Fanfiction: Sadness Fades (In Her Arms pt 3)
I’m so happy with Faith. All that stuff she wrote, it makes me happy. It makes me feel…well whole sounds so corny, but it’s the truth. She makes me feel whole.
I told her that I wouldn’t read what she wrote if she didn’t want me to, but she told me to read it. She plopped it down in front of my face near the end of the Three Stooges episode. She told me to read it, so I did and while I did, she climbed onto me and gave me a backrub. She has strong hands.
The backrub lead to other stuff and I’m not sure what to feel or think about it. Most of me is so very happy to have experienced that stuff with her, but there’s a part of me that just fucking scared. We didn’t… we didn’t actually have sex… in the traditional sense. I did that thing where I get all distant and didn’t look at her for awhile.
She was nice and didn’t make me feel bad about it. She said that she understood. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, at least most of me. And it wasn’t that I couldn’t, you know, get hard, ‘cause I did. It’s just… God, this is hard to write. I can’t… I have a hard time letting myself… God. I can’t come. All it ever ends up being is painful.
Faith had to stop… doing what she was doing because I started to cry. That’s not really a turn for a girl on or a self-esteem booster for me. Like I said, she didn’t make me feel bad about it, I made myself feel bad. She just held me. She said that it was okay and that it would all be okay and after that she didn’t say anything, she just held me.
I was supposed to go to see Dr. Leigh today, but I skipped the appointment. You know, when they find me, they’re going to be really mad and I’ll either be on house arrest at Giles’ or I’ll end up in some institution for kids with problems.
But instead of going to Dr. Leigh, Faith and I stayed in and ordered Chinese. It’s about eight now and she’s got to go out and slay bad things. I’d go with her, but she’s doing that tag team slaying thing with Buffy, so not only would I not be welcome, I wouldn’t want to be there.
So I’m writing in your journal again. You’re taking a shower. Don’t worry, I didn’t read anything and I’m not going to. I just want to write to you.
Buffy asked about you. I told her that I hadn’t seen you and she hadn’t believed me. I think maybe we should move out of this motel and move into some other roach infested cheap dwelling. I’ll say something once you get out of the shower. Maybe I’ll just join you. Or maybe not.
Xander, I want you to be happy and I want you to be comfortable with me.
You haven’t told me exactly everything about you and your childhood and that’s okay, you don’t have to. I can guess and I know that it’s kind of like mine. Only it was my step fathers who hurt me and it was your real dad.
Sometimes, I think about it. About what they did and I just can’t function. Do you ever get like that? Do you ever just curl up and pray to whoever is listening to take it all away?
You know, after my step dads fucked me, it was like nothing mattered. I think my mom knew about it but she was too busy passing out to do anything.
I started having sex with anyone who would have sex with me. Friends, my mom’s dealers and fellow junkies, teachers, anyone. I figure for you that it’s just the opposite. Instead of having a lot of sex, you didn’t have any and all your interest sort of dwindled. I promise that I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.
I know that day last week pissed you off. I should have done something when you walked into the library and I should have done something when you walked out. I should have and if I could take it back I would and I’d do it all over. I would have stood up and took your hand and led you over to the table and sat down with you. ‘Cause screw everyone else.
You’re out of the shower now and you look so good with just that towel wrapped around your waist and your hair dripping.
It’s me and you, Xander. We’re good together. We’re good for each other.
I want us to be like this, or something remarkably similar to this, for a long time. I want you to protect me and I want to protect you.
Can we do that?
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