Fic: Fight the Dragons (Andrew/Xander)
Feb. 20th, 2005 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeTitle: "Fight the Dragons"
Author: Adrian
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine, just playing a bit, no real harm intended.
Distribution: my site
Spoilers: "Chosen"
Summary: Andrew is moving forward after moving to Cleveland.
Rating: R for talk of rape
Author's Notes: Yes, Howard the Duck is a real comic book character. The type of headsets that are used during the Monologues are the Clear Comm brand. These are pretty standard in most theatres and have a button that has to be pressed to speak and then pressed again when done so that the wearer doesn't trasmit other conversations over the headset.
"It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering."
- from "Trauma and Recovery" by Judith Herman, pages 7-8
******
It had taken them a week to reach Cleveland. It should've only taken them three days, but they had stopped a number of times. First, so they could all get checked out at the first hospital they came across. Then they stopped a number of times along the way to drop off some of the newly-made Slayers at their homes. They also helped others they came across to dispatch a particularly nasty demon and then give them a crash course in slaying.
During the trip, Andrew withdrew into himself. With nothing else to do on the long trip, memories of what Warren had done to him surfaced and replayed themselves in his mind. While the physical wounds had healed long ago, the emotional ones were still extremely raw, even now, more than a year later. The memory of the physical pain was enough to bring fresh tears to his eyes, which he quickly wiped away lest any of the others saw them, even though he was sure that they would mistake them for tears for the ones they had lost.
Andrew still couldn't believe Warren's betrayal of his trust and friendship. Warren had known that Andrew would follow him almost anywhere and that he had only raised objections because he didn't want any harm to come to any of them. He could have used any of a number of ways to make sure that Andrew didn't go to the police, why did he have to choose rape? Because it's such a simple and powerful silencer, that's why, a part of his brain replied. Why go for something big and overdone, like magic, when something very personal would do the job?
Most of the group didn't seem to notice or care that he had stopped babbling and now only gave monosyllabic answers or noncommittal noises whenever they talked to him. And, in a way, Andrew was glad. He didn't want to deal with them when it was hard enough trying to deal with what was going on inside his head. He was vaguely aware that Xander was keeping an eye on him and making sure he slept and ate, but he couldn't really find it in himself to care and was relieved that Xander didn't pry.
Once they hit Cleveland, the remainder of the group - Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Giles, Faith, Robin, Xander, Andrew, Amanda, and Rona - pooled the money they had on hand and got a couple of hotel rooms for a few days so they could decide what to do.
During the ensuing four days, Andrew was thankful he didn't have much time to himself as they scrambled to get a make-shift base of operations set up that would evolve into the U.S. base for the Council. Andrew, Xander, Robin, and Rona decided they would stay in the U.S., since the three men knew they wouldn't be of much help in getting the remainder of the Council to change its mind about a number of things. Rona decided to stay behind since it would benefit the men to have a Slayer who knew, to some extent, what she was doing, and how things felt, while they helped the new Slayers.
They were able to find two apartments in the same building and bought a used car. Andrew and Rona were able to get jobs at the cafe on the first floor of their building. Xander and Robin also put in applications for jobs - as a general construction supervisor's assistant and as an assistant principal, respectively.
They also did the best they could to get the word out that they could help "any girl or woman who had a sudden increase in strength and any other unnatural occurrences".
Willow and Andrew bought computer equipment so they could start a website to help new Slayers by answering questions and giving them advice on how to handle their new-found power. The primary section was for the girls in Cleveland and surrounding suburbs, but they made it clear that anyone could send in questions and that other areas would be covered in the near future. There was also the understanding that Andrew was to take over the website fully when Willow left for England, since she would have her hands full for a while helping Giles.
Giles, Buffy, Willow, and Faith made arrangements to go to London to reorganize the Council's main office, along with Dawn and Amanda. Giles figured strength in numbers would be good until they were able to assess how much resistance they would get from any remaining Watchers.
On the first of June, after a somewhat tearful good-bye, Xander, Andrew, Robin and Rona headed to meet with a Slayer. On the way, the foursome passed a girl who looked to be Xander's age yelling, "Stop the violence! Stop the violence!" and thrusting pamphlets into people's hands, including Andrew.
"Okay," Andrew replied, bewildered, as they kept walking.
"What is it?" Xander asked.
"It's a pamphlet about a rape center." Andrew discreetly shoved it into his pocket as they continued. He felt like he had been hit in the center of his chest. Not in a take-your-breath-away sort of way, but more in a "pay attention!" sort of way. But before he could dwell on it too long, they were at the coffee shop.
The Slayer wasn't hard to pick out once they entered - she was the only one who seemed to take notice of them. She looked to be about Rona's age and her clothes looked a bit worn, but not overly so, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She seemed tense and tired, but still very alert, as Andrew saw her eyes flit over each of them. Relief washed over her features as it seemed to dawn on her who they were as they made their way to her and introductions were made.
"How can we help you, Mara?" Robin asked as they sat down.
"Well, I heard that you were the ones to talk to about," she hesitated, "you know - *stuff*."
"Yes, we would be those people," Xander said with a smile as Andrew and Rona tried to stifle giggles. "You'll have to excuse these two, we're used to talking about it more openly. So what can we help you with specifically? Vampires? Something a little bigger and uglier? Possibly a spell or other magic? Sudden super-strength and quicker healing?"
"Uh..." She suddenly looked overwhelmed. "The last one? And does the sudden urge to kill, kill, kill count?"
"We can help you with both. Do you live nearby?"
"A couple bus stops away. You can really help me?"
"Yep. We can show you how to use your super-strength, safely kill, kill, kill to your heart's content and make the night a little less bumpy while you're doing it." Xander gave her a small smile.
"When do we start?"
"Well, we're still getting things set up, but we're over in the Bradley Building on West Sixth Street, whenever you want to stop by. And we'd appreciate it if you could help get the word out."
"No problem. But I need some time to figure some things out," Mara said as she stood. "Anything else?"
"Wear a cross, take this," he handed her a stake, "and if you get attacked by anything with fangs and a bumpy forehead, stake it in the heart. It won't be easy, but I'm sure you can do it. If you need any help, you know where to find us. And be careful after dark."
Mara smiled as she tucked the stake into the waistband of her pants at the small of her back and pulled her shirt over it. "I'll be sure to remember that. It was nice to meet all of you. And thanks."
After another two days of being pretty depressed, at least a little angry, and wondering if he should call the Weather Channel about the inner turmoil he was experiencing, the others started to take notice of Andrew's quietness. So he decided to take action. When he got a few minutes to himself, he pulled out the pamphlet he had received on the street and studied it. It listed various rape statistics and how to get help. On the back was the Cleveland Rape Crisis Center's phone numbers, address and hours. After staring at it for a while and debating, Andrew picked up the phone and called.
"Cleveland Rape Crisis Center, this is Sherry. How may I help you?" a cheerful voice answered the phone.
"Hi, uh, I'd like to talk with someone," Andrew replied.
"Would you like to have counseling done or should I transfer you over to our hotline?"
"Counselling would be good, I think." Andrew knew that what had happenened wouldn't go away just because he had talked with someone on a hotline - not that that wasn't a good option for other things. But if he did, they would probably just tell him to come in for counseling anyway.
"Okay. There's always someone here during the day, so whenever you want to come over, we can get you set up. Do you know how to get here?"
An hour later, after walking the short distance to the building, Andrew had to walk around the block a few times to calm his nerves. He knew this was the right thing to do, that things would be better after he started to heal, but...it was still hard. Warren still had a powerful hold over him, even after dying a horrible, point-of-no-return sort of death and more than a year passing between then and now. Andrew had to tell himself a number of times as he was psyching himself up enough to go inside that what he had seen after Warren's death wasn't Warren at all, but the First pretending to be Warren, which had also been defeated - maybe not by his own hands, but at least this time he had helped.
Andrew finally took a deep breath, entered the unassuming office building, found the right suite and went in. He went up the desk and said, "Hi. I, uh, called earlier. About counselling."
"Ah, yes," the woman said with a smile. She gave him some paperwork to fill out, after which she asked, "Would you like to speak with a man or a woman?"
"Man." Andrew wasn't sure why he said that, considering he had been raped by a man. The only feasible explanation was that he hoped that he would get someone like Mr. Giles or Xander.
"Okay, if you'll wait here, I'll see who's available." She went behind the closed door and returned a moment later with a man who looked to be in his early forties. 'Maybe not Mr. Giles,' he thought, 'but he'll do.'
"Welcome," the other man said as he offered his hand and said, "Steve Wright."
"Andrew Wells," Andrew replied, shaking his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Andrew. Let's go back to my office." Once in the office, Steve said, "Please make yourself comfortable." He shut the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack before saying, "Are you okay with the door being mostly closed?"
Andrew eyed the door before replying, "Yeah, it's fine."
He scanned the furniture in the room. A desk was on the opposite side of the room, facing the door with some comfortable looking chairs in front of it. There was a worn couch against the wall perpendicular to the door, with a leather recliner between the couch and the door, angled to face the couch that also looked like it had seen better days. Andrew chose to sit on the end of the couch that was the farthest from both the recliner and the door.
Steve sat down in the recliner and showed Andrew a small tape recorder. "I hope you don't mind, but I have to record our session as a matter of procedure."
"That's cool," Andrew replied.
"Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable, Andrew? Would you like me to tell you about myself?"
"Sure," Andrew shrugged.
"I'm a psychologist with a specialty in depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've been working here for the past five years. Prior to that, I worked in Cincinnati for ten years. And, obviously, whatever is said here stays here, unless I think you pose a danger to yourself or others." Andrew nodded. "So, the floor is yours for whatever you'd like to get off your chest."
Andrew took a couple of deep breaths, suddenly more nervous than he had expected to be, considering how much time he had spent outside getting himself under control. "I was raped when I lived out in California," he suddenly blurted out, his eyes glancing from the wall across from him to Steve before they fixed on the floor. "The final time was a little over a year ago." He took another deep breath and slowly let it out as he rubbed his hands over his knees. "Prior to that, it went on for about a year on a fairly regular basis. He's dead now, but I didn't do it." He looked at Steve and gave him a wan smile. "I feel like I'm at confessional."
"Do you feel better for telling?" Steve asked neutrally.
Andrew shrugged. "I don't know. It might take a while for it to sink in."
Steve nodded. "How do you feel now that you've had some time to deal with it on your own?"
"I don't know." Andrew idly itched his arm, then held onto the fabric of his shirt sleeve. "I didn't really think about it for a long time. Things were pretty crazy for a long time after it had stopped and when it did cross my mind, I just pushed it away." He paused for a moment, looking up at the wall behind Steve before looking at him. "But when I do think about it, I want to cry. And sometimes yell and break things, but usually cry."
Steve nodded. "Would you like to set up a schedule for counseling? It would help with the depression and anger."
"Yeah, I would. I think it's getting to be too much to handle. Plus, I just moved out here about a week ago, and I want it to be a completely fresh start. And I know I can't do that if I'm carrying this around with me."
Steve crossed to his desk and flipped a few pages in his Day Planner. "Want to start next Tuesday at three on a weekly basis?"
"Yeah, that sounds good," Andrew replied, also standing and going over to the desk.
Steve jotted it down in the Planner. "I think we got a good start today." He crossed his office again and opened the door and held out his hand. As Andrew approached and shook it, Steve said, "Have a good week."
"You too," Andrew replied as he turned to leave.
"Oh, Andrew, one more thing." Andrew turned back to him. "Even though it's been over a year, you should get checked by a doctor. That way you can be treated for any STDs."
"Okay. Could you maybe refer me to someone, since I'm new in the area?"
"Sure." Steve went back to his desk, shuffled some papers and pulled one out of a stack. After glancing over it, he handed it to Andrew.
"I got the job," Xander said as he and Andrew surveyed their mismatched furniture the next night. "So we can start getting new furniture when I get paid."
"That was fast, but cool," Andrew replied. "Is your boss okay with your eye?"
"Not totally, but he likes the work I've done and my eagerness to do the job. Think we should paint or something?"
"Something, at least," Andrew replied as he looked at the bare walls. "We got a couple more e-mails. We should do something with them."
Xander plopped down on the sofa. "I know. I just wish I knew where we could do our training."
"What about the gym in the basement? Rona says it's got an open area about the size of the one at the Magic Box and no one ever seems to use it."
"That's a good idea. I know we're all free on Friday at seven. How about then?"
"Okay. I'll get the word out and be the refreshment guy."
Xander stood and stretched. "All right. And I'll go tell Robin and Rona. We're going to need to plan this."
That Friday they only had a handful of girls, including Mara. The turnout wasn't very surprising, since there hadn't been much time to get the word out. In many ways it was just like dealing with the potentials all over again, yet the girls were more eager to learn. Xander gave them the "Into every generation..." speech he had heard from Giles numerous times, plus told them why things were different now and what they hoped to accomplish.
Then Robin and Rona showed them a bit of hand-to-hand combat before teaching them some simple blocks and punches. Andrew, true to his word, brought the refreshments and took the girls' information down, so that patrol teams might possibly be coordinated in the future. The girls seemed to enjoy the training session and smiles accompanied even the smallest successes.
By the end of the following week, the foursome had settled into a routine. They would work during the week, and sometimes Rona and Andrew would work on the weekend. Friday was the designated training night and Saturday was the designated bonding night between the four of them because they didn't want to lose the closeness they'd had in Sunnydale. There were also somewhat regular phone calls between the group in Cleveland and the group in London so everyone could get caught up at the same time and the necessary Council business could be dealt with.
Their weekly sessions with the girls were going well and growing as the word spread throughout the area. They also ended up adding another weekly training session for the non-Slayer friends of the girls who wanted to help out. They had girls from all over the city and Andrew was surprised that he recognized a few of them from the Crisis Center. He wasn't sure if they were survivors or simply volunteers and he didn't want to ask, but he was pretty sure at least one or two were survivors. Their confidence and self-esteem seemed to grow as they learned to defend themselves and become scarier than things that were normally the subject of scary stories.
And knowing that he had something in common with them made him feel a tiny bit better. Even if he wasn't comfortable broaching the subject with any of them, just knowing that they seemed to be moving on gave him a bit of hope.
They got e-mails on a fairly regular basis from girls in other cities and countries with questions about things they couldn't find on the site, or to thank them for the help. Andrew updated and expanded the site as Willow and Giles sent him information regarding the situations in different countries and, if possible, how to get in contact with trained Watchers or what to do if there wasn't one nearby. The site was also expanding as Willow and Giles had some of the Watchers-in-Training translate the site into other languages to make sure that the information would be as widely available as possible.
On a more personal level, Andrew continued his weekly sessions with Steve, who helped him work through the aftershocks of being raped by a trusted friend, as well as the grief over the loss of both Warren, which Steve assured him wasn't uncommon, and Jonathan. The details of each death were kept vague, though Andrew did admit to having played a part in Jonathan's "accidental" death. He also met with a doctor to be checked for STDs. Luckily, he had healed well and the test results came back negative.
Andrew did have to admit that having someone outside of the group to talk to who was able to help him deal with everything from the anxiety to the helplessness to the anger was a very good thing. There were still times when he was nervous about people getting too physically close to him or moments where he wanted to do nothing more than curl up in a ball and cry. But, overall, he felt much better about himself and was slowly coming to terms with what had happened.
"You're coming along well, Andrew," Steve said at the end of their last session in July. "And it sounds like you've got a good support system around you now."
"Do you think I should tell them?" Andrew asked.
"Do *you* think you should tell them?" Steve responded.
"Some day, sure. But I don't know. I don't want to lose them."
"Your fear is understandable, but they may just surprise you. When the time's right, you'll know." Steve gave him a warm smile. "We're going to be starting a new group therapy for men in about two weeks, and I'd like you to think about joining it in addition to our sessions. There's also a number of other things here, like the crisis hotline, that would be happy to have your help, and I think you're ready for it."
"I'll think about it."
As he walked home, Andrew's thoughts weren't on the Crisis Center, but on Xander. He was trying to figure out what to do about his friend and roommate. During the past two months they had naturally grown closer, considering they shared an apartment and spent a great deal of their free time together. And even though Andrew was still jumpy about physical contact, he did enjoy the time they spent together and was slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea that being touched wasn't always a bad thing.
Andrew also couldn't help but hope that Xander might actually like him as more than a friend. Even though, as far as he knew, Xander was straight. But he couldn't deny the small gestures and considerations that Xander always seemed to make for and toward him. He knew that this didn't make Xander gay and that Xander had always simply been very intuitive about the needs of those around him. There were times, though, when Andrew wasn't completely sure. More than once, he had caught Xander staring at him, and the older man didn't immediately look away. Or a safe touch that lingered for a little longer than necessary, but never long enough to set off Andrew's internal alarm.
Andrew had to admit he did have something of a crush on Xander, though it might be closer to hero worship. Even though Xander had lost an eye, he always seemed to know the right answer for everything, the solution to fix things, the right thing to say to a Slayer or one of her friends, or even to him, Andrew. But whatever it was, crush or idol worship, Andrew felt safe with Xander and liked being with him a lot, and he always enjoyed seeing Xander happy.
A week later, Andrew woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and gasping for air. As his breathing slowed, he noticed Xander was leaning against the doorframe.
"Everything all right?" Xander asked.
Andrew nodded as his breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry for waking you," he replied.
"Don't worry about it. We all have bad dreams. Want to talk about it?"
Andrew shrugged. He knew that if he did, it would lead into telling about Warren and then Xander would push him away. But if he didn't, he knew that even though Xander would stay his friend, he wouldn't be able to get his mind off the dream. And he knew that, as Steve kept reminding him, Warren now only had as much power as Andrew gave him and he was sick of being powerless.
He decided to take a chance. "It was more of a memory of stuff with Warren. You can come in, if you'd like."
Xander came in and sat at the foot of the bed. "I thought you enjoyed the mayhem and destruction."
"Some of it, I did. But there was other...stuff that wasn't quite as cool."
"'The real story of Andrew Wells, evil mastermind extraordinaire, details at 2:30 am'," Xander quipped as he stretched on his back, feet towards the pillows and head pillowed on his hands against the footboard.
Andrew gave him a half-hearted smile. "Please, don't."
"I'm sorry." Xander instantly sobered. "I hadn't meant..." He trailed off. "Please, continue, if you want."
"Well, there's no good or easy way to say it, so here it is." Andrew paused to take a deep breath and lick his lips, steeling himself for Xander's censure. "I was raped a number of times by Warren. And the dream was just a bunch of memories."
"The bastard," Xander said vehemently, sitting up. Touching Andrew's knee, he said, "How are you doing? Is there anything I can do?"
Andrew shrugged. "I'm doing okay. I'm getting therapy at the Rape Crisis Center a few blocks away. And you can be my friend."
"I can do that."
"Good, because I need it."
"But are you sure there's nothing else I can do?"
"No," Andrew replied firmly, even though the idea of having Xander work out a way to deal with this was tempting. "Just be supportive and don't try to run my life or fix things - unless I ask you to."
"Okay, I'll try. You sure you don't want to talk about it some more?"
"You better." Andrew smiled. "But not at 2:30 in the morning. Now get back to bed so you can get up for work."
"I told Xander," Andrew said as his introductory remark the next day at therapy.
"How'd he take it?" Steve asked.
"Really well. I think he wishes he could do more."
"That's how it usually is with us outsiders. Are you satisfied that you told him?"
"Yeah, I am." And Andrew genuinely did feel better. Now that the rapes weren't hanging between him and Xander, he didn't feel quite as on edge, afraid of what would happen if Xander, Robin, and Rona had found out from someone else. He knew that Xander wouldn't say anything to the other two or the girls, and let him do it at his own discretion.
"Do you have feelings towards him?"
"I don't know. I guess so. He's a great guy - and straight, even though I feel like I'm getting signals from him every once in a while."
"Do you think he does it intentionally? And do you mind that he does it?"
"I don't know, really. But no, I don't mind. It's kind of nice, actually, in a 'maybe there's still hope' sort of way." Andrew looked at Steve questioningly. "Is it okay to have a crush on him?"
Steve smiled. "Yes, it's okay to have a crush on him. I would advise you, though, to be careful in pursuing a relationship. Not that you can't, or shouldn't, be happy whenever possible. Just make sure that you're ready for a relationship and go into it because it's good for you, not because it's convenient and allows you to shy away from being healed."
"Okay."
Andrew became more involved with the Rape Crisis Center and took the training session so that he could help out with the Hotline. While it wasn't easy, it was therapeutic in a way since he knew he was able to help others.
"Hey," Miranda said one day in late August as she turned in her chair between phone calls. She was another rape survivor that Andrew had met at the Center, who was involved in practically everything there. "A bunch of us are going to put on a show of the Vagina Monologues as a fundraiser and to help raise awareness. Want to help?"
Andrew leaned back in his chair, partially interested. "Sure. But isn't that supposed to be a girl thing?"
"Yeah, normally." She shrugged nonchalantly. "But I've seen guys perform in it, too. You could even write your own monologue, if you wanted."
Andrew started to fidget in his seat and roll his pen around. "I don't know about the whole monologue thing."
She shrugged as she pulled the hairband out of her hair to fix her ponytail. "That's cool. You don't have to unless you want to. Just let us know in time, okay?"
"Okay." Andrew had to admit that his interest was piqued. "So, what do you want me to do?"
"Are you good with organization and responsibility?"
"Yeah."
"Are you a good people person?"
"I...guess so."
"Want to be stage manager?"
Andrew raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if I'm *that* good."
Miranda waved a hand dismissively. "It should be a piece of cake. Since it's monologues, you'll mostly just have to make sure the girls know when the few group practices will be and making sure everything's in order backstage."
Andrew leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands. "And when is it happening?"
Her phone rang. "There's an interest meeting Sunday night, seven p.m.," she said before answering it.
"I heard you had a nightmare a while back," Rona said the following Saturday night as the four friends were setting up a Monopoly board in Xander and Andrew's apartment. "Are you still having them?"
"It was just some stuff with Warren," Andrew replied, a bit reluctant to say, even though he did want to get it off his chest.
"You don't have -," Xander said quietly.
"I know," Andrew cut him off and looked at him pointedly. "But I want to." He took a deep breath as he finished organizing the money before looking at Robin and Rona. "The back story's that before the First, I hung out with these two guys - Warren and Jonathan - and we did some kind of bad stuff. It wasn't that bad in the beginning, but when it did get bad, I tried to get Warren, who was the leader, to stop and he raped me. He did it a few more times before he was killed by Willow for killing Tara. The nightmare was a bunch of memories." Telling what had happened was easier this time. It still hurt, but it wasn't as scary as when he had told Steve or Xander - probably because of the therapy and because Xander hadn't turned him away.
"That's evil," Rona replied. "Why didn't you go to the police or something?"
"Because I would've gotten in trouble for what I did with them. And I didn't want Jonathan getting in trouble. Plus, I would probably get the one cop who hates gays and thinks that it's justice if we get raped, even -" Andrew took another deep breath, a bit of fear creeping in at the thought of a "what if?", and Xander put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"When it's not about sex or sexual orientation, it's about power," Robin replied quietly.
Andrew nodded, thankful that he understood. "And before anyone asks, I'm doing okay. I didn't catch anything from him and I'm in therapy now."
"If there's anything we can do, let us know, okay?" Robin asked.
Andrew nodded as Rona said, "Warren better be glad he's dead, or I'd go back there and kick his ass, hole in the ground or not."
"Thanks." Andrew smiled, unable to express exactly how he felt at his friends' acceptance.
Author: Adrian
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine, just playing a bit, no real harm intended.
Distribution: my site
Spoilers: "Chosen"
Summary: Andrew is moving forward after moving to Cleveland.
Rating: R for talk of rape
Author's Notes: Yes, Howard the Duck is a real comic book character. The type of headsets that are used during the Monologues are the Clear Comm brand. These are pretty standard in most theatres and have a button that has to be pressed to speak and then pressed again when done so that the wearer doesn't trasmit other conversations over the headset.
"It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering."
- from "Trauma and Recovery" by Judith Herman, pages 7-8
******
It had taken them a week to reach Cleveland. It should've only taken them three days, but they had stopped a number of times. First, so they could all get checked out at the first hospital they came across. Then they stopped a number of times along the way to drop off some of the newly-made Slayers at their homes. They also helped others they came across to dispatch a particularly nasty demon and then give them a crash course in slaying.
During the trip, Andrew withdrew into himself. With nothing else to do on the long trip, memories of what Warren had done to him surfaced and replayed themselves in his mind. While the physical wounds had healed long ago, the emotional ones were still extremely raw, even now, more than a year later. The memory of the physical pain was enough to bring fresh tears to his eyes, which he quickly wiped away lest any of the others saw them, even though he was sure that they would mistake them for tears for the ones they had lost.
Andrew still couldn't believe Warren's betrayal of his trust and friendship. Warren had known that Andrew would follow him almost anywhere and that he had only raised objections because he didn't want any harm to come to any of them. He could have used any of a number of ways to make sure that Andrew didn't go to the police, why did he have to choose rape? Because it's such a simple and powerful silencer, that's why, a part of his brain replied. Why go for something big and overdone, like magic, when something very personal would do the job?
Most of the group didn't seem to notice or care that he had stopped babbling and now only gave monosyllabic answers or noncommittal noises whenever they talked to him. And, in a way, Andrew was glad. He didn't want to deal with them when it was hard enough trying to deal with what was going on inside his head. He was vaguely aware that Xander was keeping an eye on him and making sure he slept and ate, but he couldn't really find it in himself to care and was relieved that Xander didn't pry.
Once they hit Cleveland, the remainder of the group - Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Giles, Faith, Robin, Xander, Andrew, Amanda, and Rona - pooled the money they had on hand and got a couple of hotel rooms for a few days so they could decide what to do.
During the ensuing four days, Andrew was thankful he didn't have much time to himself as they scrambled to get a make-shift base of operations set up that would evolve into the U.S. base for the Council. Andrew, Xander, Robin, and Rona decided they would stay in the U.S., since the three men knew they wouldn't be of much help in getting the remainder of the Council to change its mind about a number of things. Rona decided to stay behind since it would benefit the men to have a Slayer who knew, to some extent, what she was doing, and how things felt, while they helped the new Slayers.
They were able to find two apartments in the same building and bought a used car. Andrew and Rona were able to get jobs at the cafe on the first floor of their building. Xander and Robin also put in applications for jobs - as a general construction supervisor's assistant and as an assistant principal, respectively.
They also did the best they could to get the word out that they could help "any girl or woman who had a sudden increase in strength and any other unnatural occurrences".
Willow and Andrew bought computer equipment so they could start a website to help new Slayers by answering questions and giving them advice on how to handle their new-found power. The primary section was for the girls in Cleveland and surrounding suburbs, but they made it clear that anyone could send in questions and that other areas would be covered in the near future. There was also the understanding that Andrew was to take over the website fully when Willow left for England, since she would have her hands full for a while helping Giles.
Giles, Buffy, Willow, and Faith made arrangements to go to London to reorganize the Council's main office, along with Dawn and Amanda. Giles figured strength in numbers would be good until they were able to assess how much resistance they would get from any remaining Watchers.
On the first of June, after a somewhat tearful good-bye, Xander, Andrew, Robin and Rona headed to meet with a Slayer. On the way, the foursome passed a girl who looked to be Xander's age yelling, "Stop the violence! Stop the violence!" and thrusting pamphlets into people's hands, including Andrew.
"Okay," Andrew replied, bewildered, as they kept walking.
"What is it?" Xander asked.
"It's a pamphlet about a rape center." Andrew discreetly shoved it into his pocket as they continued. He felt like he had been hit in the center of his chest. Not in a take-your-breath-away sort of way, but more in a "pay attention!" sort of way. But before he could dwell on it too long, they were at the coffee shop.
The Slayer wasn't hard to pick out once they entered - she was the only one who seemed to take notice of them. She looked to be about Rona's age and her clothes looked a bit worn, but not overly so, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She seemed tense and tired, but still very alert, as Andrew saw her eyes flit over each of them. Relief washed over her features as it seemed to dawn on her who they were as they made their way to her and introductions were made.
"How can we help you, Mara?" Robin asked as they sat down.
"Well, I heard that you were the ones to talk to about," she hesitated, "you know - *stuff*."
"Yes, we would be those people," Xander said with a smile as Andrew and Rona tried to stifle giggles. "You'll have to excuse these two, we're used to talking about it more openly. So what can we help you with specifically? Vampires? Something a little bigger and uglier? Possibly a spell or other magic? Sudden super-strength and quicker healing?"
"Uh..." She suddenly looked overwhelmed. "The last one? And does the sudden urge to kill, kill, kill count?"
"We can help you with both. Do you live nearby?"
"A couple bus stops away. You can really help me?"
"Yep. We can show you how to use your super-strength, safely kill, kill, kill to your heart's content and make the night a little less bumpy while you're doing it." Xander gave her a small smile.
"When do we start?"
"Well, we're still getting things set up, but we're over in the Bradley Building on West Sixth Street, whenever you want to stop by. And we'd appreciate it if you could help get the word out."
"No problem. But I need some time to figure some things out," Mara said as she stood. "Anything else?"
"Wear a cross, take this," he handed her a stake, "and if you get attacked by anything with fangs and a bumpy forehead, stake it in the heart. It won't be easy, but I'm sure you can do it. If you need any help, you know where to find us. And be careful after dark."
Mara smiled as she tucked the stake into the waistband of her pants at the small of her back and pulled her shirt over it. "I'll be sure to remember that. It was nice to meet all of you. And thanks."
After another two days of being pretty depressed, at least a little angry, and wondering if he should call the Weather Channel about the inner turmoil he was experiencing, the others started to take notice of Andrew's quietness. So he decided to take action. When he got a few minutes to himself, he pulled out the pamphlet he had received on the street and studied it. It listed various rape statistics and how to get help. On the back was the Cleveland Rape Crisis Center's phone numbers, address and hours. After staring at it for a while and debating, Andrew picked up the phone and called.
"Cleveland Rape Crisis Center, this is Sherry. How may I help you?" a cheerful voice answered the phone.
"Hi, uh, I'd like to talk with someone," Andrew replied.
"Would you like to have counseling done or should I transfer you over to our hotline?"
"Counselling would be good, I think." Andrew knew that what had happenened wouldn't go away just because he had talked with someone on a hotline - not that that wasn't a good option for other things. But if he did, they would probably just tell him to come in for counseling anyway.
"Okay. There's always someone here during the day, so whenever you want to come over, we can get you set up. Do you know how to get here?"
An hour later, after walking the short distance to the building, Andrew had to walk around the block a few times to calm his nerves. He knew this was the right thing to do, that things would be better after he started to heal, but...it was still hard. Warren still had a powerful hold over him, even after dying a horrible, point-of-no-return sort of death and more than a year passing between then and now. Andrew had to tell himself a number of times as he was psyching himself up enough to go inside that what he had seen after Warren's death wasn't Warren at all, but the First pretending to be Warren, which had also been defeated - maybe not by his own hands, but at least this time he had helped.
Andrew finally took a deep breath, entered the unassuming office building, found the right suite and went in. He went up the desk and said, "Hi. I, uh, called earlier. About counselling."
"Ah, yes," the woman said with a smile. She gave him some paperwork to fill out, after which she asked, "Would you like to speak with a man or a woman?"
"Man." Andrew wasn't sure why he said that, considering he had been raped by a man. The only feasible explanation was that he hoped that he would get someone like Mr. Giles or Xander.
"Okay, if you'll wait here, I'll see who's available." She went behind the closed door and returned a moment later with a man who looked to be in his early forties. 'Maybe not Mr. Giles,' he thought, 'but he'll do.'
"Welcome," the other man said as he offered his hand and said, "Steve Wright."
"Andrew Wells," Andrew replied, shaking his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Andrew. Let's go back to my office." Once in the office, Steve said, "Please make yourself comfortable." He shut the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack before saying, "Are you okay with the door being mostly closed?"
Andrew eyed the door before replying, "Yeah, it's fine."
He scanned the furniture in the room. A desk was on the opposite side of the room, facing the door with some comfortable looking chairs in front of it. There was a worn couch against the wall perpendicular to the door, with a leather recliner between the couch and the door, angled to face the couch that also looked like it had seen better days. Andrew chose to sit on the end of the couch that was the farthest from both the recliner and the door.
Steve sat down in the recliner and showed Andrew a small tape recorder. "I hope you don't mind, but I have to record our session as a matter of procedure."
"That's cool," Andrew replied.
"Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable, Andrew? Would you like me to tell you about myself?"
"Sure," Andrew shrugged.
"I'm a psychologist with a specialty in depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've been working here for the past five years. Prior to that, I worked in Cincinnati for ten years. And, obviously, whatever is said here stays here, unless I think you pose a danger to yourself or others." Andrew nodded. "So, the floor is yours for whatever you'd like to get off your chest."
Andrew took a couple of deep breaths, suddenly more nervous than he had expected to be, considering how much time he had spent outside getting himself under control. "I was raped when I lived out in California," he suddenly blurted out, his eyes glancing from the wall across from him to Steve before they fixed on the floor. "The final time was a little over a year ago." He took another deep breath and slowly let it out as he rubbed his hands over his knees. "Prior to that, it went on for about a year on a fairly regular basis. He's dead now, but I didn't do it." He looked at Steve and gave him a wan smile. "I feel like I'm at confessional."
"Do you feel better for telling?" Steve asked neutrally.
Andrew shrugged. "I don't know. It might take a while for it to sink in."
Steve nodded. "How do you feel now that you've had some time to deal with it on your own?"
"I don't know." Andrew idly itched his arm, then held onto the fabric of his shirt sleeve. "I didn't really think about it for a long time. Things were pretty crazy for a long time after it had stopped and when it did cross my mind, I just pushed it away." He paused for a moment, looking up at the wall behind Steve before looking at him. "But when I do think about it, I want to cry. And sometimes yell and break things, but usually cry."
Steve nodded. "Would you like to set up a schedule for counseling? It would help with the depression and anger."
"Yeah, I would. I think it's getting to be too much to handle. Plus, I just moved out here about a week ago, and I want it to be a completely fresh start. And I know I can't do that if I'm carrying this around with me."
Steve crossed to his desk and flipped a few pages in his Day Planner. "Want to start next Tuesday at three on a weekly basis?"
"Yeah, that sounds good," Andrew replied, also standing and going over to the desk.
Steve jotted it down in the Planner. "I think we got a good start today." He crossed his office again and opened the door and held out his hand. As Andrew approached and shook it, Steve said, "Have a good week."
"You too," Andrew replied as he turned to leave.
"Oh, Andrew, one more thing." Andrew turned back to him. "Even though it's been over a year, you should get checked by a doctor. That way you can be treated for any STDs."
"Okay. Could you maybe refer me to someone, since I'm new in the area?"
"Sure." Steve went back to his desk, shuffled some papers and pulled one out of a stack. After glancing over it, he handed it to Andrew.
"I got the job," Xander said as he and Andrew surveyed their mismatched furniture the next night. "So we can start getting new furniture when I get paid."
"That was fast, but cool," Andrew replied. "Is your boss okay with your eye?"
"Not totally, but he likes the work I've done and my eagerness to do the job. Think we should paint or something?"
"Something, at least," Andrew replied as he looked at the bare walls. "We got a couple more e-mails. We should do something with them."
Xander plopped down on the sofa. "I know. I just wish I knew where we could do our training."
"What about the gym in the basement? Rona says it's got an open area about the size of the one at the Magic Box and no one ever seems to use it."
"That's a good idea. I know we're all free on Friday at seven. How about then?"
"Okay. I'll get the word out and be the refreshment guy."
Xander stood and stretched. "All right. And I'll go tell Robin and Rona. We're going to need to plan this."
That Friday they only had a handful of girls, including Mara. The turnout wasn't very surprising, since there hadn't been much time to get the word out. In many ways it was just like dealing with the potentials all over again, yet the girls were more eager to learn. Xander gave them the "Into every generation..." speech he had heard from Giles numerous times, plus told them why things were different now and what they hoped to accomplish.
Then Robin and Rona showed them a bit of hand-to-hand combat before teaching them some simple blocks and punches. Andrew, true to his word, brought the refreshments and took the girls' information down, so that patrol teams might possibly be coordinated in the future. The girls seemed to enjoy the training session and smiles accompanied even the smallest successes.
By the end of the following week, the foursome had settled into a routine. They would work during the week, and sometimes Rona and Andrew would work on the weekend. Friday was the designated training night and Saturday was the designated bonding night between the four of them because they didn't want to lose the closeness they'd had in Sunnydale. There were also somewhat regular phone calls between the group in Cleveland and the group in London so everyone could get caught up at the same time and the necessary Council business could be dealt with.
Their weekly sessions with the girls were going well and growing as the word spread throughout the area. They also ended up adding another weekly training session for the non-Slayer friends of the girls who wanted to help out. They had girls from all over the city and Andrew was surprised that he recognized a few of them from the Crisis Center. He wasn't sure if they were survivors or simply volunteers and he didn't want to ask, but he was pretty sure at least one or two were survivors. Their confidence and self-esteem seemed to grow as they learned to defend themselves and become scarier than things that were normally the subject of scary stories.
And knowing that he had something in common with them made him feel a tiny bit better. Even if he wasn't comfortable broaching the subject with any of them, just knowing that they seemed to be moving on gave him a bit of hope.
They got e-mails on a fairly regular basis from girls in other cities and countries with questions about things they couldn't find on the site, or to thank them for the help. Andrew updated and expanded the site as Willow and Giles sent him information regarding the situations in different countries and, if possible, how to get in contact with trained Watchers or what to do if there wasn't one nearby. The site was also expanding as Willow and Giles had some of the Watchers-in-Training translate the site into other languages to make sure that the information would be as widely available as possible.
On a more personal level, Andrew continued his weekly sessions with Steve, who helped him work through the aftershocks of being raped by a trusted friend, as well as the grief over the loss of both Warren, which Steve assured him wasn't uncommon, and Jonathan. The details of each death were kept vague, though Andrew did admit to having played a part in Jonathan's "accidental" death. He also met with a doctor to be checked for STDs. Luckily, he had healed well and the test results came back negative.
Andrew did have to admit that having someone outside of the group to talk to who was able to help him deal with everything from the anxiety to the helplessness to the anger was a very good thing. There were still times when he was nervous about people getting too physically close to him or moments where he wanted to do nothing more than curl up in a ball and cry. But, overall, he felt much better about himself and was slowly coming to terms with what had happened.
"You're coming along well, Andrew," Steve said at the end of their last session in July. "And it sounds like you've got a good support system around you now."
"Do you think I should tell them?" Andrew asked.
"Do *you* think you should tell them?" Steve responded.
"Some day, sure. But I don't know. I don't want to lose them."
"Your fear is understandable, but they may just surprise you. When the time's right, you'll know." Steve gave him a warm smile. "We're going to be starting a new group therapy for men in about two weeks, and I'd like you to think about joining it in addition to our sessions. There's also a number of other things here, like the crisis hotline, that would be happy to have your help, and I think you're ready for it."
"I'll think about it."
As he walked home, Andrew's thoughts weren't on the Crisis Center, but on Xander. He was trying to figure out what to do about his friend and roommate. During the past two months they had naturally grown closer, considering they shared an apartment and spent a great deal of their free time together. And even though Andrew was still jumpy about physical contact, he did enjoy the time they spent together and was slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea that being touched wasn't always a bad thing.
Andrew also couldn't help but hope that Xander might actually like him as more than a friend. Even though, as far as he knew, Xander was straight. But he couldn't deny the small gestures and considerations that Xander always seemed to make for and toward him. He knew that this didn't make Xander gay and that Xander had always simply been very intuitive about the needs of those around him. There were times, though, when Andrew wasn't completely sure. More than once, he had caught Xander staring at him, and the older man didn't immediately look away. Or a safe touch that lingered for a little longer than necessary, but never long enough to set off Andrew's internal alarm.
Andrew had to admit he did have something of a crush on Xander, though it might be closer to hero worship. Even though Xander had lost an eye, he always seemed to know the right answer for everything, the solution to fix things, the right thing to say to a Slayer or one of her friends, or even to him, Andrew. But whatever it was, crush or idol worship, Andrew felt safe with Xander and liked being with him a lot, and he always enjoyed seeing Xander happy.
A week later, Andrew woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and gasping for air. As his breathing slowed, he noticed Xander was leaning against the doorframe.
"Everything all right?" Xander asked.
Andrew nodded as his breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry for waking you," he replied.
"Don't worry about it. We all have bad dreams. Want to talk about it?"
Andrew shrugged. He knew that if he did, it would lead into telling about Warren and then Xander would push him away. But if he didn't, he knew that even though Xander would stay his friend, he wouldn't be able to get his mind off the dream. And he knew that, as Steve kept reminding him, Warren now only had as much power as Andrew gave him and he was sick of being powerless.
He decided to take a chance. "It was more of a memory of stuff with Warren. You can come in, if you'd like."
Xander came in and sat at the foot of the bed. "I thought you enjoyed the mayhem and destruction."
"Some of it, I did. But there was other...stuff that wasn't quite as cool."
"'The real story of Andrew Wells, evil mastermind extraordinaire, details at 2:30 am'," Xander quipped as he stretched on his back, feet towards the pillows and head pillowed on his hands against the footboard.
Andrew gave him a half-hearted smile. "Please, don't."
"I'm sorry." Xander instantly sobered. "I hadn't meant..." He trailed off. "Please, continue, if you want."
"Well, there's no good or easy way to say it, so here it is." Andrew paused to take a deep breath and lick his lips, steeling himself for Xander's censure. "I was raped a number of times by Warren. And the dream was just a bunch of memories."
"The bastard," Xander said vehemently, sitting up. Touching Andrew's knee, he said, "How are you doing? Is there anything I can do?"
Andrew shrugged. "I'm doing okay. I'm getting therapy at the Rape Crisis Center a few blocks away. And you can be my friend."
"I can do that."
"Good, because I need it."
"But are you sure there's nothing else I can do?"
"No," Andrew replied firmly, even though the idea of having Xander work out a way to deal with this was tempting. "Just be supportive and don't try to run my life or fix things - unless I ask you to."
"Okay, I'll try. You sure you don't want to talk about it some more?"
"You better." Andrew smiled. "But not at 2:30 in the morning. Now get back to bed so you can get up for work."
"I told Xander," Andrew said as his introductory remark the next day at therapy.
"How'd he take it?" Steve asked.
"Really well. I think he wishes he could do more."
"That's how it usually is with us outsiders. Are you satisfied that you told him?"
"Yeah, I am." And Andrew genuinely did feel better. Now that the rapes weren't hanging between him and Xander, he didn't feel quite as on edge, afraid of what would happen if Xander, Robin, and Rona had found out from someone else. He knew that Xander wouldn't say anything to the other two or the girls, and let him do it at his own discretion.
"Do you have feelings towards him?"
"I don't know. I guess so. He's a great guy - and straight, even though I feel like I'm getting signals from him every once in a while."
"Do you think he does it intentionally? And do you mind that he does it?"
"I don't know, really. But no, I don't mind. It's kind of nice, actually, in a 'maybe there's still hope' sort of way." Andrew looked at Steve questioningly. "Is it okay to have a crush on him?"
Steve smiled. "Yes, it's okay to have a crush on him. I would advise you, though, to be careful in pursuing a relationship. Not that you can't, or shouldn't, be happy whenever possible. Just make sure that you're ready for a relationship and go into it because it's good for you, not because it's convenient and allows you to shy away from being healed."
"Okay."
Andrew became more involved with the Rape Crisis Center and took the training session so that he could help out with the Hotline. While it wasn't easy, it was therapeutic in a way since he knew he was able to help others.
"Hey," Miranda said one day in late August as she turned in her chair between phone calls. She was another rape survivor that Andrew had met at the Center, who was involved in practically everything there. "A bunch of us are going to put on a show of the Vagina Monologues as a fundraiser and to help raise awareness. Want to help?"
Andrew leaned back in his chair, partially interested. "Sure. But isn't that supposed to be a girl thing?"
"Yeah, normally." She shrugged nonchalantly. "But I've seen guys perform in it, too. You could even write your own monologue, if you wanted."
Andrew started to fidget in his seat and roll his pen around. "I don't know about the whole monologue thing."
She shrugged as she pulled the hairband out of her hair to fix her ponytail. "That's cool. You don't have to unless you want to. Just let us know in time, okay?"
"Okay." Andrew had to admit that his interest was piqued. "So, what do you want me to do?"
"Are you good with organization and responsibility?"
"Yeah."
"Are you a good people person?"
"I...guess so."
"Want to be stage manager?"
Andrew raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if I'm *that* good."
Miranda waved a hand dismissively. "It should be a piece of cake. Since it's monologues, you'll mostly just have to make sure the girls know when the few group practices will be and making sure everything's in order backstage."
Andrew leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands. "And when is it happening?"
Her phone rang. "There's an interest meeting Sunday night, seven p.m.," she said before answering it.
"I heard you had a nightmare a while back," Rona said the following Saturday night as the four friends were setting up a Monopoly board in Xander and Andrew's apartment. "Are you still having them?"
"It was just some stuff with Warren," Andrew replied, a bit reluctant to say, even though he did want to get it off his chest.
"You don't have -," Xander said quietly.
"I know," Andrew cut him off and looked at him pointedly. "But I want to." He took a deep breath as he finished organizing the money before looking at Robin and Rona. "The back story's that before the First, I hung out with these two guys - Warren and Jonathan - and we did some kind of bad stuff. It wasn't that bad in the beginning, but when it did get bad, I tried to get Warren, who was the leader, to stop and he raped me. He did it a few more times before he was killed by Willow for killing Tara. The nightmare was a bunch of memories." Telling what had happened was easier this time. It still hurt, but it wasn't as scary as when he had told Steve or Xander - probably because of the therapy and because Xander hadn't turned him away.
"That's evil," Rona replied. "Why didn't you go to the police or something?"
"Because I would've gotten in trouble for what I did with them. And I didn't want Jonathan getting in trouble. Plus, I would probably get the one cop who hates gays and thinks that it's justice if we get raped, even -" Andrew took another deep breath, a bit of fear creeping in at the thought of a "what if?", and Xander put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"When it's not about sex or sexual orientation, it's about power," Robin replied quietly.
Andrew nodded, thankful that he understood. "And before anyone asks, I'm doing okay. I didn't catch anything from him and I'm in therapy now."
"If there's anything we can do, let us know, okay?" Robin asked.
Andrew nodded as Rona said, "Warren better be glad he's dead, or I'd go back there and kick his ass, hole in the ground or not."
"Thanks." Andrew smiled, unable to express exactly how he felt at his friends' acceptance.
