Author's Notes: Somewhat AU events of "Welcome to the Hellmouth"; Willow gets taken by the vamps instead of Jesse, who still dies, but not before imparting some wisdom to Xander. Everything else remains the same. Set after Buffy crushes the Master's bones in "When She Was Bad."D
Dedication: To Jess, Sairs, Melissa, and Pete, who inspire and encourage me. 'Nuff said. :)
"Come the Dawning"
If it weren't for the fact that I really missed Jesse, I'd have cursed him every day since his death. As it was, I felt so guilty about the way Jesse died that whenever I thought about my old friend, which was often, I offered up a silent apology for what I had said and done to him that night. He hadn't deserved my anger.
He'd been lying there, dying of blood loss, and still he was more concerned about me. He reminded me of Willow like that, in some ways. He was kind of cocky, despite the fact that the three of us were about as popular as lepers, but when it came down to it, he looked out for me as much as he looked out for Willow. And he'd been as devastated as I was when we realized Willow'd been taken.
It had been a tough decision, letting Buffy go after the vamps that had taken Willow, at least without me to follow. But I knew that Buffy would find her and protect her, and someone had to stay with Jesse. I knelt beside him as he struggled to breathe, and I think I knew before he ever started gasping that he was going to die before we could get him help. When he started talking, I'd told him to shut up and save his breath, 'cause I was gonna kick his ass later for worrying me.
He'd insisted, though. Said he knew he was going to die and that he had to tell me something before he did. And as much as I tried to get him to quit talking, he'd asked me about Willow. Surprised the hell out of me enough that I stopped telling him to be quiet and started listening to him. He asked me the most random question, asked me if he'd ever asked Willow out, what would I have done?
I blew him off, saying that he could have done whatever he wanted. He got mad at me, told me to quit screwing around and really think about the question. I was so stunned that I obeyed. As I thought about it, I realized I didn't like the idea. He wanted my honesty, so I gave it to him.
"Jess, sorry man, but it never would have happened."
"Why not?" he challenged me.
"She never would have had you, man," I said apologetically.
"Why do you think that is?"
I paused. "You weren't good enough for her."
I'd been afraid of offending him, but like I said, honesty was key to him. He wasn't upset, though. "Damn straight, Xand. Neither of us is good enough for her."
I did a double-take. "When did I get brought into the picture?"
Jesse smiled ruefully. "You've always been in the picture, man. Don't you get it?" By this point his breathing was getting labored, he was coughing every other word, so I again told him to shut up. He shook his head, determined to say his peace. "Xander, think hard. What would you have done if I'd asked Willow out, and she'd said *yes*?"
I scowled. "I never would have let it happen, Jesse," I snapped. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I didn't ever want you with Willow? That I would have gladly denied you something that would have made you happy, just because I didn't think you deserved her?"
Jesse grinned up at me. "Yeah, Xand, that's what I wanted to hear."
I stood up, towering over him. "Jesse, I don't understand why you're bringing this up. This is the last thing you should be wasting your breath on. I don't want to be angry at you."
Jesse nodded weakly, his head heavy. "Because you know I'm going to die. It's okay, Xander. I know it. But this is important-I have to make you see."
"Make me see what?"
Jesse's eyes closed. "That she's yours. She's always been yours. And you've always been hers." I stood staring at him, stupefied, as he took his last breath. And when I realized he was gone, I dropped to my knees and hit him.
"You selfish son of a bitch!" I howled. "How can you do this to me? How can you die? How can you leave me and Willow?"
I struck at him for what seemed like forever, before I finally ran out of anger and despair, and just settled on grief. Pulling myself to my feet, I made my way to the cemetery's entrance, waiting just a few moments before the ambulance arrived. Thank God Buffy had called for emergency help, because I'd been too out of my mind to think of it. Not that it had done Jesse any good, but I felt better knowing that he would be properly taken
care of.
Coming out of my reverie, I thought on Jesse's last words, something I often did. Difficult as it was, I examined my friendship with Willow, my feelings for her. I'd scoffed at Jesse's idea that we belonged to each other. It was a ridiculous notion. Me and Willow? Together? Laughable. Wills had been and always would be my best friend-why wreck that with romance and relationship crap?
Then I started thinking about what I would do if she wasn't around. If she'd died that night instead of Jesse. As much as I missed Jesse, his death didn't devastate me. Willow's would have. But that's natural, right? We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, much longer than me and Jesse.
What it boiled down to was that she's my other half. Always has been, always will be.
And I figured out that was what Jesse meant that night. We've always been a part of each other, and so we sort of belong to each other. But that doesn't mean we're meant to be together like *that*, right? I mean, Willow's not a girl-not the way it counts, anyway. She's female, yeah, has the whole double X chromosome thing down, but she's not girly, she's not all perfume-y and primpy and coated with makeup and trendy clothes from Neiman Marcus.
In essence, she's not Cordelia.
And may I say a quick "Thank you, God!" for that one?
That was, of course, everything I thought up until the other night. The night Buffy came home, and I suddenly saw my old best friend through new eyes.
I couldn't even decipher what had happened. Wills and I were playing the quote game, like we usually do, and I bopped her on the nose with my ice cream cone. We'd been doing silly stuff like that for years. But all of a sudden, I looked into those eyes I'd looked into a million times before, and something was different. I couldn't explain it, but I started thinking like a guy and not like a friend. I started thinking, "Wow, nice lips. Sweet smile. Soft eyes. Kiss now." And being the mentally challenged guy I am,
I started to go for it.
I'll never know what would have happened if that vamp, or Buffy, hadn't shown up.
All I know is that a couple hours ago, Buffy was nearly responsible for Willow's death. If Willow had died at the hands of the Master's loyal followers, I would have turned on Buffy. The girl I supposedly "loved." What does that tell me? That Willow is more important to me than Buffy is.
Let's all give a round of applause for the deductive reasoning skills *that* required.
Right now I want to hold Willow to me like I did in the factory. I want to feel her heartbeat next to mine, know that she's alright. Logically, I already know that. Willow's always been resilient that way. But Giles and Miss Calendar have each other, Cordelia has her flock of friends to enthrall with her tales of near death and dress stains. Willow doesn't have anyone right now, because Buffy's all cuddled up with Angel.
That settled it. It was time to go over to Willow's to be with her, like I should have done from the beginning.
Not that I was stupid enough to run right outside and over to her house. I took the time to arm myself with holy water, a stake, and a rough wooden cross. Something I could throw away before I walked into Ira Rosenberg's home. Keeping an eye out in all directions, I made it to Willow's in record time.
"Knock, knock," I hollered into the window, which was open to let the breeze in. A few seconds later, Sheila opened the door with a reproving look on her face, paired with a warm smile for her favorite adopted son.
"You know better than to yell, Xander," she chided good-naturedly as she let me in.
"I know, Mom," I said, giving her a quick hug. "I should have just walked in and interrupted your show."
"You would have never been an interruption!" she exclaimed. Then she winked at me. "It's on commercial, anyway."
I laughed. "So Willow's here, right?"
She sighed and shook her head at me as she took her place on the couch. "Where else would my bookworm daughter be at ten at night?" she asked rhetorically. We shared a knowing smile. Willow would always be Willow, and therefore sitting up in her room, studying.
A sobering thought hit me. *She could be crying, too, you know,* my brain reminded me, *or laying in bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling because she's too afraid to sleep.* Shaking that disturbing image off, I glanced upstairs. "You mind if I go up and bug her?"
She waved me off as her program came back on. "Have at it. You know her, no matter how busy she is, she'll be thrilled to see you."
*She will,* I thought unhappily as I slowly climbed the stairs. *She's always made time for you, always been happy to see you. Can you say the same? Or can you only say that you always blew her off for Buffy, expected that she would understand your ignoring her for another girl who never gave you the time of day? Can you say that you've been as good a friend to her as she's been to you?*
The sad truth was, I couldn't. *But I'm going to make it up to her,* I vowed as I knocked on her door.
"Mom, I'm kinda busy." Willow's tired voice floated through the door and I felt a pang in my heart. I'd let her down.
"It's not Mom," I said lightly.
The door was immediately thrown open, and there was a blinding smile and a beautiful face, behind which was Willow.
My Willow.
God. How could I have not seen it before? Even after Jesse threw it in my face, I still didn't get it. The look on her face when I said those cruel things to her during my hyena possession, it was more than just hurt that I would be so mean, it was absolute devastation. The look of a girl who's been completely rejected by someone she loves.
Then there was her disappointment when I told her I wanted to ask Buffy to Spring Fling. For God's sake, I *practiced* my technique on her. To Willow's credit, she was always supportive and she didn't ever let on how much it hurt that I was choosing Buffy over her. I hadn't noticed at the time, although something must have registered in my brain for me to remember it now.
"Xander?"
Willow's bemused voice broke through my daze. I blinked at her, realizing that I'd completely zoned out, standing in her doorway.
"Yeah?"
"Did you just come over here so I could watch you glaze over?" she asked with a smirk.
"No," I retorted, moving past her into her room. I took a steadying breath as I turned around and looked at her. Her concerned half-smile touched me. She'd gone through a terrifying ordeal just hours ago, and here she was worried about *me*.
How did I get so lucky? What quirk of fate allowed me to become best friends with the only perfect woman in the world? And how cruel was it to keep me blind to her?
I didn't say anything as I threw my arms around her. She squeaked in surprise, and I buried my face in her shoulder. Her arms came up tentatively, encircling my waist.
"Xand? I'm not a vampire. Breathing is pretty much a necessity for me."
I relaxed my grip on her slightly, pulling back and looking into her apprehensive eyes. "I'm sorry, Wills," I said quietly. "I just had to make sure you were okay, y'know, after the whole attempted sacrifice thing."
Willow's smile faltered slightly, but she gazed at me steadily. "I'm okay," she said finally. "Really okay."
I exhaled loudly and closed my eyes in relief, unaware until now of just how afraid I had been that she *wasn't* okay. But I believed her. My Willow could never lie to me.
"You're still performing the death grip on me." I opened my eyes and saw her looking at me strangely. "Xander, are *you* okay?" she asked cautiously. "You're sure acting... different."
I let go of her and stepped away, lowering my head and attempting to collect my thoughts. "I feel different," I confessed.
Willow's face closed down. "Oh," she said softly. She sat down on the bed, staring at her clasped hands lying in her lap. "It's because Buffy's back with Angel, isn't it?" she offered.
My head shot up and I blinked at her in confusion. "What? Oh, no. Hell no." To think that she still thought all this was about Buffy... God, did I screw up. How badly have I hurt her, that now she can't even recognize when I'm worried about her?
Willow looked at me funny. "'Hell no'?" she repeated. Her brow wrinkled. "That's not something I thought I'd ever hear you say. What's going on, Xander?"
I sat down beside her, reaching for her hands and pulling them into my lap, holding them between both of mine. Her breathing hitched, and her eyes closed. When she opened them again, it was like she was trying to force away anything resembling hope.
I am *such* an idiot. They should engrave it on my headstone one day.
"Wills, I'm sorry," I whispered. She tilted her head, not understanding. "I let you down."
Tears came to her eyes and she shook her head vehemently. "You could never let me down, Xander," she said fiercely. "Never."
I sighed. "You think that, Willow, but it's not true," I told her unhappily. "I've let you down so many times, especially since Buffy came to Sunnydale. I haven't been there for you like I should have."
She smiled softly and pulled her hands from my grip, instead wrapping them around my neck and hugging me tightly. "You're everything I need you to be, Xander," she assured me. She let me go and sat back.
I took a deep breath. "Except what you needed me to be the most," I reminded her. Willow flushed, her eyes widening. "You needed me to love you, and I let you down."
She wouldn't meet my eyes as she began stammering out some sort of denial. "No, Xand, I never... Well, I didn't mean to... But it's not like that..."
I put my finger to her lips and waited until the protests finally died from them. When she was quiet, staring at me wide-eyed, I smiled. "I'm done letting you down, Willow," I vowed, looking into her eyes so I could see when it dawned on her.
It was beautiful, watching the light come into those gorgeous eyes I'd been in love with my entire life, even if I hadn't known it. Almost as soon as they lit up, they became cloudy with unshed tears. "Xander," she started, her voice breaking.
"I love you, Willow," I said simply, not letting her finish what she wanted to say. I had to get it out. "I love you, and I'm in love with you, and I can't imagine us not being a part of each other. I'm only grateful that you waited for me to figure it out, without giving up on me. I would have deserved it," I added with a short laugh. I wrapped my arms around her and she curled up into me, her voice murmuring in wonder. "I love you, Wills," I said again, finally.
She was quiet, too quiet, and I began to be concerned. Maybe I was wrong, maybe that wasn't what she'd wanted from me... I breathed a sigh of relief and almost chuckled when I felt the damp spot from my shirt press against my chest. "Don't cry, honey," I whispered soothingly.
Willow sat up and wiped at her eyes. "I can't help it," she protested. She gave me a watery smile and my heart melted. "I've been waiting for years for you to tell me that. I was beginning to believe you never would. And it just came out of nowhere..." She trailed off.
I grinned lop-sidedly. "Not out of nowhere," I admitted. "Before Jesse died..." I took another deep breath. "Before he died, Jesse let me in on a little secret. He said that you were mine, you've always been mine. And that I've always been yours. It just took me a little longer to figure out what exactly he meant by that."
Willow's smile shone radiantly. "I always did like that boy," she said with a giggle.
I brought my hand up to frame her face, my thumb trailing lightly over her lower lip. Her laughter died, her smile wavering as she held her breath. I lowered my lips to her, brushing them softly across hers, feeling like finally, I'd gotten something right. Her sigh of happiness was enough to tell me that I was done screwing up with her. Maybe not with the little things, even Willow knew that I couldn't stop that, but I'd made up for the hurt I caused her. That was good enough for her.
*Thanks, Jess,* I thought silently, casting up a prayer of gratitude. *I finally heard what you were saying.*
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