Work Text:
Gradual Belief
by Scorpio
Xander adjusted the grip he had on the small rounded hammer and continued to pound out the dings to his Uncle Rory's Bel Air that he'd gotten when he had run over the Jhe Demon while saving Faith's life and grimaced. For a while now, he had been trying hard not to think about how easy it had been for him to avoid going to the Library after school with his friends for a post battle run-down and review session. Granted, he hadn't been there for the big Hellmouthy battle, but they didn't even *try* to convince him to join them. They hadn't made any effort to make him feel included or...wanted. When he had offered up a clumsy and vague excuse to go home alone, they had actually seemed relieved that he wouldn't be around. Instead of saying, 'no please stay Xander because we need you', he had stoically endured a brief mini lecture on staying inside away from danger and then he was shooed away like a little kid. And that had hurt.
Xander shifted down a bit and began to gently bang out another dent. The echoing hollow sound of the metal oddly matched pace to his swirling thoughts as he replayed that tense conversation with Willow and Buffy again and again. The more he considered it, the more he realized just how tired of this treatment he's become. This constant pushing away that his friends are doing is not something new and unusual. It's been there for a while now. In fact, it's been there since the whole mess with Willow came to a dramatic conclusion during their capture by Spike.
Xander shifted over again and continued to bang dents and to think.
He and Willow had kissed. Willow was forgiven and he was ostracized. Buffy, when push came to shove, had already proven that she would take Willow's side in the debacle. Cordelia hated him, Oz barely tolerated him and Giles saw him as nothing more than an undisciplined and annoying child. This new thing where they all sent him away 'for his own good' was just a new album cover on an old record playing the same old 'we don't want Xander around' song. It seemed much more caring and a hell of a lot less petty. Bitterly, Xander wondered if that's why they came up with it,...to make themselves feel better about pushing him away. If they had a *good* reason then they didn't make themselves, and Willow in particular, feel like a hypocrite.
Of course, they didn't stop to think...or possibly they didn't care, that this new reason to shove him into the background made it pretty blatantly clear that they saw him as useless and incompetent and distracting. It didn't matter that he had proved himself over and over again. It didn't matter that it was *his* choice to risk himself for them. It didn't matter that that he had saved each of their lives at one point in time. They didn't want him around anymore and this was the reason that they were slapping on it for convenience sake.
His hammer stopped banging against metal as he realized something. He had spent so much time and energy these last few years trying to prove himself to them, to impress them and to be useful and helpful and make himself needed and it didn't work. Their opinion of him couldn't be lower. They saw him as petty, incompetent and a liability. And they had proved without a shadow of a doubt that they *didn't* need him.
A ripple of anger washed over him. They damn *Hellmouth* had opened and instead of asking him to help, or even accepting his offer that was freely given, they firmly but gently shoved him aside and then patronized him for not being there. He'd faced the Hellmouth opening before. He'd ragged a reluctant and trembling Angel down to the Master's lair when the vampire had wanted to hide. He'd faced Spike and Drusilla and Angelus. He'd witnessed death and horror and pain and fear without running away. Yet they decided for him this time and refused to even *tell* him about it. He'd offered his help to all of them, together and separately, and they had all given him a superior look and shooed him off as if he were a cute but annoying little kid.
They had no clue, or maybe they just didn't care. He had been so tempted to tell them about his excitement with Jack O'Toole and his gang of zombies that had planned to blow up the school. He had survived their attempts to kill him, faced down an undead enemy and stood up for himself in the face of a ticking bomb. He had saved Faith's life and defended his own. Pride and adrenaline had pumped through him in equal measures until he realized just how much his friends had kept from him.
The *Hellmouth* had been under attack!
Pride and excitement had turned to ash in his guts and all he felt was hurt, anger and betrayal. He vowed then and there that they would never know just how close to destruction that they had come. Oh, a part of him wanted to get all snide and snarky by informing them in no uncertain terms just what he had done...and all without their help or assistance, but he just didn't care enough to do that. He doubted that they would have believed him anyway. He could easily envision them smiling a tolerant smile of patent disbelief as they patted him on his head and rolled their eyes while muttering about his need for approval and attention. So, he had clamed up and just nodded his head and kept the knowledge of how close they came to disaster to himself.
With a smirk that was more of a grimace, Xander stood up and walked around to the back of the Bel Air and knelt down by the dings that he'd put there by backing into Jack's car. He ran his fingers along the dents to try and see how he'd have to bang those out as well when he realized something; he *hadn't* needed them.
What he'd snapped off at Larry earlier today in the student lounge had been true. He hadn't needed his friends to dig him out of supernatural trouble. Okay, so Oz-wolf had eaten Jack, but that was *after* Xander had played a game of chicken with the zombie that involved a bomb and certain death. And *Jack* had been the one to back down and defuse the bomb. He had killed two of those zombies all by himself and had faced two of the Jhe Demons...saving Faith from one and feeding a zombie to another. All without any help.
He, Xander Harris: the useless and incompetent Zeppo, had done all of that by himself.
Glowing with the same wash of pride he had felt before his friends had proven the depth of their betrayal, Xander reached down and around with his hammer and began to bang out the first of the dents.
By the time he'd reached the third and final dent, Xander's smug feeling of satisfaction began to ebb and his mind began whirling again. He couldn't help but think back on his talk with Larry when this idea had first began to form in his head. And that, of course, led to other and more difficult thoughts. Thoughts of Faith and sex and fulfillment. He could still hear the echoes of Larry's voice as he asked if Xander had enjoyed sex with her.
Frowning, Xander considered this seriously, which was something that he had often tried not to do. Still, all this deep thought and self analysis was what Larry had suggested he do and so far it was going okay. Not exactly the way he *wished*, but it was sort of a comfort not to be deluding himself into thinking that his friends liked him as much as he liked them. And this was a big part of it...at least, according to Larry.
So, Faith. He'd had sex with her which had been completely unexpected and unasked for. Not that he hadn't thought about it, but...he had to admit that he never once would have considered that those daydreams might come true. Faith had never been anything but rude and derisive to him. Cold. She put up with his presence because he was a part of the group, not because she liked him or admired him or respected him. Not that he hadn't tried to be her friend, but Faith's world revolved around Buffy and danger and he had only ever been on the very edge of her awareness. Then she had dragged him into her motel room, stripped him down and rode him hard before putting him away wet.
But did he enjoy it? That's what Larry had asked. And, okay...yeah. He had. Sort of. Then again, he was a guy and what guy *wouldn't* like something tight and hot and wet wrapped around his dick and making all sorts of lovely friction things happen? Not too many, Xander would guess. So...beyond that, did Xander enjoy having sex with Faith?
For a long moment, Xander stopped banging with his hammer as he thought back to that time in her motel room and remembered everything that happened. Finally, he had to conclude that, no; he *didn't* like it. It *had* been a let down from all the locker room hype. Faith had been rough and crude and cold...distant from what was happening between them. He could have been anyone with any face and she wouldn't have cared. It was just the fact that he had a penis that had been important to her and once she'd gotten what she'd wanted she had tossed him out into the street. She hadn't even given him the chance to put on his clothing. He had been forced to quickly get dressed in the damn parking lot so that she could enjoy her shower in private. And hadn't *that* been a painful slap to the old ego.
Still, did that mean that Xander had really wished that Faith had been a guy...or that he really wished that she had been more emotionally involved, more intimate? He wasn't sure.
Adjusting his grip on his hammer, Xander began to bang out the last of the dents again and considered the other thing that Larry had mentioned. Even now, with no one around and no one able to hear his private thoughts, Xander blushed. Because, yeah, Xander *had* found certain guys attractive in the past. He wasn't sure how Larry had known that, but he had. Xander had gotten better at hiding it and ignoring it, but it *was* there. That little voice that pointed out beautiful eyes, long legs and soft curves also tended to point out broad shoulders, rippling muscles and tight firm asses. He'd even accidentally commented on it a few times in the presence of his friends. Those instances were the times that he was glad that they generally ignored him or that it was only Willow there to hear.
The last of the dents were banged out and Xander ran the fingers of his hammer-free hand along the metal to feel for more just in case as he let his mind drift back over the few times he'd somehow let it slip that he found some guy to be attractive. Those times were usually followed by him doing something spectacularly stupid to 'prove' how much he was into females.
He'd told Willow that Angel was hot and then turned around and began hitting on Buffy, obsessed with winning her away from the dark and broody vampire. When Larry had come out to him as being gay and first encouraged Xander to do the same he had immediately turned around and blackmailed Amy into doing that stupid love spell.
Of course, there was also Larry's theory about why he'd suddenly found Willow so attractive. Xander wondered for the first time if maybe he could be right. Was he trying to sabotage his relationship with Cordelia out of some subconscious need to get out of it? And what was up with him having the lusties over Willow anyway? He'd known about her crush on him for years...ever since Junior High, in fact. He'd either ignored it completely or turned her down gently every time. The very thought of being with Willow *that* way had always left him cold and then suddenly, *bam*, he wanted her. Was it because he was jealous of the time that she spent with Oz and not him? The lure of the forbidden? Or the hidden need to escape Cordelia combined with the bone-deep belief that Willow would forgive him?
Sighing, Xander figured that he didn't know the reason for it and probably never would. Standing up, he began the walk back to the house where he could put his hammer away. He needed a shower and some dinner.
Yanking open the door and stepping through, Xander figured that he might still be confused about the whole Willow thing, but he had made some decisions. First of all, he really needed to expand his circle of friends a bit. He needed some perspective and time away from them. They didn't want him around anyway and to be honest, he wasn't very happy with them at the moment anyway. They had no faith in him and his abilities and he refused to try and push himself on them when he was, in essence, unwanted. After all, what was the point of trying to impress people who had already made up their minds about him?
Secondly, he had to admit, if only to himself that he *did* find guys to be...attractive. Sexy. Not all of them, but...some of them. Larry was wrong about one thing though, Xander did like girls. That wasn't some sham or cover. He found girls to be beautiful and attractive and sexy. So...not gay, but then again...not exactly straight either. Maybe he was bisexual?
Jogging up the stairs and turning down the hall to his bedroom, Xander turned that thought over in his mind. Bisexual. Attracted sexually to both males and females. Somehow, that idea felt right...and Xander smiled.
END: Gradual Belief
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