Rosene

Title: Rosene

Author: Chess

Email: duchess_drambuie@yahoo.com

Rating: PG?

Pairing: Xander/Ron (eventually)

Summary: Willow’s rampage had consequences for Xander, and there’s only one place he can go…

Spoilers: Buffy – Season7 esp. Help, Dirty Girls, and Chosen; Angel Season4 esp. Spin The Bottle and Cavalry. Harry Potter everything up to Order of the Phoenix.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, JK Rowling, Mutant Enemy, David Greenwalt, Kuzui, Sandollar, and whoever else might have a hold upon them. The situation is wholly mine, and I did not mean to infringe on any copyrights.

Notes: It was pretty tricky to get the Buffy/Angel timelines right, not to mention integrate Harry Potter without Xander being a total cradle-snatcher. Please ignore any major messes, or let me know and I’ll figure out how to fix them.



Xander watched Willow trace the letters on Tara’s tombstone, and turned away when pain flared up inside him again. He worked hard to calm himself when the leaves on a nearby tree started to rustle and fall, even though they were still green. The mass of guilt in the pit of his stomach remained, and he once again began to question his choices. How could he leave her like this? She had already lost so much – they all had, and now he was going to leave them as well.

But whatever was happening to him, he needed to find a way to stop it, or control it, and he knew that they didn’t need to deal with fixing Xander again. Buffy had Dawn and a new job, and Willow was obviously still struggling. If he couldn’t be there for them one hundred percent, it was better that he stayed away and found a way to fix this on his own. He was lucky no-one had noticed the episodes of nausea, sweating and shaking that he had been getting recently. They were becoming much worse, and he was under no illusions as to when they had started.

Xander turned and walked a little further down the hill. He paused beside a fairly nondescript tombstone, losing himself in memories of the day that all of this started for him. His fingers itched to do some word-tracing of his own as he gazed at the letters carved into the marble. He didn’t know who ‘Rosene’ was, or what it meant, but when he regained consciousness here on this spot, it was the last time he had still been fully normal.

He looked back over his shoulder at the flame-haired figure still seated at the other grave, and his expression softened. This was another reason he knew he had to leave. Willow could never know what she had done – he honestly didn’t think she could deal with any more consequences from her magical rampage. If he could shelter her from any more guilt, even only temporarily, he would. She might have to know one day, but not now. It would be too much.

So he was leaving. He was leaving his friends and their fight, and seeking help away from the Hellmouth. If this was a simple human illness, he would have stayed, died fighting, but he could feel in his bones that this was magic.