I’m having one of those moments right now.

In technicolor.

I’m not entirely sure why I’m still here. That demon had my number. I was sure I was dead. But the weird part is, I’m not. I’m kinda numb, actually. Maybe I’m in shock. With all the hours spent reading those medical texts, you’d think I’d know what was wrong with me. After taking a moment to catalogue the feelings rocketing through me, I decide I’m not really hurt. I think I’m just overwhelmed.

Slowly, feeling starts to seep back into my limbs. The cold fear in my heart that caused all the blood in my body to rush to my chest is dissipating, and sound floods back to my ears. The sound of sobbing.

For some reason I can’t fathom, Xander has his arms wrapped tightly around me, and he’s letting gut-wrenching sobs take over his entire body. And then other noises rush in. The sounds of metal clanging, fighting, and it seems really close. I press closer to Xander, hoping that we’ll be okay. I’m afraid to open my eyes and see death staring me in the face again.

“Left! Buffy, left!” Giles’ voice echoes through the bowling alley, and then there’s a sick sound of metal smacking on flesh before the even worse sound of flesh connecting with hardwood. After four years of Scooby duty, I’ve learned to distinguish many, many gross sounds. The silence after a battle is always sudden. One minute there’s bedlam, and the next minute everything’s calm.

But this time, there’s no hushed moment. I squeeze my eyes open as Buffy falls to her knees and begins choking with tears. Xander is blocking most of my view, but I can clearly see her crumple and slump to the highly waxed floorboards. Giles seems paralyzed, and he finally drops his sword, letting it clatter loudly in the quiet alley.

Xander’s whole body is shaking, and I hug him to me, trying to reassure him that it’s over, and that we’re okay. “Xander,” I whisper, finding my voice harsh and ragged. “Are you hurt?”

He lets out a quiet whimper and strokes my hair. “Willow.” There’s a myriad of emotions in his voice as he says my name. He’s said it thousands of times before, but it never sounded like a death sentence and a prayer all at once.

Now I’m worried. I try to pull back from him to look at him, but he’s having none of it. Panicking, I try to squirm away from him, but I’m unexpectedly trapped by more arms. It’s Buffy, and she’s crying and hugging us close to her.

“I’m so sorry, Xand. I’m so sorry.” Her words come out in a rush, accompanied by quiet crying. Her tear-streaked face disappears into my hair, and I’m still trying to figure out her apology when Giles appears out of nowhere, squatting down beside us and patting us all comfortingly.

And suddenly I realize someone is absent from our group hug.

Anya.

It all rushes back. The demon knocking the short sword out my hands as if it were tinfoil. The claws grazing my side, which I realize now is bleeding. The sounds of Anya’s terrified scream and more noises of the fight as the heavy hands were beginning to clamp around my throat. But then Xander came out of nowhere and then next thing I know, he’s holding me so close I can barely breathe.

I can’t breathe at all right now. My lungs are blocked and my eyes are burning with pain for him. Me or Anya. Anya or me. He had to choose. And he chose me. My own sob escapes my lips, and the irony isn’t lost on me. When I had to choose, I didn’t choose Xander.

“Xander,” I manage to choke out, “I’m sorry Xand. Oh God.”

The sound of an approaching siren splits the quiet around us, and Giles is once again there to jolt us back into reality. “The authorities are here. We have to leave, quickly.”

Without a word, Xander stands up, hoisting me into his arms and ignoring my grunt of pain as he applies pressure to the wound in my side. It’s not that deep, but it’s fresh and still tender. Buffy snaps into Slayer-mode, and begins to lead us out the back entrance, where we left Giles’ car only minutes before.

Giles and Xander help me into the backseat, and then Xander climbs in beside me. Buffy and Giles take their seats in front. Xander’s still shaking, and his lips and face are an ashen color. I move closer to him and try to hug him in the cramped space. He just lost Anya. I can’t even comprehend how he must be feeling.

Slowly, he raises his face and as our eyes meet, I’m shaken to the core of my being. I cradle him closely and sob a little as his eyes well up just from looking at me. In one instant, our whole relationship dynamic has changed. Now, I don’t know if he’s happy he saved me, or if I’m going to be a constant reminder of what he gave up for me.

Tears of frustration join tears of sorrow on my lashes. I’m not sure what’s going to happen from here. But there’s one thing I want to make clear to him. “Xand,” I say quietly, making sure he’s looking at me before I continue, “Thank you. I’m so, so, so sorry you had to make that kind of a choice. But thank you.”

His face crumples as he gathers me into his arms, and his words are almost lost to me. “Never really a choice, Will.”