TITLE: Sleep's Images (X) 2/5 (REV)
SERIES: Knight Consort Chapter 5
AUTHOR: Don Bentley
E-MAIL: dbentley@albedo.net
SUMMARY: Xander's role in the final battle with Glory, and in Buffy's death, begins to take its toll.
RATING: PG13
TIMELINE: Ten days or so after "The Gift."
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask first.
SPOILERS: Season 5 up to and including "The Gift."
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer" are the property of Joss Whedon, et al.  This is non-profit fun.

NOTE:  Thanks to Dave and Slashcat for their usual fine beta reading endeavours on the first version of this story, and to Meg for her outstanding work on the rewrite.  

*****

Xander lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and watching the shadows play across its dappled surface.  Turning his head, he looked at Anya curled up against him, her free arm draped across his chest.  He frowned at the fading bruises and the last of her bandages; the legacy of her part in their battle with Glory.

Rolling over slightly into her sleepy embrace, he reveled in the familiar strawberry fragrance of her sha--

--brick dust--

--mpoo.  With a loving smile, he reached over to brush a lock of her light brown hair down and over the bandage taped above her eye--

--a hand, filthy, torn, and bruised, reached down to Anya's unmoving form.  Fighting the fear that racked his body, Xander felt the side of her neck for a pulse.

Nothing.

He reached over and checked the other side.

Nothing.

With frantic care, he swept the debris off of her.  A prayer on his lips- his first in more years than he can remember- he bent over, pressing his ear to her breast.  The chaos and cacophony about them forgotten as his world contracted with choking speed.

Nothing.

Jaw thrust.  Finger sweep through the mouth.  Listen for breath sounds.

Nothing.

Biting back the urge to vomit, he pushed down on her chest.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.  

Pinching her nose shut, he breathed into her mouth once, then watched and listened for chest movement and air flow.  Her chest fell, and he felt more than heard the exhalation.

His prayer abandoned, he shouted at her, demanded, and pleaded with her.  

Begged her to live.   

Nothing.

Five more compressions.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.

One breath.

Listen.

Nothing.  

Five more compressions.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.

One breath.

Listen.

Nothing.  

Then, at last, faint at first then gaining strength, he heard,

"We commend our sister Anya to His"--

--Xander shot up in bed, his scream choked off in his throat and his heart pounding.  He was drenched in sweat that ran down his body like blood.  

His only coherent thought, ANYA!

She lay still beside him.
 
Still held in terror's grip, Xander clawed his way out of the entangling sheets and fell back out of their bed.  Not taking his eyes off Anya for an instant, he crawled frantically back across the floor until brought up short by the wall.

Finally, and after an eternity of grief, she sighed and rolled over.

Xander dropped his head into his hands, and sobbed silently in the darkness.

*****

"Sleep is the image of death."  
English proverb

******

Part 1

All this semester, Tuesday mornings had meant a late start to Tara's school day.  Her first class of the day wasn't until after lunch.  That it corresponded with a similar class free morning for Willow had been the result of much comparison and negotiations over classes and time slots.  Tuesday morning's break had been a last resort after Friday afternoon and Monday mornings both proved impossible to achieve as, characteristically, neither woman had been prepared to completely sacrifice their academic plans on the altar of the college student's traditional informal extension of the weekend.  Both were wholeheartedly in favour of some quality together time, however, and Tuesday mornings had done the trick quite nicely, thank you very much.

Today though, Tara was at loose ends.  When Giles had decided to limit attendance at the custody hearings, they had all agreed that that was the right thing to do for Dawn's sake.  That he actually meant it, and was prepared to enforce his decision to allow only Willow along for emotional support, resulted in a display of 'Watcheritis' as Xander called it.  Tara thought that this commanding presence was very attractive on Giles, very Shakespearean.  She could certainly understood Willow's schoolgirl crush.

So it was that at mid morning, Tara was frankly loitering at the Magic Box while waiting for Willow and the others to get back with news of how the first hearing had gone.

"Tara?"

"Hmm?" she looked up from her Russian history text to find Anya leaning against the table beside her, absently picking at the bandage about her hand.

"Would you want to have sex with me?" Anya asked.

At a complete loss for words for a very long second or so, Tara sat there, blinked, and hoped that her mouth wasn't hanging open.

"Uh, well.  M-m-monogamous," she stuttered helplessly.  "Very happily monogamous.  With Willow.  I'm in love with Willow-"

"Relax," insisted Anya before Tara could founder any further.  "I'm not hitting on you.  This is hypothetical."

"Oh," Tara relaxed slightly, then her face clouded briefly.  "You're not?  I mean.  If I didn't know Willow, and you weren't living with Xander-"

"And were gay."

"And were gay," Tara sighed and smiled apologetically.  "Probably not."

"No," Anya's face fell.

"But not because-," Tara hastened to reassure Anya.  She thought furiously for a moment, desperate to avoid making the situation worse, but wanting to be supportive of her friend.  "Because there's no way I'd be able to work up the nerve to talk to you.  And you need to talk and learn stuff before you could sleep with someone."

"Not always," Anya said matter of factly, as she turned her gaze down towards the floor.

"For me, always," Tara declared.  She leaned over, trying to catch Anya's eye.  "Anya?  Is something wrong?  Anything bothering you?"

"No!" she professed with an airy wave.  "Just curious.  Never mind.  Drop it."

Tara waited, but Anya showed no sign of moving away from the table.

"Anya?"

"Hmm?"  

"Still hypothetical, okay?"

"Okay," Anya nodded.  "Hypothetical is okay."

"I would want to.  To try and talk to you," Tara was relieved to see Anya look up at her.  "To learn stuff."

This brought the first smile Tara had seen on Anya's face that day.

"Anya?"

"Yeah?"

"How's Xander?  I haven't seen him much since the- since Buffy's funeral."

"Oh, he's fine.  More than fine.  He's all virile and fit.  Barely get a wink of sleep with the boy.  Just go, go, go."  Anya's subdued body language was at odds with the forced cheerfulness of her words.

"Sounds... fun," Tara hazarded lamely.  Anya's usual forthright style where her sex life was concerned always discomforted her.

"It sure is," Anya answered absently, and with that she stood and turned back to the counter.

"Anya?"

Anya paused, but didn't turn around.

"You know that you can talk to me," Tara said, her voice warm and caring.  "About stuff.  And I won't think you're hitting on me, or anything.  We're friends.  Okay?"

Anya flashed a weak smile over her shoulder.  "Thanks.  I'll....  Later?"

"Later," promised Tara.

*****

It was almost sundown by the time Giles had herded the young women to the table, though he still had to wait impatiently until they were settled before starting his briefing.  Well, he waited until they were seated.  He clearly didn't have anything like the kind of time that would be needed to get them settled.

Anya had secured a chair with a view of both the front door and the door to the back room and was obviously, and impatiently, waiting for the uncharacteristically late Xander.  

Since the morning's hearing with its promise of a decision very soon, Dawn had been starting to show some signs of her usual animation.  Certainly having at least the promise of a stable future among her friends here in her hometown had proven to be something of a tonic, and while he was unhappy with all of the implications of membership, she had clearly earned the right to attend the meetings.  Thus, he put up with her fidgeting with a Gutian fertility charm while waiting for him to start.

Willow had taken her place beside Tara on the small bench both women habitually shared.  After having come dangerously close to losing Tara to Glory, Willow had, in the days since the battle, been showering Tara with as much physical affection as she could get away with.  At time, Giles had noted, Willow had come very close to violating any number of provisions of California's public decency statues, not to mention his own ingrained English sense of decorum.

"Willow, stop it," Tara whispered as she pushed her girlfriend's hands back into her own lap.  "We're embarrassing Mister Giles."   

"No, we're not," Willow insisted, though she did leave her hands in her lap.  "Are we, Giles?"

"N-no, of course not," Giles replied automatically.  "Now, if I could have everyone's attention."

After a long moment, Giles stifled a sigh, and went on, talking mostly to Willow and Tara, as Anya and Dawn remained cocooned in their private thoughts.  He had to suppress a smile as Tara reached over and slipped her hand back into Willow's grasp.

"Yes, well.  This Friday is the Feast of-"

"Where the bloody 'ell is Harris?"  Spike stormed in from the back room and, with an impressive flourish of his leather duster, jumped up and took his usual perch half way up the sliding staircase to the loft.

"Hello, Spike," Giles greeted the vampire, resignation in his voice.

"Was supposed to meet me at the old Ketcham plant, an' help me wipe out a nest of vamp tossers that moved in last week.  Effing cheek," he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and shoved them back into the folds of his jacket when he saw Giles' reaction.  His expression brightened as he produced a flask in compensation.  "Cheers."

"And he didn't show?" Giles asked, beginning to worry about the younger man.

"Beat me to it, the wanker.  Oh, sorry, Niblet, didn't see you there," Spike saluted Dawn with the flask before seeming to think better of it.  He closed it up and slipped it away.  "By the time I was able to get there it was already in flames.  Found two of them- well, the dusty bits anyway.  The rest were probably inside.  Harris knew I was looking forward to it.  Selfish, that was it is.  Bloody selfish."

"Where's Xander now?" asked Anya, having heard little outside of Spike's use of his name.

"That's what I asked," Spike shot back.  "Weren't paying attention, were we?"

Anya abruptly left her seat, grabbing her coat and purse she headed for the front door.

"Anya!" Giles called after her.  "Wait!  I don't want you out alone after...."

Ignoring him, she left the store.

"...dark," Giles ended lamely.

Seeing the worried expression on Giles' face, and knowing full well the dangers that Sunnydale posed for the unwary, even at the best of times, Dawn turned to Spike.  "Spike?"

"Bit?"

She nodded towards the door, and said, "please?"

"I'm not her nanny, send..." Spike's annoyed expression melted as he looked at Dawn, then with a resigned shrug, he vaulted the railing and stalked out of the store.

"Thank you, Dawn," Giles said, relishing the now Spike-free environment before trying to return to the topic at hand.  "As I was saying Friday is the annual...." he paused, lost in thought for a moment.  "Now that I think of it, I haven't seen much of Xander since...  since Buffy's....."

"Giles?" Willow asked, her voice tender and caring as Giles trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

"I-I'm sorry," he said, waving off further expressions of concern with a characteristic tug at his glasses.  "Uh, Willow?"

"Uh uh.  Last time was, what?  Friday," Willow answered with a shake of her head, and a frown.  "Said that he was taking some time off work to step up patrols, but I haven't spoken to him much either."

"I got the impression that Anya hasn't seen much of him herself," added Tara.  "At least, in any serious relationshippy type way."

"Really?" asked Dawn.  The fertility charm forgotten on the table, her interest piqued now that the topic of the conversation had returned to Xander.

"Down girl," said Willow, with a smile and a wink.  She exchanged a glance with Giles, both relieved to see some sign of the bright, vibrant Dawn.

"I can come around tomorrow after class," suggested Tara.  "She seemed to want to talk about it earlier, but, well, it's not always easy to do."

"Good.  Thank you, Tara," Giles said.  "I'll drop around at the apartment tomorrow as well.  See how he's doing."

"Careful," cautioned Willow.  "You know how he is with man-to-man talks."

"Yes, he might as well be British," Giles paused and shot a questioning glance at Dawn, who nodded her approval.

"Well, since the preparations for the Feast of Adara will have to wait another night.  Dawn and I have a proposition we would like to put to you two."

*****

Part 2

--'BUFFY!'

Xander ran across the Master's grotto, sliding to his knees beside her.  She was soaking wet, her hair matted against her face, as he checked for a pulse, then breath sounds, before starting CPR.  

Her eyes opened with a start and she looked at him.

'Don't bother.  I'm never going to love you.'--

--'BACK FIEND!'

Xander pushed the cross at the vampire, fighting hard to ignore the stolen face of his best friend.

Her hand caught his arm in a vice-like grip above the wrist and twisted; the cross falling from nerveless fingers.  Xander tried not to shout out as he felt his bones break and grind together, as he fought to stay on his feet against the waves of pain.

The demon that had once been Willow twisted his head aside, and sank her fangs into his throat.  Before blackness engulfed him he heard her speak inside his head.

'You were never there for me.'--

--'CORDELIA!'

He dropped the six feet, landing beside his girlfriend, only to slip and fall to his knees on the slick concrete.  There was blood everywhere, too much blood, and Cordelia lay at an unnatural angle, her head bent too far to one side.

He touched her neck in time to feel her final heartbeat.

'This is all your fault.'--

--'Joyce...'

He touched the coffin lightly, reverently, his eyes moist with tears.

'Oh, for God's sake, stop your blubbering.  It's not like you were my real son or anything.'--

--'I'm sorry.  Please forgive me,' he reached down to mask the girl's eyes, his dagger poised over her throat.

'Do it!'

Startled by the harsh command, Xander looked up to see Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, and Joyce looking down at him.  They were all dead, all very much dead.  While Willow leered at him through the horrible and bloody rictus of her vampire 'game face', the others were in various stages of decomposition, their putrefying flesh hanging about them, indistinguishable from the rags of their rotten clothing.  Cordelia's head laid limp across one shoulder.

'Kill her, Xander,' *Willow*  commanded.  'If you want us to live, you'll have to kill the little bitch.'

'That's it,' Joyce's corpse coaxed him.  'Cut her throat!  That's all, honey.  Just bleed her, and we're yours-' cold damp breath washed over his ear as she bent over and whispered- "Just like you always wanted."

The thing that had once Cordelia ran a hand over his cheek.  'We need you to do this, Xander.  One little *thrust*-' she grasped his wrist in a frigid dank grip- 'and we're free."

'Free to be the women you always wanted us to be,' Buffy promised as she hooked a finger into the collar of her blouse and pulled, popping buttons and tearing the fabric.  "Wouldn't that be nice, Xander."

Xander looked away, looked down at Dawn as she lay before him, whimpering pitifully, her body shaking with fear.

'She isn't real,' he thought as he laid the dagger across her throat.  'She's not a real person.  Just a thing.  Something created by those monks, and stuck inside our heads just to fuck us up.'

--"You're not real!"--

'Aren't you?'

'Xander!  No.'

A hand took his, pulling the knife from his hand.  Anya knelt before him.  She was badly beaten, bruised and bloody, but he heard the love in her voice, and felt it in her touch.

'Don't do this, Xander-'

'So you're the one who stole my Key?' from behind him something moved into his field of vision, and a slim hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled.

--"Xander?"--

"NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!  YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!"

He struck out savagely, catching Glory square in the face--

--only to see Anya fall to the floor of their living room, his fist still in mid swing.

*****

Part 3

Willow smiled as Tara climbed into bed behind her and snuggled up close, spooning her under the sheets.  Lying still, she let out a soft moan as Tara's free arm snaked over her ribs to start caressing her belly with slow, languorous circles.  

"Hey, you're still awake." Tara whispered as Willow's belly rippled sensuously beneath her fingertips.

Willow rolled over and kissed Tara.  "Been known to happen."

"Not often enough," replied Tara after a kiss of her own.

Willow caressed Tara's cheek, her expression one of sadness and fear.  "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry.  I never meant to neglect you.  Ever.  I-"

"Shhhh," Tara whispered as she silenced Willow with a fingertip to her lips and a kiss.  "Don't.  I shouldn't have said that."

"But-"

"No 'buts'," Tara insisted.  "Willow, I love all the extra kissage and snugglage, and I *really* love all the sex, but you don't have to make anything up to me.  Not any more.  Not ever.  'Kay?"

"I don't?" asked Willow tentatively, as she slid a single fingertip up Tara's inner thigh, and under her panties.

Willow's reward was a tremour up Tara's spine, a hungry look in her eyes, and a sly crooked smile.  "Well, if it makes you feel better...."  

"Just this once?" Willow prompted.

"Just this once," Tara surrendered, falling back in the pillows, a hand coiling around Willow's neck, and pulling her down towards parted thighs.

"Vixen!" Willow smiled back as she bent down, luxuriating in Tara's scent, but before she could do more than tease her girlfriend with the lightest of kisses, the phone rang.

"Shit!"

"Tara!"

"Leave it, babe," Tara begged as Willow leaned over her, reaching for the phone.

"Okay," Willow readily acquiesced, and turned back to Tara, only to be softly pushed away.

"Could be important," Tara suggested ruefully.  "Giles.  Oh!  Or maybe Xander."

"Xander!" Willow reacted swiftly at Tara's suggestion, reaching over and snaring the phone by the cord, reeled it in, speaking urgently before she even had it to her head.  "Hello?  Xander?  Xan-  Anya?"

Willow shot Tara a look of disappointed reproof before focusing back on the phone.

"Anya, it's late-  What?  Anya?  ANYA!  Calm down...  What?  What happened?"  Willow was silent as she listened for a moment.  "Goddess!  Are you all right?"

While Willow tried to calm down Anya long enough to get some answers out of her, Tara rolled out from under her and started to get dressed, pausing long enough to toss a top and a pair of jeans at Willow.

"Anya?  ANYA!  We'll be right there.  Listen to me.  Tara and I are leaving right now.  Stay there and wait for us.  Please.  Promise me....  Promise me!  Okay.  We're on our way."

Tara shot Willow a questioning look as she waited for her to finish getting dressed.

"Xander's left.  Stormed out of the apartment, and Anya's terrified that something's happened to him."

*****

Willow gently closed Anya and Xander's bedroom door behind her.

"How is she?"

"Giles!  Thank God, you're here," she greeted him with a tight hug before rejoining Tara at the kitchen table.

"She's asleep now," Willow picked up her cup and immediately set it aside, forgotten, and looked at Giles.  "God, she's exhausted.  I don't think she's been sleeping right for days now.  Xander either, apparently."

Willow glanced at Tara.  "We'll take her to the walk-in clinic in the morning to be sure, but I-"

"Walk-in clinic?" Giles interrupted, as he took a seat.  "Willow, what's wrong?  What happened to Anya?"

"Tara?"  Willow avoided Giles' gaze.

"I couldn't," Tara confessed.  "I thought you should tell him."

"One of you bloody well tell me!" Giles insisted, his voice hard and cold.

Willow sighed then looked up at Giles and said.  "Xander hit Anya-"

"WHAT!"  Giles exploded, then, with a guilty glance at the closed bedroom door, continued in a harsh whisper.  "How is she?  If he-"

"Giles!" Willow interrupted him in turn.  "He didn't mean it!  It was an accident!"

"'An accident!'  He hit her!  He hit her and you just said that Anya needs medical attention.  How is that an accident?"  Giles rose to his feet.

It was his tone of voice, low, measured, and perversely controlled, that signaled the burning rage roiling within.  Tara, who had not yet seen for herself just how dangerous the Watcher could be, pushed back from the table, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at the man.

"Giles-"  Willow pushed herself in front of him.

"Willow, Xander-" he hissed the words, barely keeping his anger in check as he tried to slip round Willow and head out the door.  He was going to go looking, go hunting, and God help the bastard when he found him.

She stepped in closer to block his move even before he made it.  Holding his eyes with hers, her voice every bit as dangerous, she whispered.  "DON'T YOU DARE!  Don't you dare tell me you actually think that Xander - XANDER! - would deliberately harm Anya.&nbbsp; That he could do something like that to any of us.  You try and tell me that, Rupert, and I swear by the Goddess...."

The two contested for a long moment, neither taking their eyes of the other.  Giles felt his anger abate as he looked down at the young woman.  His doubt remained; he'd seen too much in his time not to doubt even Xander....

But Willow?  

He looked at the small woman who held him at bay.  Her own anger barely restrained as she defended her friend.

No, never Willow.  Willow's trust in Xander, as with her love, was total, and he had earned it a thousand times over.

Giles sat heavily in his chair, doubt now predominant within his heart, his confusion plain on his face.  Willow retook hers and reached across the table to take Giles' hand in hers.

"Anyone else, maybe, but not Xander.  Giles, Xander could never-"

"Willow," Giles interrupted.  "I've known men who-"

"Not Xander," Willow repeated.  "He could never do something like that.  You have to trust me, Giles.  I know Xander, better than anyone else, and he couldn't hurt Anya.  Not deliberately.  Not like this."

"He'd die first," whispered Anya from the doorway to her bedroom.  Her words were delivered in a small voice that was sad and loving at the same time.

*****

The next morning Willow and Anya visited the walk-in clinic.  Willow had been right.  Anya had not been seriously hurt, just a bruise to her cheek and a black eye.  The doctor who examined her could see that she had recently been assaulted, and on top of the bruises and cuts left over from Anya's part in the final battle with Glory.  Concerned, she had tried to get Anya to talk about it with her, but without success.

Willow took Anya back to her dorm room, and insisted that she get some sleep, though it took her promise that the others were looking for Xander before Anya would agree to rest on the bed for a minute or two.  She slept for several hours, under Willow's constant and worried watch.

It was just after three when Willow and Anya joined Giles and Tara at the Magic Box.

Willow led the unusually passive Anya to a chair at the table, as Giles fetched a cup of tea that was destined to cool untouched before her.

"I rang his parents," said Giles, a look of disgust on his face, as the other three conferred quietly at the counter.  "They have no idea where he is, and even less inclination to find out."

"It's not like he had that many favourite haunts," said Willow.  "Here, Buffy's house, our dorm rooms, and we've checked them out."

"We even stopped by the old library this morning, but nothing," added Tara.

"The library?" asked Willow in surprise.

"Yeah," Tara answered.  "Told me once how much he liked it there.  Mostly 'causa you guys and all."

"It seldom showed," groused Giles automatically.

"You probably couldn't see it on account of how he kept making you go all stiff upper lippy," retorted Willow with a faint fond smile that earned her one in reply.

"No doubt.  Yes, well, the standard drill seems in order," motioning for the two to follow him, Giles turned back and took a seat with Anya at the table.

"Anya," Giles said gently.  "I need you to go over everything for me.  When you noticed that Xander's behaviour was uncharacteristic, anything that he said, or did, anything that may explain what's going on.  Do you think that you are up to it?"

"I'll try," Giles had to lean forward to catch her whisper.

"Good, that's all we ask.  Now, just start with the first thing that comes to mind, never mind about the order, we'll sort that out."

"Okay.  Ahh, things were fine until- until Saturday, I guess.  He'd been tired from the extra patrolling, but nothing serious, and he did take some time off work.  He didn't want to, I had to ask him to.  He was afraid I'd get mad at him," she sighed and managed to look even more downcast than before.  "He means more to me than money does.  Really!  Maybe if I'd.....  Maybe if I'd told him that more often he wouldn't have left me."

"Anya?"  Willow knelt down beside her.  "Look at me.  Xander didn't leave because of anything you did.  Okay?  He left because of what he did to you."

"But I startled him-"

"Anya, no, you were worried about him, what you did was understandable," seeing that Giles was confused, and that Anya had retreated back into her shell, Willow sighed and stood behind Anya, her hands on Anya's shoulders.

"She was in bed waiting for him to come home," Willow explained to Giles.  Tara had heard the story the night before.  "It was after eleven thirty when she heard him come in.  Anya waited for him to come to bed and after a little while- when he didn't- she went out to see what he was doing."

At this Anya stirred, and took up the story.  "Xander was on his knees in the middle of the living room, bent over, hunched over something that wasn't there.  He was reaching out, feeling for something- I don't know what.  I said his name and touched him on the shoulder.

"He shouted something.  I'm not sure what, something about not doing something.  Someone was making him do something, making him take someone-  Ooh!  'Her.'  That's what he said, 'can't have her.'  Then he... he swung his hand back and, a-and I... I fell,"  though her voice remained calm, even cold as she recited the story, tears started to run down her cheeks.

"When I looked up at him, he was standing over me, reaching down to help me up.  B-but I was in shock, scared- I yelled at him and... and I tried to push him away," her voice broke at that point and it took her a moment or two to find it again.  "I-I yelled at him.  Told him to stay away.  Told him not to t-touch me."

Anya shook her head, and wiped at her tears with her hand.

"Xander was more scared than I was, I think.  He, he looked like a little boy, all scared, and hurt, and... and all alone.  And I was screaming at him!  He just stood there, looking at his hand for a minute then he ran out the door.  I scared him away-"

"No, Anya, listen please.  You didn't scare him away.  He was already scared and he ran because of what he had done.  What he did to you.  It wasn't anything that you did.  Please believe me," Willow pleaded.  She then seemed to come to a decision, and after chasing Tara and Giles away with a glance, took a chair beside Anya and slid in close.

"Anya.  Xander loves you," Willow whispered.  "He's in love with you.  He tells me so.  Remember?  Remember how he tell me everything?"

Anya nodded slowly, unsure, but Willow had her attention.

"Well, Xander wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you.  He loves you very much, Anya, and he.....  Anya, Xander wants to marry you.  He's bought an engagement ring-"

"You know?" Anya exclaimed.

"You know?" echoed Willow.  "When?"

"The night of the battle," Anya said.  "We were downstairs having- looking for the Daggon sphere.  He told you?"  Anya's eye's narrowed and her voice grew flat as she stared at Willow anew.

"I was there when he bought it," Willow hastened to explain, hoping to pre-empt Anya's long standing jealousy towards her and her relationship with Xander.

"I'm his best man," she added proudly.

"Xander does love me, doesn't he?" Anya asked, mollified.

"Yes, he does, Anya.  Very much."

"I love him too.  You know that.  Right?"

"Anya, everybody knows that you love Xander.  Even people who don't know you can tell that you love him."

This drew a small laugh.  Giles and Tara were heartened by the sound, even though they had heard nothing of the exchange, though Tara had her suspicions.

"I do."

"And so do I, and Tara, and Giles.  Though not in the same way," another chuckle.  "We're going to help you, Anya.  Help you both."

"So why is he- what was he doing?  Is he hurt, or sick, or...."

"I don't know yet," admitted Willow.  "This hasn't been a good year for us so far, but it's been real hard on Xander."

"He really misses Joyce, and Buffy.  And he's been having-" Anya looked at Willow, her voice dropping even lower.  "His dreams have been getting worse, I think.  They seemed okay before, back when he was patrolling with Buffy, but last week, especially after the funeral, I had to shake him awake a couple of times."

"Anya.  I think that we're going to have to tell the others about Xander's dreams, about soldier guy.  Is that okay?"

"You think we should?"

"They need to know what we know," Willow said.  "We won't mention the ring though.  I don't want to ruin the surprise when you two announce it to the others, alright?"

"Alright," admitted Anya.  Then, in a hesitant voice she added, "Willow?"

"Yeah?"

"I... I'm," she foundered for a moment.  "I am glad that he has friends.  That you're... you know.  Even if it pisses me off sometimes-" after a beat, she confessed- "a lot of the time, actually."

"Yeah, well, me too, Anya.  Me too," Willow nodded towards Tara and Giles.  "Ready?"

"Ready."

*****

"'Her'?" repeated Giles quietly.  "Doesn't exactly narrow it down, I'm afraid.  Except to exclude Spike and myself."

All were seated around the table, including the newly arrived Dawn.  She had rushed to the shop after school anxious for news.  She would have skipped school altogether except that she knew that neither Xander nor Giles would have approved.

"Anya?" Tara said tentatively, an apologetic smile directed at Anya.  "I mean, she is the most obvious, isn't she?  And you were injured in the fight."

"Yes, Anya is the most obvious," answered Giles.  "And while he is in love with you certainly, you were all there.  Buffy...."

Giles swallowed and reflectively tugged at his glasses for a moment.  

"And you, Tara, you were badly hurt," he said once he had brought his emotions under control.  "Willow, the battle took its toll on you as well.  And Dawn, as the object of Glory's desires, you were in the greatest danger, and you were wounded as well."

Tossing his glasses onto the small pile of papers and books that littered the table, Giles rose and started to pace.

"And let's not forget how important Joyce was to Xander.  The fact is that Xander has no shortage of important women in his life.  All of whom provoke very strong protective feelings in him.  He could have been trying to protect any of you while in this dream state of his, and it explains the violence of his reaction to your touch Anya.  Frankly, I would expect nothing less from him were he acting in defence of any of you."

"But he's had these 'waking dreams' before, and he wasn't violent," objected Willow, who went on to rebut her own statement.  "But those weren't his own dreams, were they?"

"If we can be sure that he was having a Xander dream and not a soldier guy dream," added Tara.

"God help Ethan Rayne next time we meet.  If I had any idea of what he had done to Xander...."  Giles trailed off, and slumped back into his chair.

"I think that he was probably himself, well, himself in the dream," offered Willow.  "He was upset by the soldier guy dreams, but he was getting used to them.  'Detached' he called it.  He could tell that they weren't real, weren't his, most of the time now, and that helped a lot."

"Until last week he hardly woke up from them any more," added Anya.  "And he would calm down once I held him for a bit."

"Oh, so probably not a soldier guy dream then," agreed Tara.  "So if it's not magical then, maybe post traumatic stress disorder?"

"Well, that would fit," said Giles.  "This started after the battle with Glory and Buffy's...."

He could barely think the word, and saying it aloud still seemed a betrayal of her memory.  Willow leaned over and slid a comforting arm around his shoulder, hugged him tightly.  Giles smiled his thanks and patted her hand gently.

"No," exclaimed Anya.  "Saturday really.  The dreams were a bit worse after the battle and the funeral, but he would still calm right down when I held him.  Saturday was when he stopped sleeping right, and when he stopped wanting to have sex.  He just stopping touching me."

"What happened on Saturday?" asked Dawn.

"I don't know," Anya confessed.  "Nothing I saw.  I was here at work, and he was out all day.  And when he came in at sundown, he just changed, and left on patrol without a word.  I thought that he was just preoccupied."

"Dawn, get on the computer and check the newspaper for Saturday.  Friday and Saturday, actually.  Take a look for anything... odd," Giles finished lamely.  Dawn's face brightened with pride at being included in Giles' plan, though it quickly faded as the gravity of the situation reasserted itself.  Tara slid her chair over beside Dawn's the two started a whispered conference as Dawn started to tap away at the laptop.

Willow left her chair and started to pace.

"'Can't make me!  Can't have her'," she said quietly, mostly to herself.

"Sorry?" asked Giles, thinking she had spoken to him.

"'Can't make me'," Willow ignored Giles and kept up her conversation with herself.  "Do what?  With whom?  Joyce?  Buffy?  They were already 'taken'.  Us?  Take us?-" she shook her head in frustration- "no!  None of us were taken away from him-"

"Hey, they tore the tower down on Saturday!  Paper said it was a communications tower damaged in the earthquake," reported Dawn.  "Good.  I'd've given anything to push the plunger... though it's probably a button now-a-days."

The force of Willow's realization was almost physical, stopping her in mid stride.  Out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw Giles' face as the same thought lanced through his mind.

The tower.

Constructed by Glory's minions, it had stood poised above the rift between the dimensions.  Since the Key... since Dawn, needed to be above the rift, needed to be bled from above.  Remove the tower, bring it and Dawn down, and the rift to Glory's hell dimension would vanish unopened.  The wrecking ball?  Did Xander think about destroying the tower with Dawn still on it?  Did he try?

"Oh my God," Willow prayed.

Dawn looked up from the laptop screen to find Willow and Giles looking at her.  Their faces pale, stricken with grief.

"What?"

*****

Part 4

"Xander?"

Anya had hoped that he'd be there when she got back home.  That Xander would be in the apartment waiting for her as if nothing had happened.  It was a vain hope, she knew that, but the silence that greeted her still tore at her heart.

She had insisted on coming up alone.  She didn't need a babysitter, she had said to Willow and Tara as they parted in front of the apartment building.  Then she apologized for being such a pain in the ass.

The small pile of papers on the counter in the kitchen caught her eye, mainly due to the folded piece of paper propped up beside it.  Picking it up, Anya saw the small jewellery box against which the note had been leaning, a credit card receipt folded beneath it.  

Anya didn't really need to read the letter.  Though she did anyway, praying as she did that she was wrong.  Knowing that for her, at least, prayers are never answered.

Well, just the one time.

Moments later, Willow and Tara found her slumped on the floor, sobbing, the letter crumpled in her hand.

"Anya,

I have no right to ask you to forgive me for what I have done.  I've heard the excuses too many times before, and they were lies when my father told them.  I made so many promises growing up, and in a single moment I threw them all away.

I've left almost everything in your name.  Bank account, car, some stocks and bonds that Uncle Rory has given me over the years. I've broken the lease.  Leave Sunnydale.  Go somewhere safe, as far away as possible.  Tell the others to leave before it takes everything away from them too.  Tell Willow, and make her promise to take Tara and leave.  Tell them all that I love them, and know that I love you.

I just don't deserve your love.

I failed you.  Forget me.

Alexander LaVelle Harris, Junior."

(End)


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