*****

I didn't know how to feel anymore. Some times I just got so mad at him even though it was not his fault. Other times I just got mad at myself for being so fucking useless. He was my lover, he was my husband and I couldn't do a damn thing for him except for stay next to him.

Xander got so sick, so fast that my head was spinning. The doctors didn't know exactly what was wrong with him but they felt confident that he wouldn't get better. I nearly kicked the shit out of them for saying that to me. They didn't know. They didn't know my Xander. He'd get better. He'd get better because I loved him and he loved me and we were soul mates and there is nothing truer in this world than that. God wouldn't let him die.

Tonight was one of his better nights. He was awake and coherent for most of it. "Devon," Xander whispered.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can you get me some water? My throat..."

"Of course," I said quickly, standing up from my chair by his bed. Reluctantly, I let go of his hand and took his water jug. I moved to the bathroom quickly, turning on the tap and letting the water run into the cup, still half full of ice. I glanced in the mirror and winced at what I saw. If my groupies could see me now.

My hair was unkempt and had what was rapidly becoming a beard on my face. Heavy, dark bags accentuated my eyes as new wrinkles set in. Hell, wasn't I only thirty-seven? A man my age shouldn't look like this. It was the worry over Xander that did it.

"Devon?" Xander called in his weak voice.

I stumbled out of the bathroom, angry with myself that I had let myself get so involved with my reflection that I made him worry. "I'm here, baby."

"Where'd you go?"

Sighing, I set the container down on the rollaway table and brushed back his hair. His short-term memory was nearly nonexistent. "I got you water. Isn't your throat dry?" He nodded and I smiled at him, trying to make the look of pain and confusion, which came to a head at his creased brow, disappear.

Xander's shaking hand moved to grasp the cup and I moved to help him lift it to his mouth. After Xander took several long gulps, we set it back down and he smiled at me. "Lay down with me."

Brushing the back of my hand against his cheek, I smiled back. "You know they don't like that. Remember? I got yelled at for it last time?"

Xander shook his head, his hand moving up to grasp mine. Pulling on it, he whispered, "They don't matter, Devon."

I nodded and watched his smile reappear as he shifted, moving over to one side of the small hospital bed to give me room to lay. When I had climbed up and had laid down on my back, Xander very carefully, very slowly, got himself situated so that he was lying on his side with his head resting on my upper arm. "You comfy?" He nodded. "So I talked to Willow today."

Xander gave a weak laugh. "You mean she's actually talking to you now? What has the world come to?"

I placed a soft kiss on his forehead before continuing. "She's going to fly down next weekend. She said she'd come earlier but Ashley's sick again."

"Did her son die?"

"Yeah," I answered, knowing that Xander's mind sometimes got a little muddled. "Both Ashley and Paul were sick as babies, you remember? Paul died a few months after he was born." I kissed his forehead again then said, "Anyway, she's going to fly down and spend a week with you. She says that everything is going well with her, besides Ashley being sick. Her job's going good, I guess."

He nodded, then tilted his head up towards me. "You and Willow had a conversation? I'm so proud. It only took me dying to make it happen."

Anger flooded me and I fought to keep it down; keep it hidden. It wasn't his fault he was sick, but did he have to keep making those offhanded comments about dying? He wasn't going to die, dammit, I wasn't going to let him. My breathing sped up as I fought not to yell at him. I hated that he forced me to think about a life without him.

"Dev?" he whispered and my anger faded. I looked down at him and saw a frightened expression.

"It's okay, baby."

He nodded, as if he understood exactly what was going on in my mind. "You talk to Oz too?"

Closing my eyes, I nodded. "Yeah."

"The band want to get back on the road?" Xander's voice conveyed his fears and I sighed. He thought I was going to leave him. After eighteen years, he still thought that there was some way I could leave him.

"Yeah. But they understand why I don't. We're on hiatus for an indefinite period of time, Xand. Apparently Susan and Jacob are having a hay day with publicity. It pisses me off. I don't want them using your illness as a way to sell more records."

"Just wait to see what they do when I die."

"Dammit, stop it!" I yelled. Instantly I regretted it when I say him wince. Wrapping him tightly in my arms, I whispered, "I'm sorry, baby. It's just... I don't want you talking like that. You're not going to die." Xander nodded as his eyes slipped closed. "Are you mad?"

"No, tired." After a few moments of silence, I thought he was asleep, but all of the sudden, his eyes popped open. "Sometimes I think about that little scratch in the paint."

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"The scratch on the door of our beach house. We really should have had that fixed." His eyes closed again and this time he really did fall asleep.

~**~

The next day Xander slept straight through, only waking when the nurse delivering dinner dropped the tray on the floor. It was plastic, so it didn't make much noise, but the damn nurse sure did. The little raven haired woman cussed up a storm. I would have glared at her and yelled at her for being a moron if I wasn't so happy that Xander woke up. I was almost beginning to think that he'd never wake up again.

"Devon?" he whispered, almost in a panic as his eyes darted around the room.

I went to him quickly, forgetting about the nurse and the spilled food. Gently, I brushed back his sweaty matted hair and smiled down at him. "Hey, baby. You need some water?"

Xander just closed his eyes and shook his head. "Lay with me."

I nodded silently and slipped into the bed next to him. He curled against me, pillowing his head on my chest and wrapping an arm around me. I noticed that his IV was dangerously close to being pulled out, so shifted him, or at least tried to shift him. He wouldn't budge. "Baby, your IV..."

"I miss making love with you, Devon. I miss feeling you."

"Oh, baby," I nearly sobbed as my heart constricted. I thought I would die at the sadness in his voice. "I miss making love with you too. But you'll get better and then we'll make love all day again."

"Do you love me?" he asked weakly and I fought to keep my voice calm as I answered him.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I love you. I've loved nothing but you since we met."

Craning my neck, I saw him smile softly. "I love you too." Silence loomed and I smiled as his heard his breathing. It was labored, but he was still breathing. After I moment, Xander pulled away from me a little, rising up as best he could on one elbow. "Devon, I'm tired."

Smiling, I cupped his cheek. "Then let's take a nap."

His eyelids drooped until his long black lashes nearly scraped his cheeks. "No, Devon, I mean, I'm tired."

My hand dropped from his face when I realized his meaning. "I'm not going to let you go, baby."

He smiled at me and chuckled softly. "This time I don't think you have a choice."

"The fuck I don't," I returned gruffly as I sat up, twisting myself until I was facing him.

He closed his eyes and laid back against the bed and I saw tears slip from his eyes. Immediately I hated myself. "Don't be mad, Dev. If it were up to me, you'd get a choice...and so would I, but it's not."

"Baby," I whispered softly as I moved down to lie next to him again. "I'm sorry." I kissed his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears. "Please don't talk about dying," I begged, the tears pouring from me. Through blurry vision, I saw his eyes open.

"What are you going to do without me?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Die."

Xander smiled and shook his head. "No. You're going to write wonderful songs, but first you'll probably go though one of your silent periods then you'll go out and have sex with a few groupies to try to forget. Then you'll feel like you've betrayed me and you'll cry for at least two days non stop. Then you'll brood and that's when you'll write those wonderful songs. You're the most creative when you're broody."

"You know me too well, baby."

I watched as he shook his head. "No. I know you just right." He smiled at me as his fingers brushed away my tears. "Just... When you have sex with the groupies, just be careful, alright? Or better yet, have sex with Oz. You two are so close. I know you love each other."

"No," I said firmly as I shook my head. "I only love you. You're the only one in my heart."

He smiled at me. "I'm glad I'm in your heart, but it's a pretty big place. It's too roomy just for me. Don't lock everyone else out just because I'm in there, okay?"

"Why are you so smart?"

"You know," he said as his smile widened. "In all of my thirty-six years, I think you're the first person to ask me that."

~**~

Two days later, I came out of the bathroom and sat down in my chair next to his bed. In the prior forty-eight hours, he'd only been awake for maybe two of those hours. The doctors became convinced that the end was near and as much as I wanted to believe that Xander would make a recovery and shock them all, I had finally resigned myself to losing him.

It wasn't until after I had been sitting for a few minutes that I noticed that I could barely hear the sound of him breathing in the quiet of the room. As soon as I stood up, I heard the heart monitor start to drone in that high pitched beep. Instantly, my heart began to race as I bent over my lover. I placed a hand over his heart as if the pressure would make it beat again. My other hand moved to his forehead and just rested there.

Not but a second later the nurses and doctors flew into the room. They moved me away from Xander, saying that I had to get away so they could work. They didn't just move me, they shoved me away. I didn't go far, I hovered behind them, chewing on my fingernails as they tried to make my husband live.

After what only seemed like five minutes, they stopped. Turning to me, Xander's doctor put his hand on my arm and gave me *that* look. I just shook my head and adopted a steely look. "Don't fucking say it. Just get out." He hesitated and I shoved him towards the door.

The other nurses and doctors just looked down, silently trying to collect their equipment. "Get out," I yelled, moving to the bed and shoving people back from his body.

I gave the cart with heart paddles a push towards the door and the small raven haired nurse said, "Sir, you're going to have to calm down."

I turned to her and leaned down, my face only an inch away from hers. "Get out now." Finally, they all left, closing the door behind them. I turned back to Xander and that's when I started to cry. While I had cautioned myself that he might die, I hadn't actually prepared for it. It all happened much too fast.

Moving back to the bed, I whispered, "Baby." My hands moved to his arm and removed the IV. I did it as gently as I could, even though Xander could no longer feel it. "Baby, come back," I whispered through my tears. "I need you to come back and be with me."

Not surprisingly, he did not respond. I moved him gently, making room on the bed. Silently, I slipped in next to him and I kissed his cheek, then his eyelids, then his mouth and neck. When I pulled back, his face was wet with my tears. Laying back, I pulled him to me until his head was pillowed on my upper arm. I moved one of his arms so that it encircled my waist as I hugged him tightly to my body.

He had just stopped breathing. He hadn't sputtered or gasped for breath; he just stopped. He was silent.

And that was how my Xander died.

~end~