Title: The Cane
Author: Paradox761
Email: Paradox761@mail.com
Website: members.tripod.com/~Paradox761
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Buffy, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don’t sue, I don’t have any money anyway.
Summary: While the lives of his friends start to get back on track after Tara’s death and Willow’s decent into darkness, Xander contemplates the one thing that keeps him apart from the people he loves.
Spoilers: “Grave”

He tried to keep it out of sight as much as he could, for her sake. It was a constant reminder to her of what had happened. The consequences of her actions. It was a reminder to him too, but worse than remembering was the look she would get on her face whenever she saw it. Most times it was unavoidable, he needed it to get around after all, he couldn’t hide it all the time.

It was made of ebony, intricately carved to look like a branch that had just come off a tree, with simples and figures carved into it. Animals, people in tribal dress. Giles gave it to him. He said it had been his father’s. That he got it in Africa. Xander didn’t want to accept it at first, but Giles had been very insistent. He even had the rubber tip replaced with a longer one, to compensate for Xander’s height, and had a new rubber grip added to the curved handle. It really was a thing of beauty to look at, and a tremendous gesture from a man that he considered a father to him.

But he hated it. There were times that he couldn’t stand to even look at it. They’d sit on Buffy’s couch, the three of them, watching movies. He would tuck it under the couch, out of sight. And they’d talk, and laugh, and throw popcorn at each other. And for a little while, everything would be normal again, and it was like it had never happened. He would forget. Then he would get up, to go get another soda or something, and the pain would shoot through his leg as soon as he put weight on it. He’d fall back to the couch, his face twisted in pain, biting his lip to keep from crying out. And it all came rushing back, and she would get this look on her face like she had been slapped. The evening would usually end shortly thereafter.

He thinks about that day a lot, about what happened on the bluff. The pain as the magic sliced through his body, shooting from the hands of his best friend. And the pain in his heart, from feeling so powerless to help her. He really was prepared to die that day. He didn’t honestly think that he’d be able to stop her, he just wanted her to know how much he loved her before it was all over. He couldn’t die without telling her. And with every ‘I love you’, every step he took toward her, every bolt of magic that shook his body, he became a little less afraid of death. The pain radiated off of her like heat from a fire, and he wanted nothing more than to let her end it. He had spent most of his life trying to take pain away from her, as much as he could. But he purged the darkness from her soul with his love, without even really knowing what he was doing. He just needed to tell her one more time. He just needed to make sure she knew. They must have sat up on that bluff, crying in each other’s arms, for hours. Xander didn’t even notice when the pain didn’t completely fade away.

There’s nothing that can be done, they said. The bones in his hip joint and upper leg were fused or something. They couldn’t replace the joint, and it would never heal properly. He would have to walk with a cane for the rest of his life. For the rest of his life, he would have this tangible reminder of the day his best friend lost her soul, and nearly ended the world. And as long as he was in her presence, so would she.

Tara’s funeral took place five days after her murder. Her family, having decided that they wanted nothing to do with her in life, decided the same in death. Buffy and Xander made all the arrangements, and Tara was buried in Sunnydale. Three plots away from Joyce, and just a stone’s throw away from Miss Calendar and Jesse. Willow clung to Xander throughout the whole service.

There was almost no discussion about it when Xander moved into the Summers’ house. It just seemed natural for all of them to live together, they were family. Willow cried herself to sleep almost every night in the beginning, with Xander holding her. He’d stroke her back and make soothing noises until she fell asleep, and he’d stay with her all night, in case she had a nightmare, which she often did. In the beginning the cane wasn’t that big a deal, it was the least of all their problems. Giles had a friend in the Watcher’s Council, a therapist. Someone who knew about magic addiction. She agreed to come to Sunnydale to help Willow. Willow was afraid at first, but Xander stood by her side and reassured her. He even sat with her and held her hand through her first few sessions.

Slowly but surely, Willow began to accept certain things. She accepted Tara’s death. She accepted that she wasn’t responsible for it because she couldn’t stop it. She accepted how powerless she was to magic. And she accepted her responsibility in Warren and Rak’s deaths. It was the magic that changed her, that darkened her soul. Without it those things wouldn’t have happened, but that didn’t leave her blameless, she knew that. It was hard, but she was coping with it. Together Giles and the therapist convinced the Watcher’s Council that Willow was getting better, that she had the support of her friends, and that she wasn’t likely to lose control again. The Council agreed, and decided that it was unnecessary to involve any other authorities, as they would be ill equipped to understand the circumstances of what had happened. Slowly but surely, things were returning to normal.

Dawn was back in school, and her grades were up. Things between her and Buffy were better than ever. Gone was the bratty child, and in her place there was a mature young woman. Thanks to Xander’s added income to their little household, Buffy was able to quit at the Doublemeat Palace, and she was at the top of her game slayer-wise. Xander had been given a desk job at the construction company where he worked, since he couldn’t do most of the physical work associated with his old job. He was basically a secretary, filing and answering phones. He hated it, but it paid the bills. They had all reconnected as friends, and it had gone a long way to Buffy feeling like she was alive again. Willow was getting back into computers, helping Buffy with research and keeping her company on patrols just like she used to. Anya was even part of the gang again, running the Magic Box and helping whenever she could. Though things between her and Xander were still strained.

Then there was the cane. It seemed to have powers all it’s own. It could stop conversations by its mere presence. And it could kill one of Willow’s smiles faster than a bullet. It was driving a wedge between them. She tried so hard to pretend that it didn’t bother her, but Xander could see it in her eyes. The man who had saved her life, and the world along with it, was now just a painful reminder of a dark part of her life that she would rather forget. The man who was always there for her, who never left her side, was now a walking talking billboard advertising her loss of control. It killed him, and he hated himself for it. He loved her so much. All his life, he tried to take away her pain. Now he was the sole cause of it. So he kept the cane out of sight as much as he could. And when he couldn’t help it, he just kept himself out of sight.

He drives up to the bluff everyday now, after work. He just sits there on the edge, next to the still exposed peak of the ancient temple, looking out over Sunnydale. He watches the sun set, with the cane sitting across his lap, and he cries. He sobs loudly and violently, staring at the cane with seething hatred. Sometimes it takes every ounce of his will power not to throw it over the edge of the bluff. He hates himself, and he hates his life.

But more than anything, he hates that fucking cane.

~fin~