I know, I know, shoot me already. I've got this, Sunlight, and a sooper seekrit project I'm working on. Feeling a little skittish about this, it was just a bunny that's been bugging the crap out of me, so I wrote it. Feedback apprecieated.
Title: Kin to Sorrow, Session One
Author:
chocgood84
Paring: S/X eventually
Rating: PG-13 for now
Notes: Xander goes into counseling after the Hellmouth has been destroyed. Spoilers through Chosen.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, don’t sue.
“Okay, Alex. What brings you here?” The doctor crossed his legs, balancing a yellow tablet of note paper on his lap, tapping the pencil lightly against the table beside the leather chair.
“Uh, well, I lived in Sunnydale, and a bunch of people recommended counseling for the…survivors.” Xander twitched nervously on the couch, his hands knotting together and prying apart. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing here. It had just felt like the right thing to do.
“Oh yes, there were very few if I remember correctly?” The tapping stopped, but now the doctor starting bouncing his foot up and down, swinging in the air. He took off his glasses and polished them, brief flash of Giles. But this man wasn’t Giles.
Xander’s gaze dropped to inlaid hardwood floors, rich mahogany – the same as the door and the desk, the window casing. It was almost a year ago, and he still had trouble… remembering.
“Yeah. It was just me and some…friends that got out at the end. A lot of people left before that though; probably weren’t very many people left but us.” Xander rubbed at his eye patch. Pain still came and went, sometimes a searing scalding welt, sometimes a dull rolling headache.
“Is that where you were, uh, injured?” The doctor asked, scribbling at his pad, never taking his eyes off the patient.
“Huh? Oh,” Xander realized he was asking about the patch. “Uh, yes, er, no. Sort of – it’s a long story.”
“Want to talk about it?” The scribbling stopped, the room once more bathed in silence, save for the ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Somewhere in the building an air conditioner kicked on, rumbling and roaring to life.
“Um, well, it’s not really anything. A very bad man liked to have fun and games, and Xander got hurt.” Xander rubbed the patch again, feeling a headache coming.
“Xander?” The man questioned.
“Oh, that’s me. It’s what I used to go by before I moved to L.A.”
“Okay. Well what would you like to talk about?” More notes, scratching away on yellow paper.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been having these, these dreams I guess you’d call them. But, they’re so real. I’ve had some vivid dreams, but these are like it was actually happening.” Xander cringed, gooseflesh popping up all over his body. That face!
“Uh huh, and how often do you have them?” More scratches, uncrossing and recrossing his legs.
“At least once a night.”
“And how long have they been troubling you?”
“They actually started the night before everything happened...in Sunnydale. But at first it was only once a month. Just in the last couple months or so, they’ve upped their dosage. First once every few weeks, then a couple times a week, and now every night. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Uh huh, okay,” more notes. “Care to tell me about them?”
“Well yeah, I guess. That’s why I’m here, I suppose.” Xander laughed nervously at a joke only he understood.
“Uh, well. It always starts the same, it’s the original Scoobies -”
“Scoobies?”
“Oh, that’s what our little group called ourselves. Me, Buffy, Willow, and Giles. Anyway, it starts out the four of us are walking through a graveyard. It’s night, of course. So we’re walking, just goofing off and being us. Giles is whining about being out with a bunch of teenagers and how he needs to find his own group of friends.
“And then somehow, we’re not in the graveyard anymore. It’s – we’re in the Hellmouth, er, that’s what we called our old high school.” Xander shot a nervous look at the doctor, who only nodded and scribbled some more. “Anyway, we’re somehow suddenly there, and that’s the day the down went under. We’re fighting and trying our best just to stay alive, but we’re just not strong enough.” Xander fell silent as he remembered one of those vamps stabbing Buffy, seeing her fall. A tear fell from his good eye, rolling as silent as his memories.
“Uh, so, we’re fighting and losing. But Willow did her magic, and all of a sudden we’re winning. And then the dream transforms again. Everyone else has gotten out, and it’s just me and Spike there. His necklace is glowing, and he’s screaming in pain. He takes my hand, and his skin is so hot. So hot it burns, but I can’t let go. He’s looking at me; he’s crying. There’s light glowing all around him now, and I can tell it’s coming from inside him. There’s light inside him, something burning and so bright.”
Xander fell silent again, as the memory of the dream rocked through him like a flash fire. He couldn’t breath and his bad eye burned with memory, his good one with tears.
“I, I tell him he doesn’t have to, and he shakes his head – can’t leave. I tell, I tell him I love him. He nods, but all he says is : ‘Thank you. Now go, love, get out while you can!’ And I look down, and our hands are on fire. But it doesn’t burn anymore. It feels…right. That light around him gets brighter and brighter, and I can’t see anything.
“And then I’m in my apartment in L.A., getting something out of the refrigerator. All of a sudden, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Before I can turn, I hear a voice. It says ‘Hello, love. Miss me?’ And that’s when I wake up. Always at that part. I know it’s Spike’s voice, but I don’t know how. He…he died with the town.” Never mind telling Doc that it all happened, just that it happened to Buffy. ‘Cept the coming back part.
“Well, what do you think it means, Alex, er, Xander?” Somehow, he had managed to keep up with the notes.
“I, I don’t know. Can’t really get my head around it.” Xander answered truthfully, the tears finally stopping.
The clock chimed, causing them both to jump a little.
“Oh dear, it looks like we’re out of time for this week. Tell you what, Xander. I would like you to think about what this dream could mean over the next week. The next time I see you, I’ll listen to what you think it means, and I’ll tell you what I think it means, and we’ll work from there, alright?” The doctor placed his tablet on the side table. He took his glasses off and set them on top.
“Okay, Doc. Next week, then?” Xander asked, getting up and fishing his keys from his pocket.
“Yes. See you then, Xander,” he said, extending his hand and shaking Xander’s.
Xander made his way out of the office, and for the first time in a long time felt a little better. He hadn’t told anyone about the dream, not even Willow. Maybe the Doc could help him…
Title: Kin to Sorrow, Session One
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Paring: S/X eventually
Rating: PG-13 for now
Notes: Xander goes into counseling after the Hellmouth has been destroyed. Spoilers through Chosen.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, don’t sue.
“Okay, Alex. What brings you here?” The doctor crossed his legs, balancing a yellow tablet of note paper on his lap, tapping the pencil lightly against the table beside the leather chair.
“Uh, well, I lived in Sunnydale, and a bunch of people recommended counseling for the…survivors.” Xander twitched nervously on the couch, his hands knotting together and prying apart. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing here. It had just felt like the right thing to do.
“Oh yes, there were very few if I remember correctly?” The tapping stopped, but now the doctor starting bouncing his foot up and down, swinging in the air. He took off his glasses and polished them, brief flash of Giles. But this man wasn’t Giles.
Xander’s gaze dropped to inlaid hardwood floors, rich mahogany – the same as the door and the desk, the window casing. It was almost a year ago, and he still had trouble… remembering.
“Yeah. It was just me and some…friends that got out at the end. A lot of people left before that though; probably weren’t very many people left but us.” Xander rubbed at his eye patch. Pain still came and went, sometimes a searing scalding welt, sometimes a dull rolling headache.
“Is that where you were, uh, injured?” The doctor asked, scribbling at his pad, never taking his eyes off the patient.
“Huh? Oh,” Xander realized he was asking about the patch. “Uh, yes, er, no. Sort of – it’s a long story.”
“Want to talk about it?” The scribbling stopped, the room once more bathed in silence, save for the ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Somewhere in the building an air conditioner kicked on, rumbling and roaring to life.
“Um, well, it’s not really anything. A very bad man liked to have fun and games, and Xander got hurt.” Xander rubbed the patch again, feeling a headache coming.
“Xander?” The man questioned.
“Oh, that’s me. It’s what I used to go by before I moved to L.A.”
“Okay. Well what would you like to talk about?” More notes, scratching away on yellow paper.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been having these, these dreams I guess you’d call them. But, they’re so real. I’ve had some vivid dreams, but these are like it was actually happening.” Xander cringed, gooseflesh popping up all over his body. That face!
“Uh huh, and how often do you have them?” More scratches, uncrossing and recrossing his legs.
“At least once a night.”
“And how long have they been troubling you?”
“They actually started the night before everything happened...in Sunnydale. But at first it was only once a month. Just in the last couple months or so, they’ve upped their dosage. First once every few weeks, then a couple times a week, and now every night. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Uh huh, okay,” more notes. “Care to tell me about them?”
“Well yeah, I guess. That’s why I’m here, I suppose.” Xander laughed nervously at a joke only he understood.
“Uh, well. It always starts the same, it’s the original Scoobies -”
“Scoobies?”
“Oh, that’s what our little group called ourselves. Me, Buffy, Willow, and Giles. Anyway, it starts out the four of us are walking through a graveyard. It’s night, of course. So we’re walking, just goofing off and being us. Giles is whining about being out with a bunch of teenagers and how he needs to find his own group of friends.
“And then somehow, we’re not in the graveyard anymore. It’s – we’re in the Hellmouth, er, that’s what we called our old high school.” Xander shot a nervous look at the doctor, who only nodded and scribbled some more. “Anyway, we’re somehow suddenly there, and that’s the day the down went under. We’re fighting and trying our best just to stay alive, but we’re just not strong enough.” Xander fell silent as he remembered one of those vamps stabbing Buffy, seeing her fall. A tear fell from his good eye, rolling as silent as his memories.
“Uh, so, we’re fighting and losing. But Willow did her magic, and all of a sudden we’re winning. And then the dream transforms again. Everyone else has gotten out, and it’s just me and Spike there. His necklace is glowing, and he’s screaming in pain. He takes my hand, and his skin is so hot. So hot it burns, but I can’t let go. He’s looking at me; he’s crying. There’s light glowing all around him now, and I can tell it’s coming from inside him. There’s light inside him, something burning and so bright.”
Xander fell silent again, as the memory of the dream rocked through him like a flash fire. He couldn’t breath and his bad eye burned with memory, his good one with tears.
“I, I tell him he doesn’t have to, and he shakes his head – can’t leave. I tell, I tell him I love him. He nods, but all he says is : ‘Thank you. Now go, love, get out while you can!’ And I look down, and our hands are on fire. But it doesn’t burn anymore. It feels…right. That light around him gets brighter and brighter, and I can’t see anything.
“And then I’m in my apartment in L.A., getting something out of the refrigerator. All of a sudden, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Before I can turn, I hear a voice. It says ‘Hello, love. Miss me?’ And that’s when I wake up. Always at that part. I know it’s Spike’s voice, but I don’t know how. He…he died with the town.” Never mind telling Doc that it all happened, just that it happened to Buffy. ‘Cept the coming back part.
“Well, what do you think it means, Alex, er, Xander?” Somehow, he had managed to keep up with the notes.
“I, I don’t know. Can’t really get my head around it.” Xander answered truthfully, the tears finally stopping.
The clock chimed, causing them both to jump a little.
“Oh dear, it looks like we’re out of time for this week. Tell you what, Xander. I would like you to think about what this dream could mean over the next week. The next time I see you, I’ll listen to what you think it means, and I’ll tell you what I think it means, and we’ll work from there, alright?” The doctor placed his tablet on the side table. He took his glasses off and set them on top.
“Okay, Doc. Next week, then?” Xander asked, getting up and fishing his keys from his pocket.
“Yes. See you then, Xander,” he said, extending his hand and shaking Xander’s.
Xander made his way out of the office, and for the first time in a long time felt a little better. He hadn’t told anyone about the dream, not even Willow. Maybe the Doc could help him…
From:
no subject
Can I bribe you for the secret? Let me make you an offer you can't refuse.... LOL
From:
no subject
Hmmm...bribe, eh? Not unless you can get Spike and Xander willing in my bedroom. Or at the very least NB and JM drugged and in my bedroom! *g*
Seekrit should be unveiled in a few weeks. Have patience :)
From:
no subject
Yes, well, remember my little Freudian slip about the crack . . .
From:
no subject
*flails*