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Xander woke up with a horrible headache. Where the hell am I, he thought looking around the messy motel room he had been renting for the past several months. He rolled over and reached out to the pillow beside him, but there was nothing there. Then he remembered. He remembered everything all at once just like he did every morning for the past two years. The pain, the loss, Anya. After they had left Sunnydale everyone had tried to reach out to him, supporting him after his loss but he couldn’t take it. Everything reminded him of her. Even his friends reminded him of her. Everyone did the best they could, they never mentioned her name, but it was just all too much. So he left.
He knew running away wasn’t the answer. He knew running away hurt his friends, especially Willow. He missed them, he really did, but he couldn’t go back. Everyday he tried but he could never muster the courage. He knew he was the one who was supposed to be strong for all his friends, he knew if he went back his friends would probably help the ache inside, he knew he needed to leave, to get out of this place. And he knew eventually he would leave. Go back, someday. But today was not that day, so he rolled over, closed his eyes and tried to sleep all the hurt away.
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