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After what seemed like an eternity but what could only have been a few minutes, Xander sat upright again and looked at what he had written. Never one for expressing his thoughts, he had been amazed to find himself agreeing with Giles’ suggestion to begin keeping a journal, that he would one day find it useful. The Watcher had been right though. In the past, after something like this he would have gone and hit someone, tried to get himself lost in violence without really caring what happened to him.
That violent streak had always frightened Xander, he had watched his parents solve their problems with their fists too many times, and he wasn’t going to end up like that – he couldn’t. And yet, the impulse was there. Perhaps that’s why he had been so willing to become a Scooby, here was a way he could rid of the violence within him while doing good… who was he kidding? It’s not like he was ever really good in a fight!
Only two people knew what he was really like – his best friend his entire life and the woman he had chosen to share everything with. But now, in the space of one night they were both lost to him and nothing seemed to make sense.
Feeling himself slipping back into a fugue state, he gave himself a mental shake and tried to come up with a plan. What could he do to stop what was happening? He felt completely alone now… but he wasn’t! There was still Dawnie and, God help him for even considering it, Spike! He had to get to them before Willow. But how? She had a good head start on him now and he had to think of something.
Standing up so quickly he knocked his chair to the floor, he finally spotted the telephone and made a dive for it. Dialling the number for the Summers house his fingers tripped over themselves and he couldn’t get the right number out. Forcing himself to slow down, to breathe, he finally got the right number punched in and waited forever for the connection. No one answered. Feeling the dread build up in the pit of his stomach, Xander threw down the phone and ran for the door. He had to get there first, he had to.
* * *
It had been agony watching him come to his decision to act, but now that he had she was relieved she hadn’t intervened in any way. If his destiny was to play out, it had to be at his doing. No one else could do this for him. Fading into the background once again, she began to follow him.
* * *
The distance between his apartment and the Summers house had never seemed so long before. Running as if the hounds of hell were right behind him (and, given that this is the Hellmouth, it’s entirely possible that they were!) he kept pushing himself onwards until he was there.
Rivello Street. An attractive, suburban street with immaculate lawns outside immaculate houses. The Summers house was no different – from the outside at least. Nothing seemed out of place at all, which worried him. Whatever it was that had happened to Willow wasn’t going to be satisfied with just killing Anya, surely! After all, the spell hadn’t worked, the Slayer wasn’t back and Willow must be frustrated as hell by that.
Forcing his way into the house seemed a bit off, but there was a sense of urgency there that he couldn’t shake. With the front door locked he had to do his best to break it down, wincing at the pain he felt in his shoulder he managed on the third attempt.
The lights were on downstairs but it didn’t look like anyone was there. Stopping for a minute to catch his breath, Xander strained to hear any sign of life from inside the house but there was nothing. His heart sinking, he made his way into the kitchen expecting at any minute to see the mutilated body of Dawnie alongside a pile of dust. Spike was supposed to be watching her tonight and, despite everything, Xander knew the vampire would be dusted before he let anything happen to Dawnie.
A loud beep made Xander start, giving up on the stealthy approach he barrelled into the kitchen – only to find Spike there! The blonde vampire was taking something out of the microwave, to Xander’s disgust it was a bag of blood – the kind they used in hospitals for transfusions. Spike jumped as Xander entered and dropped the bag. As it hit the floor it split and blood went everywhere.
“Bloody hell, Harris! Next time try sneaking up on a bloke why don’t ya?!”
Xander wasn’t paying any attention, his eyes were fixed firmly on the spreading pool of spilt blood on the kitchen floor.
“Harris? Wakey wakey!” Spike waved his hand in front of the Xander’s eyes, trying to snap him out of it. It worked, a bit too well. Xander grabbed Spike’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Slamming the vamp into the kitchen counter with surprising strength Xander snapped: “Where’s Dawn?”
To be continued ….
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