Xander strode along the sidewalks, following the GPS on his phone as his anger and raging emotions spurred him onward faster and faster until he was nearly running. Why couldn't Alec understand? Why did he think he had to always be there, included? Alec didn't need him! He didn't need Alec! He didn't need anyone! Except for Declan, and only then because he needed a ride out. Dark would understand. He was always talking about the stupid stuff he'd done and that was why he couldn't hold it against them. Leaving in the middle of the day with a note - okay, a message - couldn't be even close to the worst thing he'd ever done. Daizi would be fine. She had the new baby to keep her occupied. They both did. Soon, the baby would be born, and Xander would be the last thing on their mind. He wouldn't matter. And Alec...
Alec would be fine. Right? Right. He'd be fine. Dark and Daizi would look after him. While having a brand new miracle baby that they both were clearly planning on mooning over every minute of every day? No, Alec would be forgotten because he was quiet, easily disappearing into the woodwork, and never making a fuss. Forgotten.
Xander's steps slowed. Could he really do that to him? He shook himself and started walking again. Forget it. No. It was time Alec learned to stand on his own two feet, right? He didn't need Xander to do that. Actually, that was kind of the point. Xander was going out to discover himself, and Alec had to do the same! Discover himself. Right! That's what all this was about.
Then his feet slowed again. Except, that's what Alec had been doing. Ever since they'd arrived at Dark and Daizi's, and even before then, he'd been trying to find himself. That was his wild choice in clothing. At first, it had been a way to keep warm and carry their supplies with them, but then, over time, it had become his style, his signature. He'd been trying to figure himself out this whole time while they were together. Always together, never apart. He might not have gotten very far at first, especially since for a lot of it they'd both been trying to survive, but he'd been trying. All while right there next to Xander. He hadn't needed to try to go off and find himself. He had found himself right where he was.
Xander stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, but he didn't care as he stared at nothing. Alec stayed because he wanted to. Yes, he might also be slightly overly dependent on Xander, but he stayed because he wanted to. Whenever something good happened, the first one he told was Xander. Something bad happened, he told Xander. Something funny, mildly interesting, annoying... Alec turned to Xander not because he wanted Xander to solve his problems for him but because he wanted Xander involved in his life.
Xander found himself at the bus stop bench faster than he'd expected and stopped to stand near it. The bus was already on its way. He gotten there just in time. The bus rolled up, its breaks squeaking and squealing as it stopped in front of him. Xander looked up. Automatically, he grabbed his bag and got up. He hesitated, one foot on the bottom stare, earning a glare from the driver. Then he steeled himself and stepped up into the bus, dropping his change into the little device and heading to an empty seat. He sat down with a thump and leaned against the side, staring out.
Alec had always wanted Xander to be involved in his life, and Xander... Xander had always done the same. Always. They had always been there for each other. Whenever Xander was upset, who was there to calm him down? Alec. Who was there to help him understand when he felt he was missing the point? Alec. Who was always willing to step forward and do the polite talking? Alec. Who was there like a cheerleader whenever he tried to do something new? Alec.
Alec didn't drag him down. He pushed him forward and lifted him up.
"What have I done?" he whispered, remorse coursing through him. He swallowed hard. "I am an idiot. An absolute idiot." He thumped his forehead against the window. What now? He needed to get back to Alec! No, wait, first, he needed to tell Declan he wasn't going with him. He couldn't get the bus to turn around, he might as well go the rest of the way and tell Declan. He'd already messed up with Alec. He couldn't disappoint Declan, too. He'd make it short. He'd tell Declan he couldn't go, then he'd get back and talk to Alec. He'd make it up to Alec! Somehow.
The bus moved along at a much faster clip than walking, and it wasn't long until they arrived at the small hotel. It was the closest hotel to Dark and Daizi's house, so even though the bus took a circuitous route, it didn't take long to get there. Xander stood before the bus fully stopped and hurried to the doors. He had to get home as fast as he could. Which meant he had to deal with Declan as fast as he could. The hotel was only a block from the bus stop. He jogged the whole way, his eyes on the door. He had to fix his mistake! But he wasn't going to be making more mistakes along the way.
The hotel door swung open under his hand, and he stepped into a cold room of white and polish. It wasn't actually that expensive of a hotel, though it was on the higher end. It was trying to look as expensive as it possibly could and only partially managed to sell the illusion. Xander slowed uncertainly. How was he going to get ahold of Declan? Could the hotel people just tell him his room number? Was that allowed? Thankfully, his problem was solved when he spotted a familiar figure standing at the front desk. Only one lady was working the desk, and she had her entire attention focused on Declan, leaning over farther than necessary and smiling widely. Xander sighed in relief and moved to stand behind and slightly to one side of Declan, waiting his turn.
"Really? You're off down south next?" the girl asked just loud enough that Xander could hear easily thanks to the echoing faux marble floors and countertop.
"Yeah, right after my stop in Beverton," Declan grinned, leaning on the counter. "I'm heading straight down to the sunny fields of Springfield in all its tourist glory."
Xander frowned. What was he saying? Then he noticed something by Declan's feet. A travel bag, one just the right size to tie to the back of a motorcycle and still carry the basic needs. A second smaller bag sat next to the first. His breath caught in his throat. His chest felt tight. The room felt suddenly hot, like someone had cranked up the heat. What was happening?
"Wow, that must be really nice, just riding around, free as the wind," the woman sighed, leaning her cheek on her hand. "Are you coming back this way?"
Declan shrugged. "Probably not for a couple of years. I've seen everything I need to see here, and it is all fine." He smirked as he said it, his eyes traveling over the perky, young girl.
She giggled, seeming to be completely fine with the blatant flirtation. "Wow. I sure wish I could go with you. Well, you're all set to leave, Mr. Walsh."
"Please, Tina, you can call me Declan," he chuckled. "I look forward to seeing you next time, if you're still here."
"I thought you said you were leaving tomorrow." It took Xander a second to realize the words had come from him.
Declan spun around, shock and guilt flashing across his face. Then it was gone, hidden by a wide smile. "Xander! What are you doing here?"
"Watching you leave, apparently," Xander snapped, the blood rushing through his ears like a roar. "You're leaving now, aren't you? Right now? You said tomorrow."
Declan shrugged, shifting back a half step. "I got the time mixed up."
The girl watching stepped back, but she didn't take her eyes off the pair. She looked like she was watching a bad movie.
"No you didn't," Xander said, his tone flat and controlled. "You don't get times like your leaving to a new job wrong. You don't forget that you're checking out a full day early, and you don't forget that you're heading to a completely different town and not coming back." He paused to catch his breath, panting even though he'd sounded calm. He shook his head. "You weren't going to tell us goodbye, were you? You were just going to leave us to figure it out for ourselves. And you weren't coming back."
Declan gave an uncomfortable chuckle and shrugged a bit. "Well, I'm not good at goodbyes, kid, and it's not like we've known each other long."
"We're your fucking kids, not a one-night stand, you aseholed idiot!" Xander screamed, his voice echoing through the hotel entryway.
Declan and every other eye in the room stared at Xander. Then all eyes turned to Declan. He frowned, glancing around nervously as he suddenly found himself in the center of their scrutiny. He rallied and stepped forward, holding up his hand.
"Now, wait a minute," he warned. "Did you really expect me to drop everything-"
"Yes!" Xander snapped. "And you wait a minute, you pompous jackass. You've done nothing for the past week but talk and tell me all the wonderful things about your life and how you live and dropping hints like you'd take me along, but it's all a load of shit, isn't it? You never intended to take me. You never even intended to come back. You were going to rocket off on your motorcycle and abandon us all over again! Just like you did our mum! 'Cause you know who dropped everything for us every frickin' day of her life? Our mum! And you never even gave her a dime of support! Maybe if you had, she'd still be alive today! But no, you had your precious freedom and carefree lifestyle to worry about, didn't you?"
"Hey!" Declan shouted. "She was an adult. She made her own choices. This isn't my fault."
Xander snorted. "No, it never is, is it? Dark and Daizi were right about you." He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. "I should have listened to them. I should have listened to Alec. Who, by the way, is a fantastic kid, way better than me, and it's your loss that you didn't think he was good enough to be your playmate. 'Cause that's all I ever was to you; a playmate, a toy, something to amuse yourself with while you were in town. But Alec wasn't going to be that because he had the brains to see through your smarmy-faced facade. I wish you'd never come."
"It wasn't my idea, kid. That damn Ciara insisted," Declan snapped.
"Oh, look, another excuse," Xander said in a sing-song tone. "You know I almost threw away everything for you? Alec's probably never going to talk to me again as it is." He glared at Declan. Do yourself a favor, Father, and get yourself lost. You never wanted to be here, so don't. Don't ever come back. Don't come near us or contact us ever again. Don't call. Don't text. Don't drive by. Stay gone and never come back."
He turned and marched out the doors. Declan called something after him, but he wasn't listening. His ears roared, and his heart pounded like a kettledrum. His knees shook, but he forced them to keep walking. He walked, nearly running, until he couldn't go any farther. Then, with head throbbing, throat burning, and heart breaking, he sank onto a bench. He looked around but didn't recognize where he was. He lowered his head and clasped it tightly in both hands. What had he done? He'd ruined everything. It was all his fault. He'd broken everything because he thought he'd known better than Dark.
Sure, Declan had done all the things Xander had thought he wanted and wanted Dark to do with him, like going cool places and spending one-on-one time together doing the most random of cool things, but when had Declan ever actually had a serious conversation with Xander? When had he just checked in on him to see how he was doing? Even asked how school was? When had they ever done anything meaningful? Never. It had just been adventure after party. Xander suddenly realized he knew nothing about Declan. Not really. Declan had never offered a single meaningful thing. Unlike Dark.
Dark. The one who'd waited up every late night. The one who'd put up with every sarcastic remark. The one who'd patiently guided and pointed in the right direction but never forced. The one who'd never made a single remark about either of them unless it was positive. The one who'd walked away rather than say something he'd regret. The one who was always there, always waiting, and always steady. That was what a real man looked like, not whatever it was Declan touted.
And what had Xander done? Stabbed him in the back. Done everything he could to make his life a living hell. What a way to say thanks. If he were Dark, he'd never trust him again. He would toss him out. But Dark wasn't Xander. He was better. Maybe, just maybe, if Xander groveled enough, Dark would take him back if only for Alec's sake.
Shaking so hard he could barely grasp the zipper, Xander pulled his phone from his backpack and dialed Dark's number, getting it wrong once, and then waited, folded in half, phone to his ear.
