed only for Willow to push him back down. He looked up at her in confusion. She smiled down at him in what he supposed was supposed to be a devious smirk only he could see the concern more than the deviousness.

"Uh, Willow how am I supposed to eat if you're not going to let me up?" he asked, but knew that she had done it on purpose and was likely to do it again unless he could convince her otherwise.

"Xander, it's not healthy to hold things inside,"

"Willow no," He said as he had a feeling where she was going with this. She had done it once before, the devious smart witch that she was.

"You don't have to talk but you also don't have to eat this," she said as she used a spoon to spoon some of the food into a bowl which she then took a bite of. It smelled heavenly. Absolutely heavenly, he knew what he needed to do in order to get some but he wasn't sure which he wanted more to keep his thoughts to himself or to have some the food.

But it smelled so good, so very good. Maybe, just a little bit. But what to say that wasn't too close to home but would get him a little bit of that food?

"She loved when I made her pancakes," the words left his mouth before he had settled on them. "I used to do it all the time when I was a kid," he said absently. He made them for her mornings after his Dad hurt her or when she was sick and sometimes on Saturday mornings. It was one of the few non-microwave foods he could cook. She used to be so proud of him, but then she started to turn it away. He knew now it was because usually she was hungover and prone to throwing it up but he hadn't known back then. All he had known was that his mother didn't want the pancakes that he had worked so hard to make for her. It had hurt. So much of his childhood had hurt, and now there would be no making up for it. She was dead. She was gone. She had apologized but that didn't make up for it.

He shook his head hoping to clear it. As good as Rebecca's food was it wasn't worth the pain. However, he had apparently earned himself a few spoonfuls from his small admission. He grabbed the bowl as soon as Willow put the bowl down and eagerly gulped the few spoonfuls down. It tasted even better than it smelled. All too soon he was out of it and the smell still wafted in his nostrils. Maybe there was something else something smaller just so he could one more bite. Or maybe he should just leave before things got worse? She wouldn't make him stay, he knew that. This wasn't about forcing him, just making it easier for him to talk if he would allow himself to. He was torn between finding something small and just leaving. Just one more bite than he would leave, he decided. What was something small.

" I miss her," that's also not what he meant to say but it's tumbled out. "I miss her so much," he said and his eyes starting blurring as tears starting streaming out. He felt himself being hugged tightly and let her hold him as he cried great big heaving sobs. Part of him felt like he shouldn't miss her, he had spent years ignoring her existence but now that she was gone, miss her he did.

He wasn't sure what to do about that. Wasn't sure how to be okay with the fact that the two of them would never be able to have the kind of relationship he had dreamed of as a kid but had hidden under layers of resentment and anger and then just avoidance. He didn't know how to deal with the fact that she was gone and she was never going to be there for him again. Was never going to be able to to make it right and he had no idea how to deal with that. But he did have Willow to hold onto as he cried into her like she was the biggest kleenex in the world, at least, that was something.

Please let me know what you think.