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A small cloud lifted from the rubble as Xander's toe scuffled through the dirt with enough momentum to pass the barrier and finally fall over down the sides and into the crater. The noise of rocks rumbling downward echoed as Xander listened to the small debris fell into a seamlessly endless pit of the Hellmouth--- silence followed.
Shoulders slumped; for the umpteenth time Xander glanced around searching for a sign, any sign of her return. Ever since he found out about Spike's return he couldn't help but think that maybe.... And if she could return, today would be the day she'd want to return for. It wasn't their anniversary, or even her rebirth/vengeance anniversary, her human nor demon birthday; no today was Black Friday. And in about an hour retail doors around the country were about to open for the 5:00 morning madness....Anya's favorite day of the year.
Organisms, money and retail; priorities mixed with ultimate pleasure that were neck and neck on Anya's lists of must haves, must dos. Not that Xander ever doubted her love, or friendship, but Anya was never one to hide her feeling about anything. It was one of the traits he most valued her blatant honesty. He never questioned where he stood with Anya. Any problem they ever had, as a couple had been when he allowed, his past or his family to get in the way to somehow complicate things.
Defeated, Xander jerkily sat on the cold ground, staring out at the miles of crater before him thinking of them, his family, how they were his Achilles heel.
But it didn't matter now. They were here too. They died sometime that night somewhere in this vast crater since they had refused to listen and evacuate with the rest of the Sunnydale residents. To say his father was stubborn to a fault would be redundant, especially when his decision not to leave their home proved the fatality of the trait. Sadly, it was a trait that Xander recognized within himself, and he couldn't deny it scared him shitless.
He had wanted to hate them, hate them for not being what he wanted or needed as parents, but he couldn't.... not now. Realistically he knew they did the best they could, Anya made him see that. She was the one who had made the effort to try and get to know them, and in her own Anya tried to help them. By leaving brochures, flyers, and magazine articles from everything on: AA meeting, dangers of alcoholism, life ‘before, during and after menopause' reclaiming your sexuality, inner peace, 50 ways to lose weight, the benefits of walking... It was ‘Orgasms for a Better Heart' that forced the issue of him having to move out. Not that he ever told Anya that, but it was embarrassing and he only needed his mother waving the fold out book of ‘Orgasms for Life' an illustrated instruction manual with 1001 positions to achieve a better orgasm once before he started to seriously pack.
Though he had moved out shortly afterwards with Anya on his arm, she had insisted he maintain a connection and build better relationship with his folks that it was what healthy couples did. That when he started going over to his parent's house for dinner. Originally it started out as a once a month deal; it was all he could stand, but within three months they conspired together (his mother and Anya) and had him going once a week. At first it was awkward, but Anya and his mother had worked together to somehow make it work. Then it was just strange acting like an adult. For once he had a full time job, one he loved, and an apartment with rent, bills, a steady girlfriend with regular sex, weekly dinner at his parents then at night fighting evil. It was all good, scary, but good.
Before Anya he had placed his dysfunction family dynamic into a category of alcoholic monsters, basically people he didn't want or feel he needed to deal with. Later with Buffy and discovering, fighting real monsters and true evil, he was forced to face and see the differences between his ‘monster parents' and the real thing. He also started to recognize the wide range of multiple layers of human frailty and their emotions. In the end it was Anya and Spike that really drove it home. Both lived as demons, later Anya as human, Spike stayed a vampire first with a chip, then with a soul. With Anya it was easier----she was his girlfriend with all the perks expected that he received ten fold. What he didn't expect was the complexity of raw human emotions that Anya gave and showed in every aspect from the mundane to the complex of any given situation. It was unnerving, and exhilarating at the same time never knowing what to expect from one moment to the next other than the utter honestly of that given moment.
With Spike, it was altogether different right from the get go.
Spike was a vampire, and like Angel, he had a built in hatred for all vampire.... evildoers of the world. From Xander's viewpoint, blood sucking vampires were to be destroyed no exception---they weren't human, only a shell of human disguise; it was a black and white issue that never wavered in his mind---until Angel and William the bloody entered his life, and tried to contradict the laws of basic physics between good and evil.
Angel, a vampire with a soul; his very existence was a contradiction, and Xander's hatred only increased because of it. Angel knew, there was never any doubt, and what started as a one-sided hatred on Xander's side, reluctantly grew to mutual respect with a major dislike from both sides.
With Spike, it was different. In the beginning it was only fear and hatred. Though maybe from Spike's perspective it was only; he was only, a walking meal, but from the beginning the lines were clearly drawn there was no confusion. Human/vampire, prey/hunter, good/evil; there was no gray areas. Then it all changed as things do in Sunnydale. Spike was chipped in effect a neutered vampire. It'd be funny if Xander didn't have a damn conscious. Spike was still evil to the core, but he was defenseless evil---well defenseless against humans.
His thick venire started to crack when Giles started to have a social life again after Miss Carpenter. Not that Xander blamed him, but he could have gone a lifetime without the getting to know Spike. Like Anya, Spike was unpredictable, excitable, and more often than not honest to the core. When he talked of ripping out entrails once he got the chip out, Xander never doubted it, nor did he doubt Spike human oddities a weirdness at the time he tried not to dwell on. Habits that were more human in nature than a soulless evil vampire Xander thought he should be even within the scope of the chip. At first, Spike was depressed enough to try and stake himself, and Xander had to admit if Willow weren't there he honestly would have just watched until Spike had succeeded. The depression itself was in one word, ‘creepy'. Later once Spike discovered he was able to fight other demons his depression lessened but his strangeness only increased. Beside being an avid soap viewer via Passions, Spike was also a neat freak, ate food with and without his stable blood supplies and when Xander still lived in the basement; too many times to count he would come home only to find his mother, Anya and Spike in the living room chatting away like old friends over a ‘cuppa' a Giles expression that was way too civilized and beyond weird when it came out of Spike's mouth.
Whether he liked it or not Spike and Anya had bonded. Spike was the one person, monster or not, that she was able to discuss in detail all her glory days. Not that he ever listened, but after a bit of the gorier details he'd start to turn green. Once Anya noticed she'd stop, and though she'd try to hide it, he knew she was always a bit disappointed that she'd have to edit certain aspects of her past. With Spike she never had to worry, and he'd egg her on for more descriptive details, and once he got her going---well at least he'd get the benefits of her excitement later that night.
Helpless, Xander stood and watched as Spike over and over contradicted his belief system. First it was Anya, his parents, Dawn, Willow, Tara and then Buffy. By the time Xander had figured out Spike's game everything else became obsolete. It was clear that Spike helping anybody else was nothing more than a strategic chest move toward his ultimate goal-to win Buffy. Even when he was dead wrong, like when Spike brought flowers for Joyce; it was easier to ignore it than be reminded of every instance when Buffy wasn't involved, or straight out deny everything you see. It was harder later when Buffy died, and maybe that's part of why he wanted to bring her back it was easier to deal with unholy magic than to face what he had done, or deal with what had cemented his black and white world.
Anya saw, she knew. She knew him better than he knew himself, and right from the beginning was more than willing to help him, but he didn't, couldn't allow it. Even after all this time he knew that to forgive himself would be to forget-to allow the gray to enter his world. So he hung onto his fears, his prejudices. It wasn't until the end with one that he started to see clearly, to see people, and himself within the gray---to think of Jesse.
Xander knew Jesse was his catalyst. He had killed, dusted Jess.... To think of Jesse or Spike and Angel as anything more than evil soulless monsters than that would mean he had killed a friend a beloved friend like Willow, and just the thought of that killed him inside. So he did the only thing he could do, drew a line in the sand, or rather within his mind and what he killed accidental or not was NOT his best friend Jesse had never been Jesse only a vampire monstrous shell, and it was that shell Xander had killed.
But after being so close to his own death he couldn't deny the truth any longer. He did it, had killed Jesse. It had been an accident not intentional, not that he wanted Jesse to suck on him, nor did he want to die, but fending off his best friend, frankly wasn't working. In the rush of excitement and fear around them; if someone didn't push Jess onto his stake that he was waving about in basic non-threatening way cause Jess wasn't scared for even a minute. Then it happened, and Jesse had this look, a look of wonder, fear, and regret if only half a moment before he was ash; gone within seconds, it happened too fast with no time to think, to grieve. There was no looking back; the line was drawn, vampires were evil soulless beings, end of story.
But that wasn't the end. It was only the beginning. Over and over Xander faced the gray, contractions, and over and over he dug in his heels in determined to keep his black and white view to keep the sand drawn. He ignored, and twisted things when the hyena took possession, blatantly lied to Buffy about Angel, did whatever he could to keep the status quo of his own denial.
Ironically it took losing an eye for him to finally see things clearly. Anya might have been miffed he had taken so long to finally get things through his thick skull, but Anya wasn't coming back not to complain or praise him... nor were his parents; like the town of Sunnydale they were permanently gone.
The sound of footsteps crept closer, smoke filled the air. Long moments later mumbled words followed by a few colorful phrases before asking, "Ready?"
Xander didn't look up, didn't need to see Spike standing there; fidgeting nervous holding two small bouquets of flowers, flowers for Anya, for his mother.
Spike stepped closer and squatted down, "Right then," then leaned over to leave the bouquets by the fence post that surrounded the area.
It was ironic they started as vicious enemies, became reluctant roommates, finally to work and fight evil together.... But it wasn't until much later after he had lost Anya, and Spike had lost Angel that they discovered and forged a friendship. Now he had no illusions, his world, his life was no longer based on a strict code with only shades of black and white, good and evil. No, he lived thrived within the gray.
Xander cut his last ties when he and a few slayers, namely Faith defied Buffy by helping Spike and Angel make their stand against Wolfram and Heart----In the end, like the Hellmouth it was a stalemate. There was no clear winner only death on both sides, each slinking off to their corners to fight another day.
Xander moved to stand only to feel a handclasp under his shoulder holstering him up; it was time. Doors were open five o'clock came and went, and no Anya. He came to do what he never wanted to do to remember and -to say good-bye.
After one last lingering look Xander turned and walked away. No tears, no words; with each forward step his fingers itched to touch their plane tickets; the tickets were like a talisman, a fresh start and a flight away from here.
Spike didn't say another word just automatically fell into step beside a friend; shoulder-to-shoulder they walked on in silence.
FiN~~