Xander's Probs

By Queena

Xander walked into his house trying to remain as quiet as possible. He could hear his parents yelling at each other out on the porch. Maybe if he was deathly quiet, they wouldn't hear him come in.

"I'm not drunk, Sharol! God damn it, don't tell me that!" Xander heard his father yelling. Xander tiptoed past the living room doorway and let out a sigh of relief that his father hadn't seen him. "Alexander! Get in here, boy!" his father yelled after him. Xander cursed under his breath and contemplated making a break for it. Of course, he didn't do it. That would only anger his father even more.

Hanging his head, Xander turned and entered the living room to face his father's anger. As usual, his father was holding a bottle of burbeon, and his shirt unbuttoned with a long liquor stain down the middle of his undershirt made for the quintessetial drunk look. "Do you know what time it is?!" his father demanded, his speech considerably slurred.

Xander looked down at his Tweety Bird watch and answered quickly, "Ten fifty."

"What did I tell you about coming in late from curfew, boy?!" his father asked him, taking a few staggering steps towards him.

"His curfew is eleven, Mike," his mother said with a tired voice. Xander had no doubt that she had already taken her nightly dose of valum.

"Don't second guess me, Sharol. The boy's late if I say he's late," his father said. His mother only closed her eyes and leaned further back in her recliner. "What the matter, Alexandra. Your lingerie party run a little late?" his father asked with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Xander felt his spine steel with pride and lifted his head to look his father head-on. "Well, I'm sorry, but I put on a silk slip that didn't quite fit and had a little trouble getting out of it," Xander said, matching his father's sarcasm. He automatically regretted it when his father's eyes widened in anger.

"Did you hear what your son just said to me, Sharol?!" his father said and turned to his mother.

"Leave him alone, Mike. He was only joking," his mother said sleepily and pulled her legs up on the chair.

His father turned back to Xander, his face red with anger. He began unbuckling his belt and Xander flinched slightly, but didn't move. "Oh, you think your a fucking comedian, boy. Well, I don't think I like your sense of humor." His father managed to get his belt off without falling down first, which Xander thought must be a record.

Xander didn't even see the first blow coming, but he sure as hell felt the buckle of the belt cut into his ribs. "I'll teach ya to talk back to me!" his father yelled before landing another blow across Xander's shoulder and then another across his chest. Xander keeled over so that the blows would hit his back, he still had bruises from the last time on his chest and he didn't want the belt to hit any of them.

"Leave him alone, Mike!" his mother screamed and pushed herself of the chair clumsily. She fell into his father and started tugging at his arm. His father easily pushed her away, knocking her to the ground where she started crying. Xander tried to get around his father to make sure she was okay, but his father quickly blocked his way and started raining blows down on his back. A blow from his father's fist landed sqarely on his back and knocked to his knees.

"Stand up and take it like a man, you little pansy!" his father raged and kicked him the ribs. Xander staggered on his knees and tried not to fall down. When he tried to stand, his father pushed him with his foot and he fell back on his ass. His father staggered back and fell over in his chair. Bringing the bottle of burbeon up to his lips and taking a big swig his father looked at him with disgust. "Get out of here, you worthless little shit!" he spat out at Xander.

Xander ignored him and started to crawl over towards his mother who was still crying on the floor. He wrapped his mother's arm around his shoulder and stood, helping her up to her feet. "Put her high ass to bed. I can stand the sight of neither of ya," his father sniffed as Xander led his mother out of the living room and up the stairs.

When Xander got his mom to her bedroom she fell to the bed in pure exhaustion. When she fell to the bed she dragged Xander down with her, so that he fell right next to her. She cuddled up against him and started to cry her eyes out against his chest. "I'm sorry, Xander," she choked. "I'm sorry I can't protect you from him."

Xander ran a hand through her hair to comfort her. When he thought that she was finally asleep, he started disengaging his limbs from hers, trying to be careful not to wake her, but she gripped his arm. "You love your mom, don't you Xander?" she asked without opening her eyes.

"Of course, I love you, Mom," Xander said with a tired voice. "That's a good boy," his mother said and stroked his cheek lovingly before leaning forward to plant a kiss on his lips. Xander flinched slightly, but she fell back against the bed. She curled into a ball and was out in meer seconds. Xander wiped his lips and stood from the bed. Before turning to leave, he snatched up a bottle of pills from the nightstand and pocketed them.

After he closed the door to his parents room, he looked in the direction of his room, but instead of heading to it, he turned and went down the stairs. When he looked into the living room, he saw he father asleep in the chair, the bottle of burbeon hanging precariously from his hand.

Xander shook his head and headed for the front door. He couldn't stay here tonight. He couldn't lay awake in his bed knowing that either one of them could come in at any time. Demanding things from him. He didn't know where he was going to go, but anywhere would be better than here.

Xander walked around for close to an hour. He knew it was really unsafe, being out after dark in Sunnydale without a Slayer to keep you company. He toyed with the idea of going to Buffy's, but she'd want an explanation and if he gave her that she would just try and go over to his house to beat his dad to a bloody pulp. His dad didn't like him much now, but Xander would be disowned if his father lost a limb to a five foot three, hundred pound teenage girl.

He used to go to Willow's when stuff like this happened. She was the only person who really understood. Since she and him had been friends since childhood she had had to put up with bandaging sprained wrists and holding him while he cried on her bed. But he couldn't go to her anymore, not since what transpired that night in her bedroom. That kiss. That stupid kiss and all of the ones after that. Not that he really regretted it. Not the way he should. He did regret that he had hurt Oz and Cordelia.

Cordelia. Oz had forgiven them, being the kindred spirit that he was, but Cordelia probably never would. Cordelia now threw his home life in his face as a way to hurt him. He should have never told her, never really wanted to, but one night after his mother had come to his room crying about what his father did to her he found himself crawling through Cordelia's bedroom window. It took almost all night, but Cordelia had been able to pry the truth out of him. The shocked and confused look in her eyes when he told her had made him automatically regret telling her, but by then it had been too late. Cordelia would never fully understand what his parents did to him. She had always had a good home life with parents who cared about her and each other. She had tried to comfort him, but now that they were no longer together she would not be there for him no matter how much he needed her.

After those three people there was only one other person in the world that Xander trusted. He just didn't know how much he could trust him. And how could he really go to him after what happened tonight, after the way he had embarrassed himself. All he had meant to do was to comfort him, but he had even found a way to dirty that small innocent act. It had been happening a lot lately, only when they were alone. He tried hard to deny these new feelings, but it just seemed the harder he tried the harder he got. He really couldn't wait until the years of adolesence passed and he was able to control what Lil' Xander did.

Still, he couldn't just wander around until sunrise. Maybe he could go to Faith's. No, that wouldn't work, she'd just use him to get her jollies off and then toss him out in the street again. Besides, he really didn't want to sleep with her again and he doubted she'd want to just talk. No, that definitely wouldn't work.

He could go to Oz's. He knew that Oz was too much of a nice guy to tell him to get lost. Xander didn't think he'd be the same if he were in Oz's shoes. Xander did, however, feel that for some reason Oz had forgiven him too quickly. They talked more now than they did before he and Cordelia had found him and Willow kissing in the factory. They hung together sometimes in the halls, were partners in chem lab and had opted to work together the night Willow and Buffy were almost burnt at the stake. Still, Xander wasn't ready for the questions that would come if he went to Oz and he sure as hell wasn't ready to answer them.
He could go to Angel, knew the ensouled vampire wouldn't turn him away. But it would be just Xander's luck that telling Angel about his home life would give him a great big happy and he lose his soul and make a meal out of Xander. Nah, that would never happen. Angel didn't like Xander, but hearing about his misery wouldn't make him happy. Shit, his sympathy would probably be even more than Oz's. That thought made Xander sick to his stomach. Seeing the pity in his eyes. Fuck that, he rather be vamp food.

He only had two choices. One; he could go back home and risk getting another beat down for sneaking out. Two; he could swallow his pride and go to Giles. His indecision stopped him dead in his tracks. < Go home, go to Giles', go home, go to Giles'. > Shit! Xander hated thinking. It hurt his brain. Xander decided to just walk and he'd go in whatever direction his feet would take him. Subconciously, he knew where he's end up, but he still wasn't ready to admit it. That he knew his feelings had grown stronger and much different. That would be to admit that his father was right about him and he would never in his life do that.

However, twenty minutes later, Xander stood in front of the door to where he had hoped he wouldn't end up. < Damn! Why didn't I just go to Willow? She would understand. Things wouldn't have to be different if I didn't let them be. > Still, Xander's fist rose and without another hesitation, he knocked and waited for the door to be answered.

END
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