Description: Reader is Xavier’s lover, left for dead by Margaret outside the camp gates.
Word count: 2.4k
Story written by fckinsupreme on Tumblr, give them a follow because their work is amazing
Warnings: Female reader, AU, death, violence, fluff, angst, blood, shooting, guns. No smut, but there’s mentions of it if you squint
Anonymous requested - I would like a oneshot in which the reader is Xavier’s lover and Margaret kills her on the other side of the road (like Trevor’s death) and Brooke helps to carry her to the other side. Fuffly/very angst
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Nothing had changed in Camp Redwood since 1984. The same boring lines of trees, the same bland cabins, and the same bottomless lake remained, in the same basic conditions they’d been left in. Age and the general passage of weathered time, and the occasional batch of weeds, were the only things giving it any sense of change. The amount of trauma you’d endured, reliving that horrific night in the summer of ‘84, had also been a constant presence in the camp, nagging and pulling like a fingernail to a scab. The overall negative energy experienced was all-consuming, evident from the moment you’d stepped foot on the grounds.
But here you were, anyway. All trauma aside, all the sleepless, nightmare-filled nights full of tears, in your apartment as you clutched a pillow to your chest pretending it was him. Out of everything taken from you that night, losing him had been the hardest of all. Your sense of security, your peace of mind, and your friends had all died that July night, but his loss was the most scarring. You had to see him, no matter what dangers or risks could be posed. You knew it could be your last chance, and there was no way you could let it go by.
You take a deep breath, exhaling and beginning to approach.
***
Xavier could hardly believe his eyes.
Was it really Y/N? Or was it another wishful hallucination that he’d cooked up? That seemed to happen more often than not; now, however, appeared to be the real deal. It nearly brings him to his knees, the sheer, stunning force of it almost too much to bear. She was here, she had come back to him. How long had it been? Five years, if the whisperings he’d overheard held any truth. Yet, she hadn’t changed a bit; she was still a knockout, her (e/c) eyes shining, her (h/c) hair blowing in the breeze. For the first time since he’d been brutally murdered at the hands of Margaret Booth, Xavier felt alive. Warmth settles in his chest, and tears threaten to spill as their eyes lock.
How he wanted to run out and scoop her in his arms! How he desired to bury his face in her neck, to breathe in the life and vibrancy that he himself lacked! How he wanted to kiss her cherry-red lips, to taste her strawberry chapstick and lose himself in her! But it wasn’t possible; he was chained to this realm, tethered to the hellmouth that refused to spit him out. Y/N, however, seemed to need him as well, and began slowly walking toward the gate.
Xavier’s mind flashes to memories of their past, ones that comforted him on the most difficult of days. The two of them in the back of his van, naked and sharing a blunt & some cocaine after a wild night of sex. Passing a beer between them at the beach, vowing to always be together as they gazed at the stars. His confession of love as he went down on her, head between her legs and his mind buzzing on weed, but he meant every word. His tears falling onto her shoulder as he spoke of his past, of the abuse at the hands of his alcoholic mother, the father who abandoned him, the heroin addiction that led him into the clutches of a horrible man who forced him to do gay porn as “a favour.” Her promises of always being there for him and swearing that he never deserved any of those horrible things. The sounds she made when he made love to her, and how different it was from the animalistic sex that was his M.O. Their first fight, over him working extra at the studio, but it was only to buy her a beautiful ring that he used to propose with on her birthday. That night, asking her to be his forever, by the ocean in the moonlight. Sharing a bottle of red wine, jokingly making wedding plans while nude and half-drunk in her bed.
The camp. Asking her to come here for a summer of fun, only for her to survive and him to die. Being apart from her for the rest of time, stuck in his own personal hell.
His mind raced with so many questions, but none were really important right now. He had done terrible things, had killed people, had caused inexplicable pain, but seeing Y/N seemed to erase all of it. All he could think about was the past, of her, and the heat below his ribcage expands. Tears fall down his cheeks before he realizes what’s happening, and she’s only a few feet away from the gate now.
But before she can approach, Margaret emerges from behind a set of trees.
Xavier is paralyzed with fear, watching as the two of them argue. Y/N is yelling at Margaret, screaming at her about vengeance for taking Xavier away from her. Margaret, full of smug air, gloats that no one would believe Y/N for the accusations, since Brooke was executed for the crimes. It fills Xavier with pure, unbridled rage, hearing that Brooke died for crimes she didn’t even commit. He knew it was going to happen, seeing it in a newspaper left behind by one of his own victims, but hearing that it was fact…
He’s pulled back to reality by the sound of a gunshot. It rings in his ears, echoing in the clearing as a scream of anguish soon follows. Xavier feels as though everything is a slow-motion nightmare, seeing his beloved Y/N on the ground with a gunshot wound to her leg. Xavier screams as Margaret points the gun at her again, but no sound comes out of his mouth. The gun goes off again, this time shooting Y/N in the abdomen. Xavier falls to his knees, sobbing noiselessly as Margaret laughs with satisfaction. The urge to storm out and kill her is strong, but he knows it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t even hold her, comfort her, bring her peace. She would die outside the gates, away from him for an eternity, moving on while he remained imprisoned forever.
No. The thought of that was absolutely unbearable.
Margaret walks away, saying something about finding Trevor. Y/N tries to stand and falls, hissing in pain as she applies pressure to her stomach wound. She turns onto her stomach, still clutching it as her eyes lock on his. He sees the fire in them, the determination, and knows she’s going to fight. He can see the blood…so much blood, coming between her fingers, painting them a sticky crimson. He crawls as close as he can to the gate, slapping the ground in front of him as tears cascade his cheeks.
“Y/N!” he calls, holding out his hand. “Come to me! Please!”
She tries to drag herself across the ground, but it’s slow–too slow. He screams, both in pain and frustration, his fist beating the ground. Dust is conjured, forming a cloud between him and Y/N and obscuring his vision. His hand bleeds, but he doesn’t care. It will heal on its own, anyway, he thought; Y/N, on the other hand, would not.
“Baby, come on!” he begs tearfully. “Come on. I know you can make it! You just need a couple more feet and you’ll be with me! Fight it, fight it for me.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. Blood is still spilling from her injuries, and she can’t fight anymore. She’s just two feet from the gate when she collapses, her breathing shallow and ragged. Xavier’s screams sound through the woods, full of pain and anger, his hands tearing at his hair as he begins to weep. He draws his knees to his chest, knowing that his world is over. When he died, he was at a small amount of peace knowing that Y/N was out there, alive and happy. That was over now; she would die, out of reach and alone.
***
Brooke made her way through the forest, stumbling upon the entrance to the camp. Revenge echoed in her mind, and she could practically taste the sweetness of it in the back of her throat. Soon, it would be hers, and she could fulfill the only thing she’d thought about since leaving prison. The unnatural joy she felt was so great, and it threatened to overwhelm her. The image of Margaret, merciless and shaking, begging for her life as Brooke finished her, was one she replayed constantly in her mind. It was no different now, flickering like a movie in her head as she made the return journey into Camp Redwood—the place where it all began.
But the sounds of gunshots cut through her fantasy, shortening it and sending her into a sprint.
When she reaches the area, she sees her old friend Y/N on the ground, lying in a small pool of her own blood. Xavier is at the entrance, sobbing into his knees. Once upon a time, the two of them had done anything for Brooke, and Y/N had worked tirelessly to prove Brooke’s innocence. Brooke guessed that Y/N was here for vengeance of her own, but Margaret stopped her. Now, Y/N lay dying, mere feet from the love of her life, a cruel hand dealt by the master of fate.
It wouldn’t happen that way, though. Not if Brooke could help it.
“Xavier!” Brooke calls, trying to get his attention. “Xavier!”
He looks up, blinking away tears as Brooke rushes to Y/N. He’s shocked, his expression one of disbelief at first, but it soon shifts to relief & joy as he sees what Brooke is about to do. She checks for a pulse, happy to discover that Y/N is still alive. Y/N groans, her own face full of surprise as Brooke takes her arm. She stands on wobbly legs, holding the injured one up, an arm around Brooke’s shoulder as Brooke leads her to the gate. Xavier’s tears have turned to those of bliss, his arms outstretched as Brooke walks her over. Xavier grabs Y/N immediately when she’s within reach, laying her upon the ground in his lap.
There was so much damn blood. Even now, with her in his arms, fear in her eyes and her body beginning to shut down, blood seeping onto his lap, she was beautiful. It broke his heart to see her brought down like this, a girl in the prime of her life with so much living left to do–just like all the rest Margaret had slaughtered with no remorse. Brooke kneels next to them, tears in her eyes as she takes one of Y/N’s hands. Xavier strokes Y/N’s hair, trying to bring her comfort and peace. He knows, all too well, the fear of death. He knows the fight, the struggle to cling to that last bit of life as it ebbs away so quickly & easily. But all holding on does is prolong pain and suffering, and that was senseless. He bends down to kiss her forehead, watching the life slowly draining from her eyes. He glances at Brooke, and their eyes lock for a moment. There’s a mutual understanding in that shared look, and Xavier caresses Y/N’s cheek before speaking.
“You can rest,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Close your eyes, and you can be with me forever. Just close your eyes…”
She does, her (e/c) eyes fluttering shut after a moment. A few minutes later, her breathing stops, and she goes limp in Xavier’s arms. Brooke sniffles next to him, still on her knees and grasping Y/N’s hand. For a little while, nothing happens. Xavier, for several stricken moments, wonders if she was far enough inside the camp for it to work. But just when he’s ready to lose hope, a soft sob comes from behind him. He & Brooke turn simultaneously, and Xavier leaps up at once when he sees Y/N standing there. Her wounds are gone, the blood on her nowhere in sight, her tears streaming down her gorgeous, smiling face. Brooke looks from Y/N’s body to her ghost, unbelieving for a moment as she watches them embrace, Xavier kissing her passionately as they weep joyously.
“You’re here,” he says, grinning as he presses their foreheads together. “You’re back with me.”
“Forever,” she says, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Forever,” he repeats. “We will always have each other now. We will never, ever have to be apart, which is how it always should have been.”
She nods, sniffling before turning to look at Brooke. “You’re alive…”
“Thanks to Donna,” Brooke says as she stands, brushing off the knees of her jeans. “I’m sorry Margaret got you, too. Both of you.”
Y/N walks over to her, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for bringing me over; you gave us back all that we lost.”
“Don’t mention it,” Brooke says sweetly, nodding toward the path behind them. “Go, both of you. You have some catching up to do, and so do I.”
“Be careful,” Xavier warns. “You know how batshit crazy she is.”
“I know,” Brooke says, gesturing to the path again. “Go.”
Xavier takes Y/N’s hand, and they slowly walk off together. Brooke observes them, feeling bittersweet as they go off into the hell they were eternally trapped in. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for them now, since they were reunited in the afterlife. Whichever way they viewed it, it wouldn’t deter Brooke from her mission. Margaret had to be taken down, to pay for all of the horrible crimes committed both past and present. Brooke had to undertake this dangerous quest for Ray, for Chet, for Xavier, for Y/N, and even for Jingles. She would avenge all of them, right all these wrongs as best as she could.
If she couldn’t, then she sure as hell would die trying.