*****

Xander sat back on one of the desks, throwing a tennis ball against the wall and catching it when it bounced back.

"Hey," Willow greeted as she ducked into the classroom, a frown upon her face. "What are you doing?"

"Bouncing a ball against the wall," Xander answered without looking at the redhead.

"Having fun?" she asked, not really knowing what to say or do. She knew something was wrong, she just didn't know how to talk to Xander anymore.

"Do I look like I'm having fun?"

Willow looked down and studied the floor. "I guess not," she whispered quietly to herself. Moving to sit next to Xander, Willow ventured, "No?"

"Give the lady a prize."

"Do you want to talk?"

"'bout what?"

"Whatever it is that has you acting like the Anti-Xander."

Catching the ball with his right hand, Xander pushed off the desk with his left. He didn't look at Willow as he said, "I've got to go."

**

"Xander?" Giles squatted down by Xander's cot in the den. "Xander, are you getting up? We'll be late for school."

"I'm not going, Giles."

"Xander," he said softly, placing a light hand on the boy's back. "Oz's waiting for you." It had been arranged that Oz would pick Xander up for school instead of Giles and Xander arriving at school together, to avoid arousing questions from not only Buffy and Willow, but from the faculty, students and administration as well.

Xander turned his head, allowing the librarian to see his watery brown eyes for the first time that morning. "Giles, please don't make me go today."

Giles' hand moved from Xander's back to brush against his cheek as he searched the boy's eyes. "Okay," he said gently. "But I'm not leaving you alone." Xander nodded then closed his eyes, a few tears slipping out between the slits of his eyes.

Standing up, Giles moved out to the front room, shutting the thin wooden doors behind him. "He's staying home today."

"Is it bad?" Oz asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I think so. I'm calling out today to stay with him. Will you tell Buffy that she should just train on her own then patrol as usual?"

"Yeah. What should I tell Buffy and Willow when they see that both you and Xander are out? I don't want to lie."

Giles nodded as he headed over to the phone. "Then don't lie. Tell them that Xander and I are both out because we had to take a research trip and my car broke down so he had to drive me."

Oz blinked. "Isn't that a lie?"

"Only technically. But, we will be researching, only not demons who reside on the Hellmouth and my car isn't working all that well and. . ."

"His car is still at his house, Giles, how do you explain that into your untruth?"

Sighing in exasperation, Giles shook his head. "Tell them whatever you bloody like, Oz. I don't have time to just come up with schemes on how to keep his living here a secret."

**

Moving back into the den, Giles crouched down by the cot. Xander had rolled himself into a ball. "Xander?" Giles said tenderly. "Xander, would you like me to call Dr. Karls?" Xander shook his head. "What can I do help you?"

Slowly, Xander's hand moved out and grasped Giles' hand that had been resting on the cot. Pulling his hand back, Xander brought Giles' to his chest and just held it there.

The two stayed like that for a half an hour, until the awkward angle caused the librarian's arm to start to fall asleep. Giles had thought that Xander was asleep, but as he tugged his hand back gently, the boy's eyes opened. He just looked at Giles.

Brushing his fingers over Xander's forehead, all Giles wanted to do was give this boy a little bit of happiness. Xander still hadn't spoken about the abuse he'd suffered at home and seemed to be sinking into a never ending depression. "I'm going to call Dr. Karls and see if she can work you in today, all right?"

Xander's only response was to blink and roll over, turning his back to Giles.

"Xander? Something's very obviously wrong and if you can't talk to me about it, at least try to talk to her."

**

"So you've been having a bad day?" the older woman questioned gently and received a shrug from the slumped boy in the chair before her. Nodding to herself, she said, "We've been doing a lot of talking lately about a lot of things. Do you think it's time to focus in on some things that are bothering you?" Again, the boy just shrugged. "Why don't we talk about your dad."

"I don't want to."

"Your mom then?" Xander shook his head. "Why don't you want to talk about them?"

"Because I don't."

"Does it hurt?" she pushed gently.

"Look," Xander nearly growled, "I just don't want to talk about them, okay?"

Dr. Karls just nodded slowly. "We've been meeting twice a week and I'm not sure if that's enough, so I think we should meet on a daily basis."

Xander's brow furrowed. "Because I don't want to fucking talk, you're making me come here everyday?" Unconsciously, he picked up a small stuffed bear and began twisting at its neck.

"What's making you so angry, Xander?"

Standing, he moved to the door. "Our time's up." Moving through the door and down the stairs quickly, Xander looked at Giles and said, "I'm not ever coming back," then continued towards the door.

**

"Xander? Why don't you want see Dr. Karls anymore?" Giles asked softly as he watched the boy shift around on the couch, trying to find a position that was comfortable.

"I just don't want to."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

Moving from his spot on the armchair, Giles moved to the couch and sat down. "Xander?"

"I just don't want to!" Xander yelled. He seemed to cave in on himself as he curled up into an upright ball, putting his hands over his ears.

Sliding closer, the librarian sort of covered Xander in a hug, his lips gently resting on the back of Xander's neck. "I just don't understand. Can't you help me understand, Xander?"

Suddenly, Xander sat up, forcing Giles back. "You want to understand? Join the club, because I'd like to understand too. I'd like to understand why *I* got the shit parents and Willow got Ward and June Cleaver. I want to know why everything bad happens to *me*. I'd like to understand why *I* get shit on all the time. Why do I get the father that likes to hit and the mother who thinks it's okay to. . ."

At the boy's abrupt halt of words, Giles studied him. Xander's head was down, his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight. "Go on, Xander. What about your mother?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Why don't you want to talk about it?"

Trying to move away from Giles, Xander was stopped by the armrest. "It's not something you talk about."

"At all?"

"At all," the boy confirmed.

"Ever?"

"Just stop, Giles," Xander pleaded in a whisper.

"I know that your dad beat you. What did your mum do?" Giles pressed. Xander stood up and moved to the armchair, but did not leave the room like Giles had first thought he would. "Xander?"

"I'm real tired, Giles. Maybe we could talk later."

Shaking his head, Giles replied, "I think we should keep talking now."

When Xander looked up, the librarian could see streams of endless tears running down the boy's face. "Giles, why are you doing this? Please stop." Quickly wiping away his tears, Xander said, "I don't want talk about this with you."

"Or with anyone, it seems."

"You have no idea."

"That's because you won't let me."

Wiping his cheeks with his hands, Xander licked his lips. "I want to go bed now."

"It's not but two in the afternoon."

"I'm tired." Closing his eyes and swallowing, Xander continued, "Sometimes I don't think I'll ever be anything but tired."

Taking off his glasses and resting them on his knee, the older man looked directly at Xander. "Are you afraid that I'm going to judge you about the things your parents did?"

"I judge myself by what they did," Xander whispered softly, "so why wouldn't you?"

"Because what they did is not who you are, Xander." Taking his glasses and setting them on the coffee table, Giles slid down the couch and sat on the edge so that he was nearer to the boy. "I can imagine them doing horrible thing. And I hope, I sincerely hope, that the things I imagine are not what they did. Nothing you could ever reveal to me about you or your past could ever make me change my thoughts or opinions about you. Nor could they sway my feelings."

Xander's breathing quickened as his legs bounced nervously. His jaw was clenched as his hands rubbed up and down on his thighs. After minutes of this, finally Xander said in a low voice, "I don't feel well, Giles." Standing up, Xander almost casually walked away from Giles, towards the bathroom.

Sighing, as he heard Xander in the bathroom, emptying his stomach into the toilet, Giles picked up his glasses and put them back on. "Dear Xander. What will we do with you?" he wondered to himself as he stood up, intending to attempt to help the retching boy in the bathroom.

~end~