Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Xander - Consequences

set in s3's Consequences (spoilers)
TW - mentions of sexual assault
i wrote this cus i didn't like how they treated it in the show

"You went after her, didn't you?"

Xander looks out of it as he comes into the library, his eyes unfocused and his feet dragging. 

"Xander?"

"Huh?" he looks up and our eyes meet. 

I repeat, "You went after Faith, didn't you?"

"Oh. Yeah." He takes a seat at the table. Although I'm the only one sitting at it, he sits three chairs down from me. He rubs a hand down his face.

"You okay, Xan?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just a little beat. Long night."

"You can go home." I shrug, brushing eraser dust from the drawing I'm working on. It's a sketch of the demon that made all the moms go wacky a few weeks back (when they formed MOO and tried to kill their own daughters). The only drawings we have of it are very inaccurate. "I'm only here because I can't sleep."

"I can't either." Xander interjects, "Do you wanna do something?"

I carry on, "There's nothing we can do about Faith now... wait. How did it go? Did you get through to her?"

Xander chews on the inside of this cheek and says a little too enthusiastically, "Not a thing. Buffy was right. Connection? Zero."

There's hurt in his eyes. Buffy shouldn't have told him that Faith doesn't care about the guys she sleeps with. Although it might be true, it was completely uncalled for. I think carefully before I say, "I'm sure you do have a connection. If you really like her..."

"I don't." The way he says it so instantly, so full of spite, it makes me look up. He's gently and rhythmically rubbing his neck - I suppose it must be a nervous thing.

"What did Faith say?"

"She called me a boy toy.  Said I'd never had it so good as... Oh, you mean about... Yeah, she won't admit she killed that guy. She's not the girl that... she's too far gone..."

He smacks his hands down on the table, leaning back on his chair. 

"Xan..."

"Yeah?"

"What's that on your neck?"

Xander's chair smacks the floor and he looks like he's been awoken by a bucket of ice water. He stares at me instead of responding. 

I open my mouth, about to ask again but he replies:

"Faith got a little handsy at the end of our talk."

The sentence itself is quite self-explanatory, but there's something about his demeanour which is telling me that he's hiding something. I study him and he squirms under my hard stare.

The bruise on his neck. The messed up hair. The... lip-gloss on his lips?

In a softer voice I ask, "What happened?"

He blows a raspberry, "Ah, it's fine. In any other context I would have loved being thrown onto a bed by a pretty girl. It just felt a little... I didn't..." he falters, swallowing thickly. "I didn't want her to do that to me."

I nod slowly and Xander cracks his knuckles. I think he expects me to say something, maybe even tell him that he's being dramatic, but I stay quiet as I think he might have more to say.

"She..." he looks at me for approval and I give him a small smile.

"Yeah?"

"She wouldn't tell me anything. And then she went all sexy - but in a bad way. Man, I didn't even know that was possible. She got on..." he gestures vaguely to his chest, before realising that some of his buttons are undone. He buttons them up with jittery hands before resuming. "She got on top of me and started to... you know... but then she started to choke me."

I inhale a sharp breath.

"And she wouldn't stop." he waves his hand in front of his eyes, "My vision blacked around the edges and I couldn't breathe."

"Oh, Xan." My heart is about to beat out of my chest. I have never felt this kind of anger before.

"I thought," he says slowly, his voice breaking at the end (although he tries to cover it with a cough), "What we had was special."

And then he starts to cry. I haven't seen him cry since seventh grade and honestly, it makes me panic. But it doesn't stop me jumping up from my seat and hugging him tight. Instead of hugging me back, he wipes his eyes quickly and starts to apologise.

"It's okay." I tell him and that makes him return the embrace. 

Poor Xander, shaking with sobs that grow in intensity each time I tell him it's okay and I'm here. 

To my surprise, and maybe to his surprise as well, when he's calmed down a little, he talks to me about it. I ask the occasional question, being mindful not to probe and by the end, he's wearing a small smile. 

When Buffy and the rest of the gang arrive, I stand up and clear my throat. But Xander puts his hand on top of mine and the gaze he gives me speaks volumes. So, I let Xander speak, I let him tell them as much as he wants to, and I squeeze his hand while he does it.