Watch the World Burn

I'm super sick and I have a really hard test tomorrow.
Send help.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: Dark!Willow blames Xander.
Word Count: 360
Rating: Gen

          His friend isn’t there.  Xander knows it, can feel it under all the rage and pain.  Failure.  Agony.  Loss.  Inadequacy.  Jealousy.  The burning desire to just torch everything and watch the world burn, to hear someone else scream because you can’t make a sound.
          “You knew this would happen!”
          He shakes his head.  Wants to hold her, but she’d just try to kill him in the state she’s in, and her power’s stronger than his.  If Sorceror Supreme was a thing in their world, she’d have the title in a heartbeat.  “I knew it was a possibility, but Willow, I didn’t—”
          He’s not sure how he plans to finish the sentence.  Maybe with some empty thing about not expecting supervillains to use guns, or that he didn’t think, no one thought it would escalate this far even if they did feed the ego of wannabe supervillains, or something…but there’s no words that can fix this wound, no words that can heal.
          She already tried to bring her lover back.  He can feel the black threatening to engulf her.  The dark intentions, the attempt at necromancy.
          “Don’t,” she snarls, and waves, and he’s choking.  She’s reaching through the wards and the armor and just reaching into his throat and closing it off.  He panics, struggling, and feels her take a dark pleasure in it, and that’s enough to give him the idea he needs.
          He calls on the light.  If there’s anything that would repel her right now, it’s that.  Infuses it in the crystal and throughout his skin until it tingles.  I may not be a saint but help me now, he asks anyone who’s listening, and the pressure’s suddenly gone and she’s backing away with a hiss, face twisted in a way he doesn’t recognize.
          She looks ugly.  She looks like a monster.
          Don’t make me do this, Wils.
          “Your time will come,” she promises, voice sickly sweet, and he reaches out a hand.
          “Wait—” but he doesn’t finish before she’s gone.  “—I’m not gonna give up on you,” he promises the world now that she’s no longer there to hear, the resolve strengthening every ward.