What Happens Now?: Part Two - Xander
by Perdita X DeVise
I am a lowly ficcer, I owneth not a jot; Joss owns quite simply everything-- The man just can't be bought!
You get the idea. Read.
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Part Two
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Five weeks. His cast was coming off in five weeks.
Xander dropped his book on the bed and flexed the fingers of his left hand. Holding the heavy tome open without the help of his right hand cramped the muscles and eventually became painful, so he couldn't read too much at a time.
Read. The boy snorted. If Willow knew he was voluntarily reading, she'd have a heart attack. Especially if she knew what his reading material was...
He'd come across the books of poetry while he helped Giles clean up the shelves that the vampire had pushed over onto his best friend. There were three volumes in total, each filled with academic verse--interspersed with instructions on how the poetry could be used in spells. The writers were mundane--Milton, Blake, Coleridge, Tennyson--but the works were changed by the compilers, who worked added meaning into the phrases, turning poems like The Divine Image into a summons for demonical hellspawn. Xander was vaguely disturbed by the twisting of the words, but found the material too interesting to stop reading.
Of course, it take a tragedy like the one he'd lived through to make him want to read classic poetry.
Sighing heavily, Xander rolled off his bed and walked slowly around his room, glancing over the various things decorating the walls--and floor--of his humble abode. He could remember with perfect clarity where he'd come across each item. Willow had been with him for most of them--Willow or Jesse.
He closed his eyes briefly. He'd lost Jesse to the vampires; he'd almost lost Willow to plain old violent death. And now Buffy was gone...how many more? How was he going to lose Cordelia?
Cordelia. Xander felt an ironic smile twist his mouth for a second. Who saw her coming? He'd hated her for as long as he'd known her; but then, didn't Willow tell him at some point that hate and love were the two closest emotions? Then again, maybe he'd heard it on Springer.
Love and hate. They were the biggies. He loved Cordelia, groping opportunities or no. He also loved Willow, which was driving him crazy. How long had she pined after him before Oz came along? Better yet, how could he not have noticed how good they could have been together? And why did it have to take almost losing her to get him to notice? Heavy questions, ones he didn't feel like thinking about. So instead, he thought about Buffy.
Yes, he loved Buffy, even if it had turned into more of a friendship thing than the lustfulness that it was when she first showed up. He'd seen so much of her after two years that he wasn't sure if she was what he wanted any more. Of course, if she offered, he'd take her, all present melodramatic thoughts aside. He loved her, but he would be happy with keeping their relationship the way she wanted it. If she ever came back.
Love and hate. Well, he'd gone through the love. Who did he hate?
Xander stared distractedly out the window at the warm, sunny afternoon. That was easy. He hated Angel, and sincerely hoped that, whatever else happened in that mansion after he'd left, Buffy had killed the bastard. He would have done it himself, for what the vampire had put them through. For what he'd put through...
He hated to admit it, but before Angel had lost his soul, he'd thought of the vampire as a friend. Nothing like what Jesse had been, of course, but someone who was going through the same things he was--a general lack of direction in life, a going-nowhere attitude, a lust for Buffy...
Buffy. He'd lied to Buffy. Xander shook his head, jumping on the truth in an attempt to make it a little less harsh. No, he hadn't lied to her. He just knew that Angelus needed to be destroyed, and the Slayer couldn't risk enough to do it if she knew there was a chance she'd get the real Angel back. Willow's plan had been risky from the start, and attempting to bring back his soul again was too dangerous for Buffy, for Giles--for him.
Because if Angel came back, he'd be welcomed and forgiven. And Xander didn't think he would be able to forgive as readily as the others.
His room was suddenly too small for him. Xander took a deep, constricted breath, forcing back the tears that threatened to run onto his face. Hurrying towards the door, he realized that he wanted to go to the library, even if he wasn't going to see Buffy there. She was gone, Angel was gone, Willow was with Oz.
*What happens now?*
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