Xander stared at his companion. "I swear," he slurred, the drinks he'd been drowning himself in affecting his speech. "He's hurting her. He hurts her and it makes me want to hurt him, because she deserves so much more." He turned slightly, waving at the bartender. "Can I have a drink? My friend here too, he's the best listener! Get him a drink. Whatever he wants!"

The bartender's eyebrow rose and he shrugged, going to make the drinks for Xander and his friend.

Xander turned back to his companion. "I would kill him if I could, but he used to be a Marine. I can't. He would slit my throat or something. Marines do that, you know, I've seen Riley attack many a demon like that." Xander sighed and put his head on the bar, slamming his forehead into the smooth wood. "I love her. My god, I love her so much, and she's married. To a bastard. Who hurts her. I know that he does. I was abused, I know what you go through, what you see." He sighed, then his tears started to fall.

Willow rushed in the bar and over to the bartender. "You called my house?" she said softly. "Said there was a. . ." She turned, hearing the sobbing at the end of the bar. "Xander!" she cried, rushing through the bar to reach him.

Xander's head came up at her call and his whole face lit up. "Wills!" he exclaimed, jumping off his stool, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Willow Rosenberg, so good to see you!"

Willow ignored the maiden name and wrapped her arms around his waist. He leaned against her, his arm around her shoulders. He turned the two of them to his companion. "This. . .this is her. This is the woman I'm in love with."

Willow blinked and looked up at him, shocked. She wondered sometimes if he still had feelings for her, but *in love*. . .she looked away and silently wished she'd never met Mark Baker. She'd always thought that she'd end up with Xander, and now she was with a prick of a guy who couldn't treat her right.

But she'd never tell her friends that.

"Mr. Coat Rack," Xander said, extending his hand to point out his 'companion' of the night, the coat rack at the end of the bar. "Mr. Rack is very smart, Willow. You would like him, I think. He listens to me, and doesn't say I'm being stupid when I say things that Buffy thinks is stupid." He turned to Willow. "Willow, does that bastard hurt you?"

Willow stared up at Xander, fear racing through her veins. She'd *never* let anyone know when Mark came home angry about something and took it out on her. He always said he was sorry afterwards, and it would never happen again, and she'd forgive him, claiming it was just stress. But inside, keeping the secret, and the growing fear of her husband going on a rampage, was eating her up.

She forced a chuckle to escape her lips. "That's. . .that's crazy, Xander. What makes you think he hurts me? He doesn't hurt me."

Xander looked at her sadly. "You are starting to act like mom did at the beginning," he whispered.

Willow paled, remembering how flipped out Mrs. Harris was every time she went to Xander's house. She didn't want to become like that, a drunken bitter woman who hated her kid and her husband. However, she *knew* that her body wouldn't be able to handle the abuse if anyone found out about Mark. "No, Xander, of course he doesn't. That's. . .that's silly."

Xander's eyes filled with tears and he angrily brushed them away, pulling out of her arms. "Yea, and how many times did I lie to you growing up? 'Xander, did they hurt you?' 'No,' I'd say, while you taped up my cuts. 'Xander, did your father bruise your ribs?' 'No,' I'd say, while you wrapped my ribs." He spun around, grabbing the bar for support. "Guess what, Willow!" he roared. "It was all a fucking lie! Every goddamn word! I lied to you the entire time we were kids! My dad was a fucking bastard! He beat the *shit* out of me, and pushed my face in the pillow and fucking did things to me that I didn't like! And yet. . .I lied. Just like I know you are now." He stormed out of the bar, walking into the night.

Willow wiped her tears away, sliding money over to the bartender. "Thanks for calling me," she whispered softly, before turning and running outside after Xander.

He was standing by her car, bent over, emptying his stomach on ground. Willow made her way to him and rubbed the back of his neck soothingly, trying to get his body to stop shivering. After a moment, he stood up, wobbling on his feet. "I. . .don't feel so good."

"Come on, let's get you home. You are staying at my house tonight, because I don't think you need to be alone."

He shook his head. "No," he whispered. "Mark hates me, he doesn't want me there."

"Mark doesn't hate you," Willow said softly, doubting the words as she spoke them. "He will be fine with you staying there. He lets his friends crash at the house when they get too drunk." She chewed her bottom lip and hoped that if he lashed out at her, he would wait till the next day when Xander was gone.

"Alrighty then, if you say so," Xander murmured sleepily.

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