Chapter Text
“Do me a favor and grab me another beer from the fridge.”
Those words from his father were the first thing Xander heard when he walked into the house that night. He had been out for a long study, but mostly hangout, session with Willow and Jesse.
“Hi Dad.”
It wasn’t much more than a mumble caught up in the sigh that passed his lips. Despite spending the entire day with friends after classes his father made no further comment to the late arrival. Likewise there wasn’t any surprise in Xander at the lack of greeting. His book bag dropped with a thud against the hard floor of the entryway while he started pulling off his shoes. Unlike one of his best friends, who would never do something so improper, he kept his sneakers tied just tight enough they would stay on but just loose enough he could slip them off without untying them. Any extra time he had to spend right here wasn’t worth it. In fact he had walked her home from Jesse’s just to put this off.
Before Xander could make it past his father’s recliner into the kitchen the man was holding his empty pint glass out expectantly. He had picked it up from his side table it over the top of the rim with his five fingers and had the bottom tipped slightly towards his son. He didn’t take his gaze from the TV as the teenager took the proffered glass and passed beside the recliner. It was only a few more steps before he was out of the living room. His mother’s figure met him when he stepped into the room that was always his first destination coming home.
She was pouring herself a glass at the counter from a half full bottle. He had taken to calling the standard 25oz bottle “single serving” since the pair seemed to think recorking a bottle of wine was sacrilege. Only thing they would deem to call worse would be throwing it out unfinished. He responded to his mother’s pleasantries while preparing his father’s drink. Not the least of those responses, was halfheartedly waving off a glass of the red when she offered.
He was more focused on getting the head just right on his pour. Line up the flow so that it brushes the edge of the glass to prevent too much foam and at just the right time pull it away from the edge letting the stream go straight in. He grimaced a bit at the glass he had straightened from a tilt while pouring. There was a bit too much.
He set both glass and bottle down resigning himself to have to wait a bit before he could drain the last of the amber into its new container. So he turned to his mother and actually started to pay attention to what she said. Tonight had been par for the course, apparently. Nothing monumental had happened either better or worse than normal. Most of what she talked about were coworkers’ antics at the office or frustrations she had with managers today. She had a book and was heading to bed soon enough. He decided to try his luck again after a few minutes and pour the last of the beer into the pint. The white raised up dangerously over the rim but didn’t spill over which had him thankful that he avoided the resulting sticky glass and hand.
“You should have just taken a sip to lower the liquid level. That’s what I would do.” He ignored the comment to take the glass back out into the other room. His mom shrugged off the dismissal before emptying the bottle into her glass, grabbing her book and disappearing in the other direction, up the stairs and down the hall towards bed.
Xander barely registered his father’s mumbled thanks while he checked the empties on the side table. There were multiple cans and a few of the long neck bottles. Same kind as the one he had just poured from. Still there was no sign of anything but beer so that probably meant he would be able to sleep tonight. Xander took the extra bottle he had brought out and set it down on the table before picking up as many of the empty ones he could reasonably take. His father always wanted two, one for now, one for later. By now he knew to just do it without being asked.
He walked back into the kitchen with the knowledge that his father wouldn’t be moving from that chair till morning. He was sure his mother knew it too and that she was content to be alone in the bedroom that was hers in everything but name. That chair was where his father always spent his evenings. Sometimes there were occasions that a family friend was over or that his dad decided he wanted to cook. Usually they overlapped to show just how great of a husband he was. Otherwise this was the routine.
The next morning he woke up to the obnoxious blaring of his alarm. He lay there for a moment staring at the unremarkable ceiling. It would have been nice to sleep more. With effort he flipped his body onto the side and slapped the top of his alarm clock. He hadn’t bothered to close the blinds last night, so his room, in all it’s messy glory, was lit up in the early Californian sunlight. He pulled himself up despite wanting nothing more than to lay in bed all day. For a moment he considered putting some effort into his appearance today. Laziness and apathy ended up winning that battle. He grabed yesterday’s pants from the floor, an undershirt that looked reasonably clean and a button up from on top of the pile of clean clothes he still hadn’t put away. His hair did with a brush through from his free hand while he took care of his dents. As annoying as the routine was his mother had shown him pictures of that cousin of hers who’s teeth rotted out of his head. The teeth that were still in there looked like swiss cheese.That image really sticks with a kid so regardless of the crap he was going through he always made the time to at least brush.
Thankfully his father was already gone for the day by the time Xander was down the stairs. He tuned out the details on the news from the TV that his mom was listening to while he pulled cereal from the cabinet and milk from the fridge. After two bowls of straight sugar and drinking down the sickly sweet milk leftover, he tossed the bowl in the sink and was ready to head out. He stopped by his mom’s bent over figure to say a quick goodbye. He was already slinging his bag over his shoulder and shuffling into his shoes at the door when she looked up from her stretching. A wave without looking back was his only response to her usual request for him not to be late which she shouted at his back.
When finals were finally over he spent every waking moment he could with Willow or Jesse or the both of them but couldn’t manage to wrap up all of his time. Sometimes, despite what he would like, they had their own lives to live. Having a sleepover with Jesse every night would make any sane parents question the sexuality of their kid and there were only so many times his brain could handle the over complicated topics Willow’s family talked about at dinner. So most of the time he was fending for himself instead of going home. It didn’t take much to tell his dad or mom he needed some cash for this or that. They’d hand him a twenty and he would make that last as long as he could before telling him he needed cash to go out with his friends again.
Usually he just ended up walking around town. Sometimes he’d take some of the cash, by a ticket to the theater and see how many movies he could get away marathoning before someone noticed. It wasn’t the worst way he had spent a summer and it sure beat spending his free time at home. Summer was always harder for him than the rest of the year. He wasn’t the biggest fan of school but it gave him something to focus on and somewhere to be everyday that wasn’t home. There were a few times he actually considered taking summer classes but that could go one of two ways and neither was good. The better of the two was that he be labeled a try hard geek like Will. Wouldn’t exactly help on the bullying front but there were worse things. One of which being the other, more likely, outcome.
Chances were that if Xander Harris was taking summer classes it was because he was in danger of flunking out.
He wasn’t a complete idiot. Yeah he wasn’t crazy bright and he didn’t apply himself but he passed his classes. Last thing he needed was more people telling him how stupid he was. The only real use he had for school was as an excuse. He could get away with avoiding his parents or chores most of the time by saying he had to study or had a paper due soon. Not that he ever actually did those things locked away in his room. Despite the name he never did homework at home. If he did it at all it was at school or hanging out with Willow somewhere, anywhere else. When he was home, his life had nothing to do with school.
From the moment he set his backpack down that half of his life was packed into a corner of his mind. It took a lot more focus than he would like to admit to stay calm dealing with what he did day to day. So other than from within the context of a flimsy excuse, he wouldn’t let the US education system be a part of that life. Only time the two ever did meet was, like this, in his thoughts, walking around alone at night.
He knew that despite living in small town Sunnydale there were dangers to staying out too late or going anywhere secluded. He remembered the whole “Stranger-Danger” and “Buddy-up” talks that this town felt the need to reteach kids every year through middle school. Adults here were crazy paranoid about some creep snatching their babies up with the promise of candy. No candy for this boy though. Guess even creeps didn’t think him worth the effort. Anyways, the lessons still stuck with him and even if he doubted that he was on the weirdo radar he still kept to the busier and well lit sections of town.
He was nearing the Espresso Pump when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It made him jump and look more closely. There didn’t seem to be anything there but his breath had already hitched and he could feel his heart pumping away heavily against his chest.
“Dear in the headlights much?”
Great
He turned to find Cordelia surrounded by the posse she always managed to carry around with her like another of her bad accessories. Honestly he didn’t know who they were. He wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t even the same girls each time. He never actually gave them enough of his attention to be able to tell. It would take someone seriously vapid to want to follow this hell queen around.
“Going to skitter away like a fluffy bunny next?” Slightly curious if he could actually recognize any of the girls now he watched the giggles ripple between the four of them. Nope. Not a one was anybody who stood out in his mind. He looked back to Cordelia, maybe his imagination was particularly active tonight because it looked like there was actually a hint of concern in her expression. “What scary thing made you tuck your tail between your legs this time?” Funny how she showed said concern.
“Nothing, was just trying to figure out a way to avoid your ugly mug.” Good, deflect it back on her and she won’t see that you actually were freaked out for a moment. “Seriously you look ridiculous with that getup you have on.” He gestured at her clothes. She must be heading to the Bronze, or back from maybe, he didn’t know what time it was. “They say dress for the job you want. Did you have an interview as a disco ball tonight?” That probably did the trick.
“Not that you have the brainpower to understand this but..” Yeah that did the trick. “... height of fashion… trip to Spain…” blah blah blah. He couldn’t care less about the posturing she was doing. Instead his eyes were drawn to the blonde that was walking out of the alley he had felt a bad vibe from moments before. She couldn’t have been any older than himself and she didn’t look the slightest bit ruffled. Maybe what he thought he saw had been just a trick of the light. Cordelia certainly seemed ruffled when he turned his eyes back on her. She looked doubly pissed that he hadn’t been listening in rapture of her insults or self absorption. Not really feeling their argument anymore he threw one more scathing remark her way before trying to step past her.
“Seriously Xander! Listen to me!”
She wasn’t screaming but the outburst drew his attention for a moment. He realized that she was staring at him with a concern she was clearly disgusted by since it was shielded with a layer of loathing he was much more familiar with. That caught the rest of his attention and for a moment he didn’t have anything to say.
“Have you eaten anything besides that today.”
She was pointing at the foil wrap he had yet to throw out. He was a little short on cash so the one gas station hot dog was all he had since breakfast but there was no way he was telling her that. Belatedly he realized that she had dismissed her posse. It was just the two of them now. The realization didn’t make him any more comfortable.
“Since when do you care what I eat?”
Deflection, have to deflect this away from me. He rushed to figure something out but she didn’t give him the time.
“Maybe your guy brain hasn’t noticed but you look like a mess.” Her nose wrinkled up. “More of a mess than usual anyway”
“Thanks ever for your concern.” His response was dry. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe if she said something in character they could get back to trading barbs and eventually go their separate ways.
That thought actually gave him the ammo he was looking for.
“This play at pretending to give a damn doesn't suit you. You’re much better at offering tasteless quips that I don’t listen to.”
Any gentleness he had imagined up in her expression was gone at that. She was right back into cold bitch mode.
“Fine then. Sorry for thinking about you like another human being for a moment.” She turned her back on him and started to walk away. “I have better places to be.”
That was when Xander noticed that the other girls weren’t gone. They had just stepped away to the side where Cordelia was headed now. It’s possible he had been a little more rude than necessary. Still, it was Cordelia. Was there such a thing as too rude to her? On that thought, now was probably a good time to head for bed. If he was lucky his dad would be passed out from a bender.
His guess wasn’t too far off from the truth. His dad was crashed in the Archie Bunker chair by the time he walked in the door. He looked like a mess in long johns and a shirt he had worked multiple holes into. The blanket that probably covered him when he fell asleep instead lay over him at an awkward angle, which left most of him there for Xander to see. The TV was still on, some late night Seinfeld rerun, but the remote was in his dad’s hand and pressed against the black fabric that was masquerading as a t-shirt. So instead he walked in front of the television and clicked the power button on the front. Being the only light in the room, it flicked off and left him to mostly darkness. Still there was some of the streetlight filtering through the windows and the red LED on the cable box which read half past one. The man behind him really could have just been tired and fallen asleep during his show. It was late enough for it anyway. Except that the front door was right off the living room and he was pretty sure his dad slept there on purpose. Could see all the comings and goings and know exactly who was here.
He didn’t talk unless demanding a beer or throwing his weight around but Xander wasn’t so clueless that he didn’t recognize at least this much about his dad. The man liked control. It was a bit relieving to have the place to himself without his father guarding the door for the moment. With the loss of light he had to wait for his eyes to adjust. When they did he didn’t go upstairs immediately. Instead just watched his father sleep.
The jeans he wore that day were in a pile on the floor. Keys, money clip, receipts, all of it still in the pockets. The man had walked in the door, and pulled down his pants right there. To a lot of people this would be scandalous but Xander didn’t know a time when it wasn’t this way. Who cares that his father was in his underwear just inside their front door? It was a fact of life. Same as the empty cans and bottles on the side table next to the half eaten plate of dinner. Same as being barked at for a drink in lieu of a greeting. Doesn’t matter that the person asking could do it himself.
The conditioned part of him told him he should clean up his father’s mess. A smaller saner voice told him that it wasn’t his responsibility. A third feeling also chimed in, this being the one that shrunk away to hide when actually confronted. The anger that was building without being vented. Years of ignoring it and pushing it down. His whole life.
‘He loves you he just isn’t good at showing it.’ ... Yeah.
Last thing he expected in this moment was to hear his father saying something. It was only a mumble, but it was his voice. He turned to look at his father’s face but there was nothing out of the ordinary. His old man was still sprawled out, eyes closed, remote in hand, lips moving.
Lips moving.
More than a mumble then. Maybe he was waking up. Guess now was time to stop thinking and take that plate to the kitchen.
There was an audible sigh as the boy walked over to the small table. His dad was waking up and probably going to berate him for being out so late. Or maybe just yell at him for turning the TV off. Who knows? He was close now and his hand was about to touch the dish when the mumbles started becoming more understandable.
A couple of swears came through. ‘Bastard’ ‘son of a bitch.’ It wouldn’t be the first time Xander was called those things in this house. Still they were usually only used when seriously ticked off. He tried to convince himself that it was just a vivid dream causing this reaction. It wasn’t easy. The words themselves weren’t terrifying, but said in this voice they were. A small but still present sense of confidence was helping him start to move again.
Until the voice grew louder. And with the volume became clearer. Deliberate. It was one coherent sentence that broke the trance and it wasn’t a pretty one.
“I’ll kill you!”
The adrenaline kicked it before anything else. No time for emotion. This was simply reaction. The plate was forgotten, Xander moved as if he was being chased. His feet carried him up the stairs, round the corner and into his room before he had noticed he was moving. His arms acted on their own to slam the door shut behind him while his thoughts caught up to what had just been said. The house must have shook with the force of his actions but Xander didn’t pay any attention to that.
That tiny sane voice knew what was true. It was trying to tell him that his father was still asleep, he was when he said the words and still was when he left the living room. Only something so small wouldn’t be able to get through to him now. He was on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and his head pressed into his hands. There was no way he was moving.
Outside the door his mother was making rustling noises as she pulled up out of bed.
“Xander?” In the hallway now she saw that his door was closed, so he must have just come home. What could make him think to be so loud at this time of night was beyond her though. Teenagers could be so self-centered.
“Tell that kid to be quiet!” Her husband’s voice was shouting up the stairs. Must have woken him up too. “Some of us actually have to be awake in the morning otherwise I would take the time now and teach him some much needed respect.” He was being a bit harsh but she also was frustrated at being startled so it didn’t seem like that far a stretch. Her mind had just jumped to worry first rather than anger.
“You hear that Alexander!?” Now the woman was rolling her eyes and let out a soft sigh. He isn’t done yet. “Next time you wake up your mother I’ll beat your ass.”
“Tony!” His name was out her mouth before he had even finished the sentence. At the rate he was going, she was never going to fall back asleep. “It’s over now. We can discuss this with him at a time we shouldn’t all be sleeping.”
“I’m the one that says when it’s over!” He was angry but she heard some muffled noises and took that as evidence that he was actually going to acquiesce. Thankful that it was over before it began she shuffled back to her room and wrapped herself back up in the blankets to fall back into blissful sleep. Unfortunately the universe as it is decided her night wasn’t over yet. Just as she was being lulled by sleep she felt a heat creep through her from the core.
“Fuck”
The next moment the blankets were off and she lay, spread like a star, staring at the ceiling, waiting with cold skin and warm body for her hot flash to end.
Back in Xander’s room the trembling in his body was starting to die down. He had his back pressed up against the door and heard every word the two on the outside spoke or shouted. Then after their voices had quieted he heard the stomp of each footfall downstairs. His senses were tuned into figuring out exactly what those footsteps meant, exactly where he was and where he was going. Though closed in on himself his muscles were taught and ready to react. His heart was a thundering pressure in his ears but he focused on the sound. When he heard the slam of the fridge door he realized that it was over, not just words. His breathing was a bit rapid yet and he was starting to notice that his hands were growing damp against his face. Still, he felt like he had some control over his body again.
Now that he was calming down the scene replayed in his mind. He scanned his memory for what went wrong. Anything he could have missed. Then there it was. He found the mistake he made in the memory of the bottles next to his father. One of them wasn’t beer. There had been a liquor bottle that fell under the table. It was on its side. It had been partially covered by one of the legs. That must have been why it didn’t register.
Stupid! So stupid!
It had been whiskey he was pretty sure and it wasn’t cheap stuff either. That would have been in a bigger bottle. Someone must have come by while he was out wandering today. Liquor was never good. Liquor meant that there would be demons. Shouting and violence both before and after he fell asleep.
Xander slammed a freshly formed fist down against his knee and relished the sting of contact. It hurt like hell but that was most of the point. He should have noticed. Should have been here to stop it. Hide the bottle or at least try something. At the very least he wished that he had known anything. Had there been a warning he wouldn’t have come home tonight. Only he didn’t actually have anywhere else to go tonight. Jesse was off visiting family and Willow was having a girl’s night with Amy for the first time in forever. She had been really excited about it.
His problems weren’t worth stomping on Will’s plans like that. Besides he wasn’t thirteen anymore. Climbing into her window after a fight wasn’t what a soon to be sophomore in high school did. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly feasible anymore with how much he had grown. He was almost an adult. That meant he had to start handling this shit on his own. Which meant he had to be better than he was.