Chapter Eight

Buffy punched him once she’d dragged him out of the factory and into the sunlight, and it made him fall on his broken arm, and for a moment, he’d nearly passed out. But he shook off the darkness and made it back to his feet, fighting vertigo and still trying to get back inside the factory. But she grabbed him again, and he went down to his knees again, and they were both shouting at each other.

“Damn it, Buffy, we could stop them, they’re vulnerable, right now! We can’t just let them-”

“Xander, will you just shut up! It’s not worth it!”

And then he saw that she was crying, and it stopped him.

“God, Xander,” she screamed, through her tears, “I can’t lose you! *I can’t lose you!*”

And then, suddenly, all he could do was fall into her arms, and they clutched each other like they might die if they let go, and they cried in each other’s arms, for all they’d lost, and all they could still lose.

Once they’d finally cried all they could cry, they stood up, and walked away in complete silence... but Buffy didn’t let go of his hand until the nurse at the ER gently led her away so that the doctor could set his arm.

He stayed mostly wordless through the whole procedure, only speaking when spoken to, and then in listless one or two word replies. The doctors had treated him like a child abuse victim, which was fine by him, whatever. He’d gone through that spiel with social services workers enough times before to know by rote all the answers necessary to get out as fast as possible.

So, he got through all that, and came out on the other side with a cast and sling and a sample packet of fairly potent painkillers. They hadn’t even noticed the small scab on his side. It probably wouldn’t even leave a scar. And yet...

He brushed a fingertip lightly over the spot again, for what had to be the twentieth time, as he and Buffy walked out of the ER. She glanced at him, and he knew that she had noticed, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she just reached out and laid her hand on his good arm, and moved to stand a bit closer as they stood on the curb and watched Cordelia’s cross and garlic adorned car pull up.

Buffy got the door for him, and gestured for him to get in ahead of her. He was too tired to protest the chivalry treatment, and the pain meds were kicking in, filling him with the usual expected dizzy sleepiness. He slumped in the front passenger’s side seat and fumbled with the seat belt until Cordelia sighed and reach across him, pulling it on herself.

“Jeez, Xander, what are you on?”

“Vicodin,” he said.

“Oh, ok then,” she said. “Where to?”

“My place,” Buffy said. “Mom’s probably gone in to the gallery by now. Did Willow go to school?”

“Yeah,” Cordy said as she guided the car away from the curb. “So did Oz. They said something about telling Snyder that Giles is on some emergency trip to Alaska.”

“Hmm...” Buffy said. “Creative.”

Xander slumped against the door and shut his eyes, tuning out the girl’s voices. Alaska. Right. Sure. He was in Alaska.

In his mind, he saw a flash of dead green eyes, and heard Giles’s voice whispering horrible truths in his ear.

He jolted awake suddenly, just as Buffy said, “Thanks for waiting for us, Cordy. Don’t know how my Mom would have reacted to me calling her in the middle of a school day to pick us up from the ER.”

“He’s not in Alaska. He’s dead,” Xander said, turning his head to see Buffy leaning between the two front seats. She looked over at him.

“I know that,” she said.

“Do you?” he asked, looking at her, hard, searching her face, and her eyes. He could still see tear tracks on her cheeks, and faint red marks where the bruise left by Giles’s hand was fading.

“Of course I do, Xander. I saw him myself.”

“You have to *know,* Buffy. You really, really have to know. Because if you don’t, he’ll kill you.”

She stared at him, and he watched as the emotion played across her face: Shock at his bold statement. A brief flash of that Slayer rage that always lurked beneath the surface. Pain. And then, finally, just quiet pensiveness. He reached across his chest with his free hand and gently closed it around her own hand, which was resting on the top of the seat near his shoulder. Then, they just looked into each other’s eyes.

“Ok, we’re here,” Cordy said, breaking the moment. “Look, I’ve really got to get to school, so if you guys are gonna live and all, I’m gonna be going.”

For a moment, neither of them broke their eye contact. Then, Buffy seemed to shake herself, and she turned towards Cordelia.

“Right. Sure. Thanks, Cordy.”

Buffy climbed out of the car, and opened his door, helping him out as well.

“Bye!” Cordy called, just before Buffy pushed the door shut, and then she pulled away from the curb and drove off. Buffy laid her hand on his arm to guide him towards the door, and it felt shocking small and fragile. He glanced over at her, and realized for the first time in ages how small she really was, and, with a force, the thought hit him that they were just a bunch of kids. Teenagers. The fate of the entire planet may well rest in the hands of five seventeen-year-olds.

Buffy unlocked her door and he stepped inside the house, allowing her to shepherd him onto the living room couch.

“Need anything?” she asked, “I guess I could do the food thing, if you’re interested.”

He shook his head and lay down, feeling the muzziness of the drugs again.

“Nah,” he said, softly, “Think I’ll just, you know, pass out for awhile.”

“Ok. Sounds... relaxing. I just might jump on the bandwagon there, and join you.”

“Buff,” he said, as his eyes drifted shut almost of their own accord.

“Yeah?” she said, and he felt her hand again, gently brushing his hair back.

He kept his eyes comfortably shut as he spoke.

“I trust you, ok? I just--I’m scared. And. I really don’t want... you know, to lose anyone else.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“It isn’t fair,” he said, and he meant to say more, but at that moment, even breathing seemed like a lot of work.

“I know,” Buffy said again, and just before he drifted off, he felt her lips brushing a single, soft kiss across his forehead. “Sleep now. Just... get better.”

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