This is Goodbye || Peyton and Xander
Peyton 's mind had been on overdrive ever since talking to Estela. She really hadn't realized how much she wanted out until she came out and said it. She hadn't realized how much she hated the flat now that Oz was gone. She hated sitting in the living room where they all used to play videogames or watch a movie. She hated going in the kitchen where Oz had tried on numerous occasions to teach her different recipes ranging from homemade mac and cheese to some exotic Tibetan dishes that she couldn't even recall the names of anymore. Every corner she turned she was reminded of her dead friend. Oz had been the calmest part of her life, the most stable person she had. He was there for her in the past in ways no one else ever could be, and she never had to pretend around him to keep from hurting him. And she never got to tell him that. She never got to tell him how much he meant to her. It was the same mistake she made with Tommy. And some dark part of her hated herself for it. She should have fucking learned the first time. He probably knew, but it still hurt. It hurt so much that there were some nights she'd walk into his room and stay there for hours, hoping that somehow being close to that part of him would make it go away. It didn't. There was just no way she could do this anymore. She couldn't sit around and watch her friends die off one by one. She didn't want to die, either. She didn't want to just be another Slayer statistic, getting killed by some demon or another before she was 25. She deserved better than that. So did the people she cared about. There were others out there. Others who wanted to do this with their whole hearts. Was it fair to call herself a hero when her own heart wasn't in it? Probably not. And she knew she was being selfish, but after everything...Well, Estela had it right when she said she wasn’t willing to sit around waiting to die. But then there was Xander. He’d been through so much and he still always came back. Maybe that made him stronger than her, but then again, she pretty much always knew that. “Hey,” she said, walking into the living room with a slightly forced smile. It became more real as she saw him snuggling up with Lara. “Got a minute to talk?”
Xander looked up, smiling at Peyton as she walked in, still twirling the guitar pick. It had just been lying on coffee table - another symptom of Oz' presence, and something that wouldnt have been left there if Oz had been there. It'd probably never see another guitar string again. "For you, always," he replied, sitting a little straighter.
Peyton looked at the pick in his hand and felt her stomach twist into a tiny knot before taking a seat next to him. Of course Lara jumped into her lap the minute she sat down. Peyton leaned against the armrest, petting the dog in her lap, trying to think of how to word what she wanted to say. "So, do you hate it here as much as I do right now?" She paused before adding, "The flat, London, the Hellmouth...take your pick."
Xander missed the lack of warmth the second she jumped away, wincing at where Lara had kicked off from. He could guess. The hellmouth sucked, it always had and always would. When he'd come to London, it had been a fresh start, a way to get away from the horrors of Cleveland and Sunnydale. But now, Xander was starting to recognise that maybe Sunnydale's hellmouth had been much gentler, with a smaller population to harrass. And the flat? They'd loved it for a couple of months. Xander had chosen the last one, and it had been meant just for him. Which had lasted all of a few days before Oz had moved in. And then others, flitting in and out. This place had been so important because they'd chosen it together, they'd loved it together, they'd decorated it together. With Oz gone, none of that felt adequate. So Xander had an easy answer to that question. At least they wouldn't start compromising as a couple on the subject of hate. "Yes."
Peyton sighed with relief. At least that'd make talking about this a little easier. Maybe. This conversation was a big deal. It could make or break them, and she knew that. But there was no way she could stay here. And it wasn't fair to him or her if she kept that to herself. Pretended like everything was okay when it clearly wasn't. She met his gaze and held it. "I hate it. I hate it a lot. Everything about London and living on a Hellmouth and when I'm here I feel like I'm obligated to do something about it all. And you were right when you said I loved being a Slayer. I did, Xan. A lot. But now it just feels like..." A death sentence. "Like I'm just waiting for something to finally get the better of me and..." She shook her head, looking back down at Lara. Where would the stupid dog go if something happened to her? "If I stay here and keep doing this, we both know what's going to happen. I'm not Buffy. I can't just put everything aside and save the world over and over again." She saw what it did to Spike. How he tried desperately to get through to the other Slayer. How Buffy would put everyone and everything aside if it meant keeping the world safe. Peyton didn't want that. "I don't want to die..."
Xander flinched at her last words, looking away. He didn't want that either. For her. She deserved better. He hadn't wanted it for Buffy, either. He'd gone to sinful lengths to prevent it, to spit in fate's face. He didn't want to think about losing Peyton too. Xander's hand trembled, and he put away the pick, trying to hide the grief that crashed down on him. Part of him knew he'd done this to Peyton, as much as he tried not to think like that. Regretting the past doesn't change anything, right? But this last year had been full of regrets. But Xander had nothing to say to her. Nothing he could use to reassure her, nothing helpful. Because it had been a lifetime ago that Buffy had really let him in, and now it felt like she never would. "I don't, either," he finally settled for, unsure of what else to say. "I'm, uh, struggling with the Peyt code here." he commented, giving her another weak smile. But right now, all he could see was the glaring hole in her chest that matched Oz's, the inevitable one if she stayed.
Peyton saw Xander shy away, and she moved closer to him, taking his hand in hers. She stroked the back of it with her thumb, waiting for him to give her something back. It's how they worked. Talk, process, respond. It was hard for her sometimes, the talking thing. And he was so patient with her so she only owed it to him to wait out for him, too, even as she tensed up, nervous or...even kinda scared of what he'd say. She smiled back chuckling, remembering their stupid code game they'd started months ago. Peyton code. His code words for, "Peyt, mind telling me what the hell you're trying to say?" She'd gotten better at not making him try to figure her out, instead going for the honest route. This topic was just...hard. "Estela asked me if I wanted to leave," she started, getting right to the point this time. "And it made me think about it and...Well, I think it'd be something I'd want, you know? A chance to get out? Maybe have a shot at even having a life that doesn't involve...yeah." Putting herself at risk 24/7. Getting tortured by sadistic vampires. Watching the people she cares about die. “And I don’t know if it’d be forever. But I just can’t do this right now. If I keep trying to be a hero with everything going on and how I’m feeling and the anger and…Well, I know for a fact I’m gunna get myself killed.” She shrugged. It was blunt, but honest. She was angry and scared and hurting. Trying to keep up with a gig that was dangerous as hell on a normal day? She wouldn’t stand a chance. She knew her limits now. And she was determined to not push herself over the edge again. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is if I’d be leaving alone or…would you consider coming with me?”
Xander nodded as she said it. That should have been obvious, now he stopped to think about it. He was surprised Estela had suggested it, of all people she seemed most well adjusted to being a Slayer. There had been... that one creep. The asshole Peyton would have happily seen dead. But Xander had only ever talked about it with Peyton. "I understand," he replied carefully, taking her hand in between the pair of his. The idea was... terrifying. Could he really leave, not just here, but this life? It was what Xander had known always, always had been used to. And yeah, leading a normal life - he enjoyed it. He loved building things, loved making things. It was so much better than constantly tearing them down. Xander looked at his hands and they were covered in blood. When he looked in the mirror his face looked whole to him now, but sometimes he forgot it was his. The scars on his chest were from other lives. Xander hated the pain. Happiness, love, that belonged with the normal parts of his life. Pride and adrenaline, the rushing feeling of victory? They were great feelings, but they weren't enough. Not when balanced with the grief of Oz being dead because someone had torn his heart out of his chest. And that's what Peyton was offering him. Normality, but unlike when he'd had to make this decision in Cleveland, she had an extra bargaining chip. He'd come to London because the people he loved were here. But he loved Peyton too, every part of her, and more and more he was failing to protect the other... Maybe saying yes was a way to protect her. "I would definitely consider it. Where was she thinking?"
Peyton knew this was asking a lot of him. She knew how much everyone here meant to him. So when Xander said he'd consider it, she didn't take that lightly. Instead she smiled a bit more, and responded, "Don't know. We haven't gotten that far yet." When he said before that he'd leave, the circumstances were different. They were leaving because they were "on the run" so to speak. Sort of had no choice. This was different. This was making a choice. "I wanted to talk to you first."
Xander nodded. I wanted to talk to you first. There was a way she said it him, like he mattered more than Xander believed he did, and Xander realised he'd been looking at it wrong. If he was gonna say yes, it wouldn't be to get her safe. It was the selfsame sacrificial nature Xander had grown to hate. He'd spent so long unlearning being selfish, that he'd maybe gone too far. Getting away... it'd give him time to come to peace with the Martin thing. It'd let him not see a human in every vampire. You spend so long looking for the weakpoints in demons, it's not something you can just switch off around people for politeness sake. And Xander didn't want to be another gravestone, another martyr, the way he didn't want to be a soldier for the rest of ever. But he wanted to be out there, fighting, saving and helping people. It was pretty contradictory. And he couldn't choose this for Peyton. Because as much as he loved her, and he did, it didn't have to be the destructive kind. There was room in his love for him too, someday. Xander hoped. But if he spent the rest of forever fighting the demons on the outside and running from the ones on the inside, how was he supposed to do that? But... there was Willow, and Buffy. Giles, and Maggie. People Xander loved and valued, and couldn't just leave behind. Anya and Daw- no, she was barely around. A ghost. That was another punch to the chest. "I need time to think about it," he said quietly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her gently.
Peyton chewed her bottom lip as she waited. When he finally spoke again, she realized she let out a breath she'd been holding in for a while. She nodded, picking up Lara and putting her on her other side so she could move under Xander's arm. She rested her head on his shoulder and thought some more. If he said no, would she still leave? She was surprised when she realized the answer was yes. She couldn't stay here because of him. Or for anyone else. Not for Spike or her family or for the Council. She was leaving because it was what she needed. When she said she couldn't stay here anymore, she meant it. The realization that there was a possibility she'd be leaving without him? That hurt. But she couldn't ask him to leave for her sake, just like he wouldn't ask her to stay for his. She hated it. She hated that she'd found someone as amazing as him who loved her a whole fuck ton, and now she was considering the thought of leaving him. It wasn't fair. But neither was Oz dying. Neither was Dawn or Tommy dying or her and Estela getting tortured or all those people dying because of one selfish prick. She couldn't help the tears that sprang in her eyes again at the thought of him not coming with her. Bloody hell, she was so sick of crying. "Yeah, figured you would." She took a deep breath before looking up at him. "I have to do this, though. No matter what, I--" She swallowed hard and continued. "I can't stay here, Xander."
He spent hours thinking about what Peyton had suggested. Sometimes, it was easy to “forget”. It was easy to push facts so far behind him that Xander could convince himself they didn’t hurt him, that if he just kept plowing on it wouldn’t catch up with him. That had worked for him a lot. It had helped him ignore the gaping absence of Jesse, after Tara’s death, while Anya was off being a Vengeance Demon. Not that it always worked. The evidence was in Xander’s dry hands, in the scratches in his weapons after every scrubbing, in the hesitations around vampires and in the nightmares that still dropped by every night, in the horror of knowing burying two of the best people in his life was barely days away. And knowing it would keep happening was weighing down on Xander like a ton of bricks. But the idea of leaving the people who would stay was also terrifying. What if he left and they died? Then he wouldd have wasted moments away from them. He paced, sat down, jumped up, fidgeted with things, hovered in the door frame to Oz's room, went downstairs to trace his finger across the scratch in the front door, did dishes over and over. He cursed and felt tears run down his cheeks in grief, in anger, in pain. There was so much to think about. And the final decision weighed down on Xander when he made it. He just hoped it was the right one. Peyton was in the kitchen, struggling over the hot stove. He turned down the hot plates slightly, knowing the food would still be there for them in a few minutes. Silently, he took her to the couch, sitting down and leaning in to kiss her. It was desperate, sure, terrified, sure, but also passionate and loving, attuned to her and her reactions. When they finally broke away, he looked Peyton hard in the eyes. Before he gave her an answer, there was something else he wanted to do first. To show how much he trusted her. And maybe it wouldn't mean anything to Peyton, but it meant a lot to him. If they were to make this decision, he had to be fully open about who he was. "I want to show you something," he started slowly. "And it's kinda gross and scary as all get out for me, but..." he'd seen her at her most vulnerable, and she'd seen him like that too. There was just one thing he'd deliberately kept hidden, and he wanted to fix that. He didn't want to be scared of himself anymore.
Peyton had distracted herself with things all afternoon. Cleaning Gandhi's tank, walking Lara, and now just making something for dinner. Some pasta recipe she'd found in one of Oz's cookbooks. She was about to start the sauce when Xander came in, turning down the burners on the stove. She was going to ask what he was doing when instead he just took her hand and wanted him to come with her. Alright then. She threw the towel she'd been using on the counter and followed him, expecting that they were going to do the talking thing again. Another surprise when he kissed her instead. Wasn't really complaining there. Peyton leaned back against the arm of the couch, pulling him to her and kissed him back. He broke away first to look at her, and Peyton caught her breath as she sat back up, wondering what he was talking about. Gross and scary? Her first thought was dead body, but figured that A) Probably wasn't it and B) Wasn't exactly the time to mention dead things. Instead she opted for a silent nod and waited.
Xander noded again, bracing himself. Suddenly, all of that bravado was running out the window as he braced himself. And maybe this was the wrong time for that. It was inappropriate, or something. Oz was dead, for crying out loud! But, it felt relevent. It felt important. Originally, he'd planned to do it slowly and dramatically, but he wasn't brave enough for that. Xander took hold of the rubber band that held his eyepatch in place, and yanked it away. No hesitation. But the second it was off, Xander dropped his gaze. It felt monstrous. Although the scars were less angry, several white scars littered his eyelid, centering at where his pupil once had been. under the eyelids was clear glass, just a shell of it over the pink flesh. Xander felt naked without it. He'd never willingly let someone see this side of him before. Slowly, he dare to look back up at her, tightening his jaw. This was Peyton, after all. He had wanted her to see him. No secrets. If they were going to leave together, they had to be open with eachother, and Xander was as comfortable with her as he was with himself in every other aspect of their life. He didn't hide his grief, so why would he hide old scars? "I... I want to come with you." He said plainly, letting that sink in before anything else was said.
Peyton tried really, really hard to understand what Xander was doing. Obviously, this meant a lot to him, but she couldn't figure out why. Even without the eye patch, it was still Xander. Sure the scars were there, but she'd sort of figured that's what was there anyway. She stared at him for a moment with her head tilted to the side. Huh. It was even kind of bad arse looking. Was she supposed to be scared or something? She wasn't really sure how he was expecting her to react, but then he started talking again, and Peyton's confusion melted away as her lips started turning upwards into a smile. All the tension from earlier fell away and she jumped forwards, tackle-hugging him back down on the couch. She laughed on top of him, and kissed him before giving him a chance to respond. "Seriously? You're coming?" She asked, searching his face looking for any signs of doubt or lies.
Xander watched her face carefully. Waiting for a reaction, or something. Mostly all he could see was confusion. Part of him had expected for her to flinch away. What was it they said about eyes being windows to the soul? Well, Xander had just the one, and for a long time in the mirror he'd flinched away from his own reflection, seeing a monstrosity in the other. But Peyton wasn't looking at him any differently. He let go of a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, just as Peyton knocked into him. He grinned at her laugh, and when Peyton kissed him for a moment he forgot. It was just him, and her, and the dog that was trying to worm its way into their hug. "Yeah, seriously." He replied again, tugging her down for another kiss. They had a rhythm that they'd perfected over the last weeks. It took a while to remember that that hadn't been the only thing he'd planned to say. He'd had a whole speech planned, all of which was now gone. But he could remember the gist of it. He pushed them so that they were upright, at the very least. "I had this whole thing in my head, what I was gonna say," he commented, "something about how you keep me sane. You're my rock. And I'm yours. And whenever I see you, all I can see is how brave you are, how strong it makes you. And it makes you kind of glowy. And there's no way I get this lucky, because this girl, she even laughs at my jokes. And hustles candy out of me. Here, you should get your nachos out because it's about to get real cheesy in here," Xander paused, smiling warmly. Remembering Oz was dead was a sudden stab in his chest, but he knew, wherever Oz was, that he'd be happy for them. "It'd be my honor to go with you. Not that I've got an awful lot of honor, but I got some, and I feel like you deserve it. You're kinda the one for me. And this? All this, it sucks, so, so, so bad. You're right, I'm tired of watching people die. Watching you live and flourish, being a part of that? That's much more my kinda deal." And maybe working out how to love himself again along the way, or to forgive himself. As much as he loved Peyton, it wasn't just for her. And selff pity wasn't invited to this party, anyway. It felt wrong, because it should have been Oz leaving with them, not Estela, and leaving so soon after he'd died... it almost felt like cheating. Another one of his big regrets. But somewhere in his head, he knew it wasn't. And for Xander, for now, that was enough.
