FanFiction Archive

Wishing You Were Here

Xander made his way into the hospital, having long since
memorized the way to his destination. Room 271, bed A was the
current home of his best friend, Willow. WIllow, the person who had
stood by him through everything, through junior high, and Jesse
dying, the discovery that there were vampires and monsters. Willow,
the smartest and kindest person that he'd ever met, was in the
hospital. He visited her at least once a week, sometimes more,
telling her about what had been happening. About how Buffy had
vanished after going to confront Angelus, how Giles had been
recalled to England to talk to the Watchers council.

He just wished that Willow would wake up. It hurt to see her
laying there, her skin so pale and almost waxy looking from not
being in the sunlight. She was so still, never moving. It was a
harsh contrast to the smiling Willow in his memories, always moving,
walking, talking, little fidgety movements of her fingers, playing
with her hair... Her eyes were closed, masking the bright sparkle
of questions in her eyes.

Now, it was almost Christmas, and she was still in her coma.
She had been trying to restore Angel's soul. He had no idea if the
coma was from the spell, or the vampires that had attacked the
library, kidnapping Giles, killing Kendra, and toppling a bookcase
over onto Willow, who had been in the middle of her spell. They had
taken her to the hospital, and that horrible troll of a principal
had seen Kendra's body and accused Buffy of murder. He'd gone to
the hospital, terrified at Willow's injury, afraid that he would
loose his closest friend.

How could he face Christmas without her? Things wouldn't be
the same without her there. Who would he do the Snoopy dance for?
Who would sit there, sipping hot cider and over analyze the holiday
songs? It wouldn't be the same without Willow wondering just how
eight reindeer, a sleigh loaded with toys, and a large fat man in a
red velvet suit didn't go crashing through the rooftops when they
tried to land. Who would ask what games the reindeer played?

"Willow... I miss you more than words can say. I just wish...
I wish you were here for Christmas. Really here, not just laying in
a bed. This isn't you, you're all questions and life, and too many
thoughts. How do we go on without you?" His voice was filled with
pain and sorrow.

Xander wiped a tear from his cheek. "I'd give anything to
have you back with us. It's just... there's been so many changes.
Buffy's gone, and Giles got recalled. Bright side is that there's
been no sign of Angelus or Spike and Dru, and of course,the world
didn't get sucked into hell... at least, Cordy said it didn't. I'm
not so sure. Life without you... it's not so good. Cordy and I
have gotten a lot closer... I know I've been telling you about it,
but I don't know if any of it got through. The doctor keeps saying
that you can't hear me, that you don't know if anyone's here or not,
can't hear people talking to you. But I have to keep visiting, keep
talking to you. It makes a difference."

He shook his head, trying to understand some of the recent
events. "I hope that you'd be okay with me and Cordelia. I know we
were never friends with her before, but... I guess you can't help
who you fall for. I think, I mean, I hope that this could be real.
On the topic of love, I... oh, I wish I didn't have to tell you
this, but Oz left. His band got an offer in LA, and they left. I
don't know how he could go away when you need him more now than
ever."

He kept talking for hours, telling Willow everything that had
been going on over the past week. He talked about the sports teams
that he followed, part of him hoping that Willow would open her
eyes, would ask him about one of her odd science fiction shows that
she loved so much. He'd been watching them, just for her. He told
her about that week's X-Files, how Scully had tried to explain away
a precognitive's abilities. He told her about the recent movie
advertisements, and about a couple new books that he'd seen the last
time Cordelia had taken him along for a shopping trip, how they'd
made him think of her.

Finally, his voice hoarse and cracking from all the words that
he'd poured forth, in an effort to cling to his friend, to call her
back from wherever she had gone, he stopped. He placed a Christmas
card on the table beside her, one that he'd carefully chosen for
her, almost hearing her annual protest 'But Xander, I'm Jewish. We
don't celebrate Christmas, remember?' as he put it down. He and
Cordelia had both signed it, and Cordy had found a small pot of
poinsettias for Willow, wrapped in sparkling gold foil, tied with a
dark green bow.

"Please... if there's a God. Let Willow come back to us."
Tears glittering in his lashes, he stood up, leaving the hospital.
He'd stayed very late today, and it was well after dark now. Maybe
he could go out and kill a few vampires to try to ease the pain of
Willow being there, and not there. He didn't notice the tall figure
wrapped in a dark coat that stood in the hall.

Xander hadn't noticed when it got dark, hadn't noticed the
door open silently. He hadn't seen the pale skinned figure peek
inside, then slip back away, to wait down the hall, inhumanly
sensitive ears listening to every word. After Xander had gone away,
the person drew closer, slipping into the room. In one hand, he
clutched a wreath made of freshly cut pine branches, twisted
together earlier that night.

He came closer, looking at the young woman on the bed. She
was asleep, always asleep. He felt drawn to her, uncertain why, but
unable to deny the pull that she had for him. The faintest spark of
memory tried to whisper a name, tried to tell him that this woman
was someone that he had known long ago, Before the terrible place.
All he knew was that she was beautiful, and that he wanted her to be
safe. After a moments pause while he tried to remember a blessing
to offer her, he hung the pine wreath on the door, and slipped back
out of the room. It was probably best that she didn't know he
visited her, didn't know that he looked upon her sleeping face. She
looked so peaceful, so sweet.

He was not peaceful, nor could he be kind. Hadn't he spent
such a long and horrible time in the pits of Hell? Even they had
not wanted him, and eventually, he had ben returned. He had felt
her pull then, a sweet beckoning that soothed his anguished
memories. He still couldn't remember who he had once been, or how
he had known her, but he knew that she was a good person, that she
needed to be protected.

The nameless man only wished that she would wake up.

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