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While everyone else tried to help Willow, Xander found himself standing back, a melancholy look on his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help; it was just that he had something else that he had to deal with, something that would put an uncomfortable distance between him and all of his friends. Because while he had some of the most abstract memories of committing atrocities as a military commander, he had a few deeply personal ones.
Like the final fight against Horus. The original Horus, and the ghastly way he had slain Sanguinius. And what had happened to Sanguinius’ sons, the Blood Angels afterward. And how that was in him too now. He had it there within him, that lurking psychic scar that opened him up to power beyond understanding. Just behind his eyes the Black Rage lurked, and if he ever succumbed to it, he could probably tear apart Buffy in his frenzy. He did not have the already super human strength of a Space Marine, but then again none of the Blood Angels had been touched so strongly by Sanguinius’ spirit either.
Of course, far worse for Xander than the Black Rage was the Red Thirst; the animalistic desire to not just kill but to feed, to rip apart the foe and let their hot blood trickle across the tongue and down the throat. It was a sickness, one that Xander would struggle with for the rest of his life, and considering that of the group he probably hated vampires the most, the fact that he now suffered from their affliction was so bitterly ironic.
Xander could already feel his gorge starting to rise, his anger building at seeing his friend hurt, and then that fact pissed him off. He knew that he could bring a lot to the whole saving the world business, but he would trade it all to be the happy-go-lucky guy in the group who knew how to make his friend Willow smile, not the dark, broody guy with the superpowers and the arrogance to match. Angel already had those bases covered.
Xander suddenly felt sorry for the poor bastard, which annoyed him even more. He had to get away before he hurt someone. The fact that he was mad enough that he felt he needed to leave angered him as well, and he had to exit in an absolutely foul mood, his face dark and stormy.
The Open Door, Chapter 16
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