Title: Very Little Closure

Author: meagan

Summary: Xander gets some news. Takes place about five years after the events in "Reversal" through "Special Guest Star." I think I need a name for this series. Suggestions, anyone?

Spoilers: Let's just say everything.

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. I could never some up with characters like this. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.

Rating: Let's say PG. Maybe PG-13. I'm guessing. I'm not good at this rating thing.

Distribution: Please ask. I'm not too sure anyone would really want it, though.

Feedback: Um, sure, I think. I'm not really a writer. I'm just trying to sort out what the voices in my head want me to do. There are just so *many* of them, telling me all sorts of different things, and I'm not sure which ones to listen to. Feedback would probably help. So would therapy, but I can't afford that right now, so I'll just try to keep on writing. The big question is this: Does anyone want to see any more of this?

Notes: More rain today. More melancholy writing. Hate me now -- I know, no Angel in this, but there's a reason, and that reason will probably be jumping up and down naked, screaming, "HERE'S WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN!" about halfway through. And it's pretty cheezy, but I needed this to happen in order to set the stage for other stuff. Oh, well. I had a crappy day at work. Databases are evil, especially when the people entering the information have been smoking the cheap crack. I keep telling them that the extra five bucks are worth it, but they never listen.

Reversal 8: Very Little Closure

by Meagan

The call arrived in the middle of the afternoon, not at two in the morning as would later seem appropriate.

"Xander? I need to talk to you."

Kim. He closed his eyes. They had dated for three years in college. Seriously enough to consider marriage. Then she walked out one spring afternoon the year before with no explanation. Just. . . gone. No goodbyes. No looking back. And they hadn't even been fighting that day. "What the hell do you want?"

Tense silence. "I want to explain --"

"It's a little late for that. Don't you agree? Wasn't it your idea?"

"Not exactly. My parents --"

"Oh, great. Didn't we have this discussion a hundred times already before you left? Your parents hate me, so there's no point in talking about them any more."

He could hear voices in the background. "Xander, my mom wants to talk to you."

Before he had a chance to object, Mrs. Burton's voice began. "Xander, please listen to her." The woman actually sounded like she was going to cry. "Just this one time, do this for me."

If the older woman was begging him, it must be something big. She owed him. "Okay. Five minutes."

His ex-girlfriend's voice came back on the line. He could hear her take a deep breath as if to steady herself. "Xander, when I left, there was something I didn't tell you. A big something. I was pregnant. With your child. Well, really, children."

He slowly realized that she was waiting for his reaction. And that he could breathe after all. "My. . . children?"

"Yes. Twins. A boy and a girl. But you were in no position to support a family. I didn't want to wonder for the rest of my life how things would have gone for you if you hadn't been saddled with a couple of ankle-biters. Besides, we weren't really that serious." Big sigh. Now for the heavy stuff. "So I lied about you -- told my parents that we had broken up weeks earlier and that the father was some guy I met at a party so I wouldn't have to hear lectures about how evil you were. Just how irresponsible I was."

Head spinning, he tentatively began, "So now the babies are. . ."

"Someone else has them. I went through a private lawyer. Adoption was the only answer. I couldn't handle the idea of putting them through a life with a poor single college dropout mom."

It was probably for the best, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "So why did you even go through with the pregnancy? I mean, you could have avoided this whole thing."

Heavy sigh. "I don't know. Really, I have no idea why I felt this. . . compulsion. It was like it was my reason for being here. My destiny." Damned tears.

Tears. Even during their worst fights, she had never cried. But he needed some more answers, so he adopted a soothing tone, as if he were calming a frightened puppy. "So why tell me now? I mean, we could have gone on with our lives, and I would have never known the difference. It's not like there's anything I can do about it now, right? I'm sure those two will be happy in whatever lives they have now. They have parents who wanted them." Now he was the one on the verge of tears. Parents who wanted their children. A novelty he was unacquainted with.

She understood the strain in his voice. "That's another reason I didn't keep them. I wanted them to have parents who adored them." Now came the really hard part. "Xander, I'm dying. Really. I didn't know it, but I had some health problems. The pregnancy and births just pushed my body to its limit. The doctors said that I would have had five years to live, but the babies just sped things along." She paused. "It's funny. Instead of being upset that they took those years away from me, I feel at peace about it. I'm not leaving this earth without leaving something behind. They didn't take that time from me. I gave it to them. Anyway, I was going to just send you a letter, but my parents wanted me to actually talk to you. They don't hate you. They just worried that I was rushing into things with you too quickly. They got married young, and they were afraid I was making the same mistake. Now they're grateful that you made me happy, even if it was only for a little while. And one of the things I had to agree to for the adoption -- that the adoptive family insisted on -- was that I would tell you this. And give you a way to get in touch with the people who adopted your children. They want you to be a part of their lives. You'd like them, Xander. It's a weird situation. My lawyer just about killed me -- two men and two women, all living together, and one of the men and one of the women are a couple, and the other two people aren't -- but when I got their letter asking for consideration as parents, I just knew they were right. And then when I met them, it was like I knew them already. I'm not sure what it was, but they reminded me of you. They even taped the births so you could see them if you wanted."

"So how old are they -- the babies -- now?"

"Just two months. I've got pictures of them. Xander, they're going to look like you. I just know it. And their parents are great -- all four of them, although, really, just the unattached guy seems like their dad.

Everyone else is like an aunt or uncle. These are going to be two very loved and spoiled kids."

Dazed, finally agreeing to meet with the adoptive parents, he wrote down the contact information for his children's adoptive parents' attorney. A Los Angeles number. He hadn't been there since he visited Cordelia and Angel five years ago. Angel. Memories he was trying to forget. And he had been doing very well at repressing until she mentioned the city. Returning to the present, he promised to contact the attorney. Finally, the ordeal came to a close. "Thank you. This whole time, I've thought you walked out just to hurt me. Now at least I know there was more going on. Now I don't feel like a complete loser." He tried for a light tone but failed.

"Promise me that you'll go see them. It seemed really, really important to the dad guy. Like his world would end if these kids didn't meet you. It was weird, but in a good way."

"Xander?" Kim's mom again. "Please do this. I don't know why I care about this so much, but I do. If you need money, we can pay for the ticket."

He grimaced. Leave it to that woman to bring up his former financial situation. But she didn't know how things were now, so he silently forgave her. "That's okay. I'm okay." Great, back to babbling. He hadn't done that in years. "Take care of her, please? You probably don't believe it, but I did care for her. *Do* care for her."

"I know. Thank you."

He hung up the phone, staring at the scrap of paper.

Maybe he'd call tomorrow.

Or maybe not.

~~~~ the end ~~~~