*****
Dear Diary,
Well, Diary...today was another first. Again. Today was the first Independence Day since Anya died.
The whole gang got together at Buffy's house for a BBQ. It was sort of awkward and sort of good at the same time. I mean, it was comforting to be around a bunch of people who knew the truth, ya know? I guess it was more of a relief than I realized to not have to pretend that I was angry at some nameless hit and run driver. Instead, I could...I don't know, share time with people who had been there. Had *seen* Anya die at Glory's hands.
And this will sound horrible...but it was also comforting to know that they had been hurt too.
Not that I want them to suffer, because I don't. It's just that the sympathy was *real* and the dark look hidden in their eyes matched the haunted emptiness in mine. I hate fake sympathy and pretend understanding...almost as much as the pity of outsiders.
This was different though. This was my family...or what's left of it.
Anyway, we cooked up some dead animals dripping smoked hickory sauce and Buffy made potato salad and Willow made this great fruit mix thing. Very tasty. I got to work the grill and I did an excellent job of it, if I do say so myself.
Spike couldn't go outside, but he and Dawn set up this long table in the kitchen buffet style for the food and drinks and they got in some quality bonding time. Dawn loved every second of it...I think Spike did too.
It was...nice.
Then after it got dark, we all made our way to Miller's Pond where the town of Sunnydale was holding their annual July Fourth Fireworks Extravaganza. Giles and Spike both grumbled about being forcing to celebrate the "Colonist's Revolt Against the Crown", but I think it was just a bunch of, as Willow put it, "caplooy".
The display was beautiful.
At one point I was so entranced and content that I forgot and turned to point something out to Anya. She wasn't there and I just wanted to crumble into a ball of misery and die.
Spike was there though, and for one heart wrenching second I thought he was going to smirk and say something crass, but he didn't. He just reached into a deep inside pocket of his ever-present duster and pulled out a silver flask, shook it once, and then passed it over to me.
Two strong pulls of Sour Mash later and I went from wanting to die on the spot to wanting to go kill something. I was about to suggest we take off and go hunting, but luck is sometimes a perverse thing.
It was about that time that Buffy spotted a big ugly Gromath Demon and a large nest of minions and fledges that were apparently following it's lead. They had gotten the bright idea to use the fireworks to start a large fire as a distraction. Then when everyone was dashing about in confusion, they planned to grab as many people as they could to turn into vamps and build up their army. This Gromath Demon had ambition, I'll give it that.
So, being the good little Scoobies that we are, we helped Buffy take out the vamps while she tackled the Gromath Demon. Once more, during the heat of battle, that familiar insanity descended upon me. Those vamp's faces shifted and changed. Some became Glory's demonic henchmen...some had the distinct honor to become Glory herself. I staked every one that came near me in a towering fit of anger and pain.
When the dust literally settled to the ground, I found myself surrounded by my friends. They were all staring at me with varying degrees of shock and worry etched on their faces. Only Spike seemed unconcerned. At the time, I shrugged it off and ignored it. I merely turned to Spike and asked him if he was up for "patrol". He said sure and off we went, leaving Giles and the girls behind.
It's only now that I'm home and growing calm once again that I realize why they were so stunned back at Miller's Pond. It was the violence. *My* violence. I'm not the same old Xander anymore.
And now they know it too.
Alexander L. Harris
END