Grieving

June 1, 2003
1,000 words

Warnings: contains self-harm and a few curses. Written as an answer to Fairfax's "Survivor's guilt challenge" posted on the InnerGeekdom mailing list; the challenge was for Andrew/Xander with Anya, self-harm and a Star Trek reference. Thanks to Kristin for the beta, and to Michelle, Mare, Trixx, and Kaz for the encouragement.

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Xander looked up from his book as he heard the sound of a cracking whip in the room next to his. This wasn't normal. He got out of bed and put his book back on the bedside table. Not that he had been reading it anyway, he just couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept in more than a week now... Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her, standing there with Andrew and...

*Crrrrrrrack!*

It had to stop!

Quickly, he walked to Andrew's room. This really wasn't like him. It sounded like he was...

Xander opened the door swiftly.

...hurting himself with a whip.

"What the hell are you doing?!?!?" Xander yelled as he crossed the room, grabbed the whip and broke the handle, before throwing it away in anger.

"He deserves it."

Xander turned to the girl in the doorway, glaring at the newly-empowered slayer. "You shut the fuck up, Kennedy! No one deserves to beat themselves up with a freakin' whip!" He walked to the door angrily and shut it in the woman's shocked face. If she'd thought he would agree with her on that, then she was very wrong.

Resting his head against the door, Xander took a deep breath before turning back to face Andrew. The young man was still on the floor, kneeling, his hands on his knees, just like when Xander had come in. Though now, there was no whip in his hands and he looked scared.

"What the hell did you think you were doing with that thing?" Xander asked, more calmly, almost caring.

"I... I was..." Andrew stuttered, as he tried to find the right words. "I had to do it." He finally whispered, hiding his face in his hands and moaning as the movement reanimated the pain on his back. That was what he wanted. To be forever reminded of...

"Why?" Xander asked, very gently, as he sat down beside Andrew on the floor and took the young man's hands in his own.

"I..."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Xander continued, his hands running up and down Andrew's arms, in a soothing gesture.

"I should have died." Came the heartfelt whisper.

"What... why?"

"I was prepared to die. She wasn't."

Xander's heart skipped a beat and he looked away. Turning back slowly towards Andrew, he could see the young man's eyes on him, pain and sorrow clearly written on his face.

"Andrew, it's not your fault."

"It is. She saved my life... if she hadn't maybe..." Andrew argued.

Xander shook his head. "No, Andrew... you shouldn't be thinking that... everything that happens does for a reason. If you're here, it's cause you're meant to be and she wasn't." Xander took a deep breath. "She was..." He sniffled, trying to keep the tears from falling. He hadn't cried since... And he wasn't going to start now. "She was... God, I can't do this..." He threw his head back and rested it against the bed. "She was important to me, Andrew, very much." Against his will, tears started to fall quietly down his cheeks. "I loved her..." He wrapped his arms around himself. "God, I loved her so much." And he let himself cry.

As he sobbed, he could feel Andrew's hesitant hand, reaching for him and settling on his arm. No more words were spoken for the longest time as two souls finally grieved. Together.

Xander finally looked up at Andrew's tear soaked face, their tears subsiding. "Never say you didn't deserve to live." He said, his voice hoarse with tears. "She didn't deserve to die, but that doesn't mean you did."

"But I... I did... I killed..."

"You're like... our Seven of Nine." Xander interrupted him. "You did some bad stuff after being brainwashed, but now, you're fighting on the good side. You're part of the crew now, even if it did take us a lot of time to accept you."

"I work for the Federation now, fighting against the evil Borg?" Andrew asked, tears threatening to come back.

Xander's swollen cheeks and reddened eyes lightened up with a smile. "You got it, Captain."

Andrew blushed. "Ah, no, Buffy's like Janeway, so she's the captain."

Xander laughed lightly. "If Buffy's Janeway, then who am I?"

"You're like... Chakotay. Right hand guy to the Captain." Andrew blushed a deeper red, starting to squirm a little; the cuts on his back were itching.

"We should take care of that." Xander said, as he stood up and helped Andrew to his feet.

"It's ok, it'll heal... I mean... it's not like you have to do anything..."

Xander gently caressed Andrew's hand. "Yeah, I think I do." He smiled lightly and cocked his head. "Now, lie down on your bed and I'll go get the first aid kit."

"Aye aye, Captain." Andrew smiled as he laid down on his stomach. His back really did hurt.

Xander came back quickly and started to clean up the wounds carefully, trying to make it hurt as little as possible. Soon, the young man's back was clean and covered with gauze.

"Thank you," Andrew whispered as he turned around and looked at Xander, who was still kneeling beside him.

Xander shrugged. "It's nothing... really."

Andrew smiled sadly. "We should have a sort of ceremony... for Anya. You know, like they did in the second movie when Spock died."

Xander nodded.

"Cause it feels like she just disappeared and everyone's forgotten her and..." Andrew stopped, realizing he probably was talking too much... again.

"We'd honor her memory by doing that." Xander laid down beside the blond and looked into his eyes. "Thank you. It's a very thoughtful idea. Tomorrow, ok? We should sleep."

Andrew smiled and nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow. We could have flowers and maybe a dove. You think she'd like it if we'd have a dove?"

Xander nodded and watched Andrew close his eyes. Not thinking twice, he reached and gently kissed the young man's lips. "Good night, Andrew." He said before giving in to sleep.

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