Fic: "Fade to Black", Buffy/Giles, chapter 10/10 ALTERNATE ENDING
PLEASE NOTE: This is an alterate ending to the original story Fade to Black. This is neither a sequel nor a replacement, nearly another option for what might have been.
It was written for emmessann who has been so patient with me in the writing of this that it's not even funny...seriously. I promised that it would be done by October 1st, 2005. Um...
But anyway the request was for an alternate ending to Fade to Black which was not full of heart-rending angst and which might even be called happy. So here it is!
Note that the start of this chapter contains a lot of the same text as the original ending. The new material can be found after the *** mark.
Thank you as always to elizabuffy for the awesome beta. *snug* As I said you'll always be entitled to me, EB! ;^D
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“Miss? Miss, are you alright?” the attendant shook her worriedly. She knew the girl often slept here, and that the staff in general had grown accustomed to it and largely ignored it, but there was something unnatural about the way the blonde was slumped forward in the chair.
Buffy felt the hand on her shoulder and struggled to pull herself awake.
“You’re bleeding,” the other woman commented with concern as she indicated her own mouth to demonstrate where.
Buffy reached up a hand and scrubbed away the dried trickle at the corner. “It’s nothing.” Then the situation hit her. “How long have I been here?” she asked, voice shriller.
“Several hours. We didn’t want to bother you when we changed the bags.”
Several hours. Her mind raced as a glance at her watch confirmed it. She’d only been with him about thirty minutes, so the force of being expelled so violently must have knocked her out somehow. She had to get to him.
“Thank you. Anything else you need to do for him soon?” she asked, praying for the opportunity at some privacy.
The attendant shook her head. “Not that I know of.” The look she gave Buffy was sympathetic, and she tried to make small talk, but Buffy did her best to usher the other woman out of the room as quickly as possible. Finally, she succeeded.
Desperately, the Slayer clutched the crystal and curled both their hands around it, willing for it to turn the blue that would signal she could visit her Watcher. At first, nothing happened. Then a wisp of smoke seemed to swirl around inside the crystal, faint and grey. Her heart raced, and she gripped tighter, not even noticing that she was driving its ragged base into the palm of his hand and drawing blood. A slight trickle of sickly bluish green finally began to spread like a hairline crack and slowly dissipated outward. Buffy wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but she decided it was going to have to be good enough.
Steeling herself, she began the chant that would let her enter his mind once more.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The door was there, waiting for her, and she flung it open, throwing herself directly into the endlessly-stretching moonlit field. The shed from which she’d emerged seemed to have been an afterthought, thrown in strictly for the express purpose of providing her a way in. A gale howled around her, long grass whipping at her legs, the dew quickly soaking through her jeans up to the knees. Buffy noticed none of these things, however, as her heart raced and she scanned the horizon for him. By the time she spotted her Watcher, he was already racing toward her, and she adjusted her trajectory slightly to meet him.
She heard him call out her name, and screamed his in return even as she saw the shadow demon bearing down on him, the storm echoing its shrieking, gleeful laughter as it recognized her.
Giles reached her, their bodies slamming together as she wrapped her arms around him, facing the creature that had plagued him for so long now. It swirled down and dissipated its form around them to increase the darkness and bolster the wind as it whipped around them howling and shrieking, threatening to tear them apart. Desperately, she clung to the man she loved, frantically trying to hold him close enough that she would never have to let go as she dug her head into his chest.
“NO! You can’t have him!” she called out as forcefully as she could. “You CAN’T! I won’t let you. I WON’T LET YOU!” she screamed over and over again, letting the cutting air tear the words from her throat until it was raw.
Giles understood and used all of his own force to return her desperate embrace, ignoring the pain her strength was inflicting on him. The thought that she was so physically strong, even in the power of his mind, cut briefly through the panic and terror of it.
Leaning his head down to her ear, he yelled even as the gale tried to blow her hair up into his mouth. “It’s alright, Buffy!”
She moved her head against his chest to stare up at him, eyes bright as much from the stinging wind as from her own pain. “No, it’s not! I can’t lose you! Not like this.”
The faint features of the world his mind had created around them continued to dim, fading to blank, even darkness as the wind consumed it all quite hungrily, tearing at their clothes, whipping their hair, burning them raw with its force as it attempted to throw them to the ground. Only the physical manifestation of Giles himself remained solid and visible, though Buffy found herself wondering how long he could last-and how long she could hold him into being.
“You can’t stop this…not now,” he shouted back to her over the roar.
She kept her arms around his lower waist, but pushed herself away from his chest enough to look at him fully. “NO! I can’t go on without you…or at least I don’t want to, anyway. I need you, and, and, Giles? I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, and I was so stupid…so afraid, because with you it really matters. I love you, Giles, and…” but Buffy never got to finish her sentence as he captured her lips with his own.
Her words had been a gift to him, filling his heart and erasing the terror of the moment with a joy so overwhelming it was almost painful, made infinitely moreso by the crushingly devastating knowledge that it could never truly be, simply because there wasn’t time…not now. Provided Buffy’s statements were true, Giles meant to take advantage of the few seconds they had left.
Frenetically, they both sought as if to truly meld two into one, as their bodies continued to press together and their mouths met each other openly. Together they drew from each other as deeply as they could, each knowing the other was doing the same, even as both realized that their first true kiss would also be the last. Their lips grew accustomed quickly and welcomed each other as old friends, their tongues touching in greeting.
***
But though he wanted it to last forever, Giles could feel the end approaching. It came softly, but surely, the shadow in his mind fast making a shadow of his soul. Though he still felt her and held her, his love and the ecstasy of hers were being caught in a roiling sea of terror, frustration, anger, grief, and darkness that loomed to consume him. He didn’t fight it. No more, he resolved. To struggle would only end it sooner.
The violent, bruising passion of his body pressed against hers began to lessen, and Buffy opened her eyes to a blank world. Already, Giles’ outline was beginning to fade, though he seemed almost to have not noticed it himself. And then she realized it. He was giving up…he was leaving. She dug her head into his chest with a sense of overwhelming helplessness. But then she suddenly pulled away and stared at him.
“No.”
Buffy hadn’t said the word loudly, but it somehow dominated the howl of the wind and seemed to sit above it, penetrating the impenetrable.
“Buffy, please,” Giles whispered, his words lost, looking at her with despair, fading a little more.
She didn’t respond to his attempt to pull her in again. Instead, she began to let herself feel the anger again, flashing at the unfairness of it all, but now it was bolstered with something else. If the problem before was that she wasn’t allowing him in, that she wasn’t open enough, well, she resolved, it was a mistake she’d pay for now. Even if the darkness took her as well.
Buffy knew the rules of this world enough by now to know it operated on thought. So she thought about it, letting her feelings for him swell up inside her, pushing them out and laying them bare before him in offering. It rolled over her, smothering all else, even her hatred for the demon. Buffy fully expected the action to leave her vulnerable, and waited to be ravaged and torn apart.
But the darkness didn’t come. No filth invaded her mind and no shadow raped her soul. Instead…she felt powerful. And yet, even when she reached out and held Giles’ hand above her heart, and begged him to fight, she knew she was still losing him, for though he looked at her with tender wonder, his face was still that of one who is already defeated. With her mind opened to him, she could feel him faintly in return and all she found was acceptance and despair.
What was wrong, she wondered? Why had she given herself over but remained untouched, but still found herself failing? Then it clicked. The demon truly was a creature of fear and hate. Giles had fought it long and hard during the weeks of hell, and was tired and overwhelmed, giving her the last of the positive emotion he had left. But her love…fresh and new, it was still potent and untouchable.
Her mind raced. How could she use it? Damnit, she thought, if he wouldn’t fight, she would do so for him. But considering how he had always reacted to anything she manifested in his mind, could he withstand it if she tried to do so now? There really wasn’t much of a choice. Already he was on his knees, and his form was so much dimmer in the nightscape.
Buffy started to envision in her mind what she wanted and was about to try to make it be, when it occurred to her exactly what the problem had been. She’d been so eager for the way out that she’d been forcing it on him all those times. How much easier to simply ask? But how… “I can’t accept this, Giles. I can’t…and you shouldn’t either. Help me!” she commanded.
Mentally she formed the picture and pushed that outward in the same way she’d done before, displaying it. The pitiful creature that was left of her Watcher looked up at her startled, but she felt the response like a nod. Giving the vision power, she shaped it in his mind with hers and the changes began.
Desperate, she’d chosen a form to protect him, though how she could do so physically, she didn’t know yet…she’d have to make it up as she went along. Her form grew taller, greater, and her shoulders itched for a moment before wings began to sprout and unfurl, ripping and shining like mercury as the shifted in form. They grew to an impressive span, then longer, reaching six feet, ten, twenty from tip to tip, glowing silver and bright before in a flash they grew bright enough to fight the dark, settling into a brilliant white. The pattern of delicate feathers formed, soft and white. But in her new form, Buffy felt anything but delicate.
Leather gauntlets laced themselves along her arms, light but unbreachable mail rested on her shoulders over a hardened leather armor kilbanion that boosted her chest and slimmed her form. This met with the leather pleats of what could almost be called a skirt. Tall boots ran along her calves to the knees, showing off the skin of her thighs above. As a walk-on to a Xena set she would have fit right in-she would have been perfectly outfitted to stand on the cover of her own comic book in fact, but it suited her needs. She summoned a flaming broadsword to cut the dark, leaving a brilliant arc, but one which quickly faded and made her cry out with a detrimental rage. No-only positive emotions, she reminded herself; anything else would feed the demon. Then her mind recalled the futility of weapons against the demon’s more physical form, and suddenly she doubted very much that they would serve her better now.
If she couldn’t fight the demon, she would keep it from what it wanted most. “No,” she said again, louder, stronger. Defiantly, she faced the dark. Her wings pulled to their full width, then were swiftly swept down and in front of her, curling themselves so their primary feathers overlapped at the tips, encircling. Without looking, she knew Giles-or what was left of him-lay within their embrace, wrapped in the love she held like a shield, daring the demon to break it.
The wind grew stronger, angrier as it tore at her. Buffy could feel it whipping back her hair, but more than that, she felt the strange sensation of it tearing at the feathers of her wings. But no matter how it bit and howled, not so much as a single snowy feather was torn free. “He is mine,” she said firmly, her voice steely in its assurance as she faced the nothing, flaming sword aloft. “I claim him. I love him.” She knew she did and the thought seemed to lift her, making her lighter as she rejoiced. Buffy turned the love into the circle, feeding it to the lifeforce she felt in the middle of it as if it were a physical and was reassured by the swelling response she felt in return. Could it be? The despair she had felt from him was abating. She thrust out her chin, feeling more confident. “And I’m sorry, but no two bit, ugly bat-winged demon can take him from me. I mean, seriously? Scary wind? Darkness? Evil visions? The average unimaginative ogre could come up with a scheme like that.”
It might be all bluster on her part, but what else could she do? Taunting was better than nothing for now, and yes, she was sure of it now. The tide of her battle to keep Giles had turned. He was stronger, he was taking her strength and re-growing his own. The question was, would it be enough? Or had her final fight only spelled the end for them both? “Love me, Giles,” she tried to tell him. “Don’t let it get to you…”
She felt the counterattack before she saw it. It hit her like a physical blow against her back, and she staggered, nearly knocked over. A second force took her on a wing, and it crumpled before she quickly reinforced her encirclement-but not before she caught a glimpse of Giles, still huddled, still on one knee, but there.
Buffy dropped to one knee and with her free arm held him close, laying his head against her armored chest, bringing her wings in tighter around him so that they touched him now. Still, she continued to shield him, nourish him, while she concentrated on the space around her, waiting again for an attack. This time she saw it coming. It was if the absence of light truly had a color darker and deeper than the mere void around them. Whatever was hurtling toward her was the size of a large dog, winged but amorphous, seeming to bend the black around it as it came at her with frightening speed. It was a reflex that bought her arm down so that the sword sliced it cleanly, causing it to halve. But the nightmarish beast did not die but simply became two.
As a horde, they came like hail. More came and she fought them, halving some again and again, as others came through her defenses and battered her, weakening her, as they blended their own monster cries with the that of the wind’s.
“I need something, Giles,” she told him fiercely, hoping he heard, as she didn’t dare let her concentration drift from the fight in order to look at him. A picture came to mind. Something that could fight for her. Something that could take down the flying beasts. Birds. Giant white eagles. She concentrated…and they came! Great things of light that dove down from some unseen point above and banked only at the last moment to circle. More shadow creatures came and the birds met them head on, crumpling and falling to earth. Some rose again, others did not.
At first it seemed as if they were at least evenly matched, but then Buffy begin to feel the pull on her resources as more and more of their defenders fell. She had no idea about the endurance of the demon, but her own was flagging. And yet…Giles was stirring now. He’d turned around in her arms and seemed to be helping her, directing the birds. Arrows of blue flame joined them flitting across like moonbeams, and she knew they were of his own creation. But he was still more tired than she, and she knew it. This couldn’t last.
“Giles.” He didn’t respond. With her off-sword hand she shook his shoulder and forced him to look at her, though the minute she did, the arrows wavered and faded. “Giles, please.”
“Buffy,” he croaked, and his eyes seemed to hold a kind of sadness. Did he not know how dangerous that was? “Thank you. But…”
“No, Giles,” she told him furiously, realizing he still was on the verge of giving over, “don’t give up. Never. Just look at me. The demon said I was blocking you before, right? Well I’m letting you in now, Giles. I love you. I do. And I trust you. This is just another big bad we have to face, and it isn’t stronger than both of us…it can’t be, because if it is, then this doesn’t matter. But it’s your mind, Giles. It feeds on the bad emotions so you have to try think about only the good ones. You have to be the one to fight him…I see that now. But I also see that you need me to do it. I can give you the way. So use me. Please. I’ll let you…just, fight.
“Buffy, I…” he seemed to hesitate, unsure himself, but then suddenly he drew himself up and kissed her. Buffy could feel it now-it wasn’t just the mere power she’d been offering him that he took now, but more. He drew from her, plunging his mind deep inside and at first she wanted to resist, her mind naturally screaming to protect itself, to keep itself distant. But she fought her reaction down and gave willingly, letting his mind dominate hers, and forcing herself to submit. Eventually it seemed as if he had pulled her from her body entirely, mingling her essence with his, and indeed the warrior form she’d constructed, crumpled and fell as his stood tall now, head high, shoulders squared. This was the man she knew-the one she loved before she knew such a thing was possible. He had fought beside her and for her so many times, always with the thought of protecting her, but now he had to protect himself to save them both.
A black thing dodged a bird and took him in the shoulder. He staggered, but kept his feet. Leaning down, Giles plucked the flaming sword from where it had fallen and held it high himself. At first it seemed he too would take up the futile task of trying to physically fight the never-ending onslaught, but instead he held the sword high, then plunged it downward, between the area where her wings lay, still arced about the ground around his feet.
In a crack, the wind died, seeming abruptly louder in its silence than anything she could imagine. For a moment, the hard surface on which she lay seemed to tremble. A breathless eternity waited while time seemed to stand still. Then, impossibly, the surface split and light showed bright through the crack. Tendrils spread outward, slow at first, then faster, covering the ground in a brilliant spiderweb of light. The cracks traveled upward, finding smooth walls in his brain, forming a ceiling. Then again, there was a tension of stillness…it was a fight…a struggle of wills.
Buffy reached deep, thinking of late night research at the library. Of how he’d welcomed her back after she’d run away without blame and only joy. Of the way that she felt alive for the first time after crawling out of the ground when she saw him standing in the Magic Box. Of the way he’d fought the mayor. Of his quiet support of her when she’d faced Angelus, even though his personal loss was great. Of training until they were both exhausted. Of the way he always offered her tea after patrol. Of the way they’d talked in their house in Cleveland. Of cardgames and movies. Of quiet touches and of their first kiss a mere moment ago. She gathered it all and sent it to him, and the ground trembled again, and then…
The boom was deafening! The darkness fell like ash and gave way to light all around them, pure and radiant. The remaining creatures fell to the ground with pitiful cries and withered to nothing while the eagles soared away victorious. But her wonder was short lived as Giles called out for her. “Buffy! The way out…NOW!” he demanded.
She felt him feeding back the power and, sitting up, she understood. Taking what he gave, she formed it. This time, for the first time, he did not wince or fall. Instead, the pavement rose up beneath them and the sky crashed down from above. Trees grew on either side to join the two and spread their branches. Grass rolled out like a carpet. Houses pulled themselves together board by board, growing driveways next to mailboxes and fences that popped up as fast as the flowers that lined the planters in her neighbor’s yard. And in the middle of it all, there stood, just as before, but far more complete, 1630 Revello Drive. He grabbed her hand to pull her up, just as she heard the terrifying roar from above.
Together they sprinted as the demon chased them, a red-eyed shadow falling along the ground, a mere block away but gaining ground. Buffy almost stumbled on the steps, but he caught her, half pulling, half pushing her up the stairs. When they got to the door, she flung it open. “You first?” she breathed and he nodded. She saw him tense, bracing himself based on past experience, but when he stepped though, there was no resistance, and Buffy stepped through behind him, just as the shadow reached the steps and went for the doormat. But by the time it reached the frame, she was already gone.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Immediately there was confusion and noise. “Ms. Summers!” someone was shouting, while she heard Xander’s voice saying, “please, just leave her alone.” Somehow, he was knocked aside by one of the struggling nurses who rushed to her and began to shake her shoulder, then reached for a pulse.
“Huh?” Buffy said, dazed, and bolting upright.
“Oh thank goodness!” the nurse exclaimed, “you seemed to be having a seizure and we thought…”
Buffy didn’t pay much attention to the explanation of those around her talking about how she’d been calling out and spasming. Or of how Willow, with Xander and Elyssa as reinforcements, had tried to shield her from the eager hands of the staff who couldn’t help but notice the noise, knowing that while in his mind, breaking physical contact with him in the real world could be deadly. Instead, Buffy’s eyes were on one thing…his face, and silently she prayed to whatever powers would listen. And then…Giles’ eyes opened-or tried to against the tape-and he started to cough and struggle. She ripped off the tape and was grateful that the nurse immediately noticed as well.
“My god,” the nurse said, stunned.
“Giles,” Buffy sobbed gratefully. “Don’t fight. It’s over…” she turned to the nurse. “I think he’s trying to breathe on his own…please?”
An aide was already coming into the room, alerted by the button the nurse had pressed. Buffy’s words spurred them both back to their professional selves and into action.
The next long minutes were a flurry of action. Apparently the revival of a long-term coma patient was enough to bring not only a few incidental staff but half of the doctors on the floor as well. The respirator tube came out, vitals were checked, and Giles was generally poked and prodded. Buffy watched, dazed, but willing to stand out of their way simply because for now he was alive, and that was enough. One of the staff finally told them they had to leave. Buffy ignored him long enough to take Giles hand and give it a squeeze, promising to come back. Then she cut off Xander’s protest and agreed to wait outside.
“You okay, Buffy?” he asked her in the hall.
Her smile was genuine for the first time in a long time. “More than. We won, Xander.”
“It’s all good?” he asked, still a bit stunned and uncertain.
“All good,” she agreed. Then a sudden thought struck and she turned to Willow, a little panicked. “He’ll remember, won’t he? The last few months…me and him, he’ll remember it too, right?”
Willow hesitated and Buffy noticed. “Probably. I…It’s not for sure though.”
She bit her lip and finally said shakily. “Either way, it’s okay. He loved me before, and even if he didn’t, just having him okay is good enough.”
Elyssa nodded and Buffy was surprised how grateful she was when the other girl gave her a hug. “I only met him that once, but if he’s even half the man you all think he is, it will definitely be okay.” Elyssa smiled. “And after all the tales I’ve heard from Willow, I for one can’t wait to meet him.”
Which would be better, Buffy wondered? Having him know about the time they’d spent together in his mind, how desperately they’d both cherished those visits and how it had been in the end? How it had felt to share love like that? Or would it be a blessing to have him forget it all and not remember what had basically been months of mental torture? Selfishly she wondered if it might also be better if he didn’t know it was her own reluctance that had kept him there so long and almost lost him forever, but it was a mean thought and she pushed it down.
For the time being, all any of them could do was to wait.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Miss Summers?” the voice was asking, dragging her back to consciousness from where she slept fitfully against Xander’s shoulder.
“Mr. Giles is asking for you.” That got her attention.
“We wanted to let him rest, but well, I don’t think that’s going to be possible until he gets his way.”
Dawn had made it to the hospital shortly after she’d heard the news and was with them now to squeeze Buffy’s hand. “That sounds like him!” she said.
“Just me?” Buffy asked looking around at her friends.
The attendant sighed, but looked like she knew she’d be fighting a losing battle. “I’ll leave that up to you. Just try to keep the excitement down, please?”
“I…” Buffy knew the others would want to see him too…after all, when she thought about it, they’d been without him for months whereas she had been with him mere hours ago, really. “He’ll want to see everyone. Just…could you give me a few minutes first?”
“Go, Buff,” Xander said and the others nodded.
Wordlessly, Buffy followed the attendant down the hall, until a thought occurred to her. After a few minutes of arguing and another put out look, she got her way, and the attendant left her at the door as she went to go fulfill the request.
Buffy wanted to rush to him, but found herself holding back. “Hey,” she said quietly when he looked up.
The moment grew awkward. Giles started to raise a hand, but let it drop again. “Tell me,” he said in a voice so gravelly that Buffy realized just how long it had been since he’d actually used it, “what happened?”
Disappointment hit her so hard she could have cried, but she couldn’t show him that. “There was this demon with some pretty powerful mojo, and you got zapped into a coma…and it was my fault. I went into your mind to find you, and…” Her throat clenched and she could feel tears threatening, “Do you remember any of it, Giles? My visits? The time we spent together? That last fight? And the things I told you about how I feel? It’s okay if you don’t,” she said, talking quickly, “but I need to know.”
The bed was propped upright so he could sit, but he seemed to sag back further into it, heavily, but with relief. “Then it’s real. I was afraid-I still…”
Buffy took the last few steps to the bed and put her hands on the siderail, clenching it as she told him fiercely. “All of it. Everything was real…or at least it felt that way. But here, now, this is real too, and I still mean what I told you. Every word. Or every good word anyway. The part where I love you…and don’t worry, this is no fantasy. Try it. The mind tricks won’t work here…no appearing objects, no empty books. It happened, but we won.”
There was a knock at the door before he could answer, and the beleaguered attendant came in, tray in hand. Buffy thanked her and she left, leaving the tray and its contents behind.
“Hey. Gift for you,” Buffy told him, smiling, fixing the tray onto the handrails so it sat across his lap. “Every time I visited there seemed to be one thing you were always complaining about.”
Giles eyed the bowl of creamy yellow glop suspiciously. “Uh…”
“Pudding. It’s all I could convince them to let you have right now, but after living on the food around here for the last two months, I can vouch that the lemon pudding is one of the best items on the menu. Just be glad they didn’t bring that curdled milk they call tapioca.”
“I suppose I’ll have to trust you.”
“You’d better, mister. But find out for yourself.”
She handed him a spoon and he took it, but found his fingers were having trouble gripping. Giles managed to get it into the pudding and started to raise it up, but Buffy could tell it was about to be a disaster. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around his and took the spoon from him. She started to bring it up to his lips to offer it to him.
“Buffy…” he looked at her in consternation and seeing such a characteristic Giles expression gave her a little joy, though she didn’t dare smile when he looked so serious.
“No, don’t talk. It hurts to talk right? They warned me about that after you having the tube for so long, but that’s okay. Just listen: I know, you don’t want me to do things for you, but it’s all right. You’ll get better. By tomorrow you probably will be doing this for yourself. And don’t worry; I won’t think any less of you. With the Giles look of death you’re giving me, how could I?”
Giles leaned forward and opened his mouth, accepting the offering. She was right; it was good pudding and suddenly he realized how very hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten in weeks, after all, feeding tube or not. Buffy didn’t have any trouble offering him a second bite.
“Don’t be afraid of this, okay? You’re going to need help for a while, and I want to be there for you. But I’m scared you’ll shut me out because you’ve always been with the pride and the no-showing weakness and all. And I couldn’t bear that. Not after everything.” She sighed and dipped the spoon again as his eyes searched her face. “I know…I’ve come a long ways since I died, but I’m still fragile and this latest experience? Well, it didn’t help. Though I did realize how much I need you.” Quickly she hastened to add, “Not in the bad needy way, I mean, but in the I really, really want to be with you way. And if you won’t let me be there for things like this, well…just let me, okay?”
He nodded solemnly, accepting. Buffy continued to feed him and they sat in comfortable silence for the next several minute until a light tap came on the door. As much as Giles wouldn’t want her seeing his weakness, he’d want the others seeing it less-she removed the tray before saying “come in.”
Xander walked right up to the bed and hugged the other man hard. “Glad you could make it, G-man,” he said, his own voice thick. “You scared us.”
“Scared myself,” Giles said in reply, gripping Xander back with as much strength as he could manage. “How are you?” he asked, eyeing the younger man. Xander looked healthy at least. That was an improvement from when Giles had seen him last, though he knew Buffy had told him Xander was improving if still in a lot of emotional pain.
Xander nodded, understanding the whole intent of the question. “Better. Life goes on.”
“Good.”
“You sound pretty hoarse, Giles, but I guess two months of sleeping does that, huh? Anyway, it’s really great to see you awake. Don’t you ever scare us like that again, okay?” Dawn told him fiercely, appearing by Xander. “It’s not nice. You’re supposed to be indestructible and you were seriously ruining that image.” Then she dropped the stern act. “Seriously though, I missed you.” She too hugged him. “We all did.”
“Definitely,” Willow agreed, smiling.
“But there’s one thing I want to check.” Willow said a few words in Latin and waved her hands a bit, then nodded. “I thought so.”
“Care to share with the class?” Dawn asked.
“The demon…it’s still there.”
That’s right, Buffy realized! They’d seen it as they ran from it, but they hadn’t seen it destroyed. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh god.”
Willow realized immediately what the problem was. “It’s not possessing him anymore…it’s just sorta there.”
“Can you…remove it?” Giles asked, not surprised by her diagnosis but feeling contaminated nonetheless.
Willow’s eyes narrowed. “Probably. But hon?” she looked at Elyssa, “would you?”
Elyssa blushed at their attention. “Energy extraction is a talent of mine.”
“That’s Elyssa,” Buffy said by way of introduction. “I told you that you’d like her.”
With a nod of permission from Giles, the witch reached in her backpack and fiddled around until she found what she wanted. The spell itself turned out to be relatively painless.
“Got it!” Elyssa announced triumphantly after only about a minute, holding aloft a bottle.
Buffy looked at it startled to see only a small blackish thing laying on the bottom, barely the size and shape of a large marble. “That’s it?”
Willow took the bottle and squinted at it. “Yeah. Tiny but icky.” She shuddered. Then she walked over to Giles and laid a hand on his arm to test his energy yet again. “But that’s all of it. You’re clean.”
“Thank god,” Buffy said, and felt the pressure of agreement on her hand. Then she pointed at the bottle. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Giles?” Willow asked, looking at him steadily.
“Destroy it,” he croaked.
Buffy nodded agreement from her post beside the bed.
As they watched, Willow made a clenching motion with her fist and the black lump in the bottle imploded, spreading a black putrid ooze as it was crushed. So easy. Giles breathed a sigh of relief and let go of the tension. It was over. It was over and…
Buffy brushed a hand across his cheek. “I’ll never be afraid to say it again; I love you, Giles,” she whispered, not noticing as the others silently slid from the room.
He squeezed her hand, keeping his gaze steadily on hers. “And I you.” They sat quietly for a moment, just taking it in. Then Giles seemed to grow more somber as he broke off his look and stared instead at the railing of the bed. “But Buffy, I…I can’t even properly hold you like this. I’m sorry.”
She cut him off, guessing his concern. Softly she brushed the hair against the side of his face. Xander was right…it was longer than it ever had been, but she thought that maybe wasn’t a bad thing. “It’s okay; besides, I can still hold you.” To prove it, she lifted herself up in the bed and lay down beside him, pulling his arm so that it lay over her body.
“You’re weak right now, and you will be for a while. I told you before-I know. But you’re alive and you’re here, and those are two very, very good things. I’ll wait as long as it takes…weeks, months, a year, whatever. And I’ll be here for all of it. They said the therapist would be coming in regularly and knowing you and your being all over-achievery you’ll be walking in no time. And then…well then I get to take you home. Then it’s my turn to train you for a while.” She grew a wicked grin. “Never thought I’d get the chance to best you at the broadsword, but I’ll have fun kicking your rather cute ass, Watcherman.”
“Oh you will, will you?” Giles said in his raspy voice smiling, in spite of himself. “And I’m supposed to be looking forward to this?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Because the ass-kicking leads to soreness. And that calls for your own personal Slayer masseuse-me by the way, since I’m the original version,” Buffy clarified, lest he think she was going to thrust him off on one of her juniors, “and a hot bath. And then,” she whispered and her voice grew huskier in a way that Giles had never heard but which sent shivers down his spine, “well, we’ll just have to see what trouble we can get into from there…”
He got a roughish leer that thrilled her. “I’m sure I can think of something. For now…come closer.”
She pushed herself up and leaned down to kiss him, tenderly, remembering that this was their first kiss…again. Then she lay back, head against his chest. “Buffy?” he asked, noticing her face.
“Happy tears,” she assured him, and he smiled.
End: May 22, 2006
It was written for emmessann who has been so patient with me in the writing of this that it's not even funny...seriously. I promised that it would be done by October 1st, 2005. Um...
But anyway the request was for an alternate ending to Fade to Black which was not full of heart-rending angst and which might even be called happy. So here it is!
Note that the start of this chapter contains a lot of the same text as the original ending. The new material can be found after the *** mark.
Thank you as always to elizabuffy for the awesome beta. *snug* As I said you'll always be entitled to me, EB! ;^D
===================================================================
“Miss? Miss, are you alright?” the attendant shook her worriedly. She knew the girl often slept here, and that the staff in general had grown accustomed to it and largely ignored it, but there was something unnatural about the way the blonde was slumped forward in the chair.
Buffy felt the hand on her shoulder and struggled to pull herself awake.
“You’re bleeding,” the other woman commented with concern as she indicated her own mouth to demonstrate where.
Buffy reached up a hand and scrubbed away the dried trickle at the corner. “It’s nothing.” Then the situation hit her. “How long have I been here?” she asked, voice shriller.
“Several hours. We didn’t want to bother you when we changed the bags.”
Several hours. Her mind raced as a glance at her watch confirmed it. She’d only been with him about thirty minutes, so the force of being expelled so violently must have knocked her out somehow. She had to get to him.
“Thank you. Anything else you need to do for him soon?” she asked, praying for the opportunity at some privacy.
The attendant shook her head. “Not that I know of.” The look she gave Buffy was sympathetic, and she tried to make small talk, but Buffy did her best to usher the other woman out of the room as quickly as possible. Finally, she succeeded.
Desperately, the Slayer clutched the crystal and curled both their hands around it, willing for it to turn the blue that would signal she could visit her Watcher. At first, nothing happened. Then a wisp of smoke seemed to swirl around inside the crystal, faint and grey. Her heart raced, and she gripped tighter, not even noticing that she was driving its ragged base into the palm of his hand and drawing blood. A slight trickle of sickly bluish green finally began to spread like a hairline crack and slowly dissipated outward. Buffy wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but she decided it was going to have to be good enough.
Steeling herself, she began the chant that would let her enter his mind once more.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The door was there, waiting for her, and she flung it open, throwing herself directly into the endlessly-stretching moonlit field. The shed from which she’d emerged seemed to have been an afterthought, thrown in strictly for the express purpose of providing her a way in. A gale howled around her, long grass whipping at her legs, the dew quickly soaking through her jeans up to the knees. Buffy noticed none of these things, however, as her heart raced and she scanned the horizon for him. By the time she spotted her Watcher, he was already racing toward her, and she adjusted her trajectory slightly to meet him.
She heard him call out her name, and screamed his in return even as she saw the shadow demon bearing down on him, the storm echoing its shrieking, gleeful laughter as it recognized her.
Giles reached her, their bodies slamming together as she wrapped her arms around him, facing the creature that had plagued him for so long now. It swirled down and dissipated its form around them to increase the darkness and bolster the wind as it whipped around them howling and shrieking, threatening to tear them apart. Desperately, she clung to the man she loved, frantically trying to hold him close enough that she would never have to let go as she dug her head into his chest.
“NO! You can’t have him!” she called out as forcefully as she could. “You CAN’T! I won’t let you. I WON’T LET YOU!” she screamed over and over again, letting the cutting air tear the words from her throat until it was raw.
Giles understood and used all of his own force to return her desperate embrace, ignoring the pain her strength was inflicting on him. The thought that she was so physically strong, even in the power of his mind, cut briefly through the panic and terror of it.
Leaning his head down to her ear, he yelled even as the gale tried to blow her hair up into his mouth. “It’s alright, Buffy!”
She moved her head against his chest to stare up at him, eyes bright as much from the stinging wind as from her own pain. “No, it’s not! I can’t lose you! Not like this.”
The faint features of the world his mind had created around them continued to dim, fading to blank, even darkness as the wind consumed it all quite hungrily, tearing at their clothes, whipping their hair, burning them raw with its force as it attempted to throw them to the ground. Only the physical manifestation of Giles himself remained solid and visible, though Buffy found herself wondering how long he could last-and how long she could hold him into being.
“You can’t stop this…not now,” he shouted back to her over the roar.
She kept her arms around his lower waist, but pushed herself away from his chest enough to look at him fully. “NO! I can’t go on without you…or at least I don’t want to, anyway. I need you, and, and, Giles? I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, and I was so stupid…so afraid, because with you it really matters. I love you, Giles, and…” but Buffy never got to finish her sentence as he captured her lips with his own.
Her words had been a gift to him, filling his heart and erasing the terror of the moment with a joy so overwhelming it was almost painful, made infinitely moreso by the crushingly devastating knowledge that it could never truly be, simply because there wasn’t time…not now. Provided Buffy’s statements were true, Giles meant to take advantage of the few seconds they had left.
Frenetically, they both sought as if to truly meld two into one, as their bodies continued to press together and their mouths met each other openly. Together they drew from each other as deeply as they could, each knowing the other was doing the same, even as both realized that their first true kiss would also be the last. Their lips grew accustomed quickly and welcomed each other as old friends, their tongues touching in greeting.
***
But though he wanted it to last forever, Giles could feel the end approaching. It came softly, but surely, the shadow in his mind fast making a shadow of his soul. Though he still felt her and held her, his love and the ecstasy of hers were being caught in a roiling sea of terror, frustration, anger, grief, and darkness that loomed to consume him. He didn’t fight it. No more, he resolved. To struggle would only end it sooner.
The violent, bruising passion of his body pressed against hers began to lessen, and Buffy opened her eyes to a blank world. Already, Giles’ outline was beginning to fade, though he seemed almost to have not noticed it himself. And then she realized it. He was giving up…he was leaving. She dug her head into his chest with a sense of overwhelming helplessness. But then she suddenly pulled away and stared at him.
“No.”
Buffy hadn’t said the word loudly, but it somehow dominated the howl of the wind and seemed to sit above it, penetrating the impenetrable.
“Buffy, please,” Giles whispered, his words lost, looking at her with despair, fading a little more.
She didn’t respond to his attempt to pull her in again. Instead, she began to let herself feel the anger again, flashing at the unfairness of it all, but now it was bolstered with something else. If the problem before was that she wasn’t allowing him in, that she wasn’t open enough, well, she resolved, it was a mistake she’d pay for now. Even if the darkness took her as well.
Buffy knew the rules of this world enough by now to know it operated on thought. So she thought about it, letting her feelings for him swell up inside her, pushing them out and laying them bare before him in offering. It rolled over her, smothering all else, even her hatred for the demon. Buffy fully expected the action to leave her vulnerable, and waited to be ravaged and torn apart.
But the darkness didn’t come. No filth invaded her mind and no shadow raped her soul. Instead…she felt powerful. And yet, even when she reached out and held Giles’ hand above her heart, and begged him to fight, she knew she was still losing him, for though he looked at her with tender wonder, his face was still that of one who is already defeated. With her mind opened to him, she could feel him faintly in return and all she found was acceptance and despair.
What was wrong, she wondered? Why had she given herself over but remained untouched, but still found herself failing? Then it clicked. The demon truly was a creature of fear and hate. Giles had fought it long and hard during the weeks of hell, and was tired and overwhelmed, giving her the last of the positive emotion he had left. But her love…fresh and new, it was still potent and untouchable.
Her mind raced. How could she use it? Damnit, she thought, if he wouldn’t fight, she would do so for him. But considering how he had always reacted to anything she manifested in his mind, could he withstand it if she tried to do so now? There really wasn’t much of a choice. Already he was on his knees, and his form was so much dimmer in the nightscape.
Buffy started to envision in her mind what she wanted and was about to try to make it be, when it occurred to her exactly what the problem had been. She’d been so eager for the way out that she’d been forcing it on him all those times. How much easier to simply ask? But how… “I can’t accept this, Giles. I can’t…and you shouldn’t either. Help me!” she commanded.
Mentally she formed the picture and pushed that outward in the same way she’d done before, displaying it. The pitiful creature that was left of her Watcher looked up at her startled, but she felt the response like a nod. Giving the vision power, she shaped it in his mind with hers and the changes began.
Desperate, she’d chosen a form to protect him, though how she could do so physically, she didn’t know yet…she’d have to make it up as she went along. Her form grew taller, greater, and her shoulders itched for a moment before wings began to sprout and unfurl, ripping and shining like mercury as the shifted in form. They grew to an impressive span, then longer, reaching six feet, ten, twenty from tip to tip, glowing silver and bright before in a flash they grew bright enough to fight the dark, settling into a brilliant white. The pattern of delicate feathers formed, soft and white. But in her new form, Buffy felt anything but delicate.
Leather gauntlets laced themselves along her arms, light but unbreachable mail rested on her shoulders over a hardened leather armor kilbanion that boosted her chest and slimmed her form. This met with the leather pleats of what could almost be called a skirt. Tall boots ran along her calves to the knees, showing off the skin of her thighs above. As a walk-on to a Xena set she would have fit right in-she would have been perfectly outfitted to stand on the cover of her own comic book in fact, but it suited her needs. She summoned a flaming broadsword to cut the dark, leaving a brilliant arc, but one which quickly faded and made her cry out with a detrimental rage. No-only positive emotions, she reminded herself; anything else would feed the demon. Then her mind recalled the futility of weapons against the demon’s more physical form, and suddenly she doubted very much that they would serve her better now.
If she couldn’t fight the demon, she would keep it from what it wanted most. “No,” she said again, louder, stronger. Defiantly, she faced the dark. Her wings pulled to their full width, then were swiftly swept down and in front of her, curling themselves so their primary feathers overlapped at the tips, encircling. Without looking, she knew Giles-or what was left of him-lay within their embrace, wrapped in the love she held like a shield, daring the demon to break it.
The wind grew stronger, angrier as it tore at her. Buffy could feel it whipping back her hair, but more than that, she felt the strange sensation of it tearing at the feathers of her wings. But no matter how it bit and howled, not so much as a single snowy feather was torn free. “He is mine,” she said firmly, her voice steely in its assurance as she faced the nothing, flaming sword aloft. “I claim him. I love him.” She knew she did and the thought seemed to lift her, making her lighter as she rejoiced. Buffy turned the love into the circle, feeding it to the lifeforce she felt in the middle of it as if it were a physical and was reassured by the swelling response she felt in return. Could it be? The despair she had felt from him was abating. She thrust out her chin, feeling more confident. “And I’m sorry, but no two bit, ugly bat-winged demon can take him from me. I mean, seriously? Scary wind? Darkness? Evil visions? The average unimaginative ogre could come up with a scheme like that.”
It might be all bluster on her part, but what else could she do? Taunting was better than nothing for now, and yes, she was sure of it now. The tide of her battle to keep Giles had turned. He was stronger, he was taking her strength and re-growing his own. The question was, would it be enough? Or had her final fight only spelled the end for them both? “Love me, Giles,” she tried to tell him. “Don’t let it get to you…”
She felt the counterattack before she saw it. It hit her like a physical blow against her back, and she staggered, nearly knocked over. A second force took her on a wing, and it crumpled before she quickly reinforced her encirclement-but not before she caught a glimpse of Giles, still huddled, still on one knee, but there.
Buffy dropped to one knee and with her free arm held him close, laying his head against her armored chest, bringing her wings in tighter around him so that they touched him now. Still, she continued to shield him, nourish him, while she concentrated on the space around her, waiting again for an attack. This time she saw it coming. It was if the absence of light truly had a color darker and deeper than the mere void around them. Whatever was hurtling toward her was the size of a large dog, winged but amorphous, seeming to bend the black around it as it came at her with frightening speed. It was a reflex that bought her arm down so that the sword sliced it cleanly, causing it to halve. But the nightmarish beast did not die but simply became two.
As a horde, they came like hail. More came and she fought them, halving some again and again, as others came through her defenses and battered her, weakening her, as they blended their own monster cries with the that of the wind’s.
“I need something, Giles,” she told him fiercely, hoping he heard, as she didn’t dare let her concentration drift from the fight in order to look at him. A picture came to mind. Something that could fight for her. Something that could take down the flying beasts. Birds. Giant white eagles. She concentrated…and they came! Great things of light that dove down from some unseen point above and banked only at the last moment to circle. More shadow creatures came and the birds met them head on, crumpling and falling to earth. Some rose again, others did not.
At first it seemed as if they were at least evenly matched, but then Buffy begin to feel the pull on her resources as more and more of their defenders fell. She had no idea about the endurance of the demon, but her own was flagging. And yet…Giles was stirring now. He’d turned around in her arms and seemed to be helping her, directing the birds. Arrows of blue flame joined them flitting across like moonbeams, and she knew they were of his own creation. But he was still more tired than she, and she knew it. This couldn’t last.
“Giles.” He didn’t respond. With her off-sword hand she shook his shoulder and forced him to look at her, though the minute she did, the arrows wavered and faded. “Giles, please.”
“Buffy,” he croaked, and his eyes seemed to hold a kind of sadness. Did he not know how dangerous that was? “Thank you. But…”
“No, Giles,” she told him furiously, realizing he still was on the verge of giving over, “don’t give up. Never. Just look at me. The demon said I was blocking you before, right? Well I’m letting you in now, Giles. I love you. I do. And I trust you. This is just another big bad we have to face, and it isn’t stronger than both of us…it can’t be, because if it is, then this doesn’t matter. But it’s your mind, Giles. It feeds on the bad emotions so you have to try think about only the good ones. You have to be the one to fight him…I see that now. But I also see that you need me to do it. I can give you the way. So use me. Please. I’ll let you…just, fight.
“Buffy, I…” he seemed to hesitate, unsure himself, but then suddenly he drew himself up and kissed her. Buffy could feel it now-it wasn’t just the mere power she’d been offering him that he took now, but more. He drew from her, plunging his mind deep inside and at first she wanted to resist, her mind naturally screaming to protect itself, to keep itself distant. But she fought her reaction down and gave willingly, letting his mind dominate hers, and forcing herself to submit. Eventually it seemed as if he had pulled her from her body entirely, mingling her essence with his, and indeed the warrior form she’d constructed, crumpled and fell as his stood tall now, head high, shoulders squared. This was the man she knew-the one she loved before she knew such a thing was possible. He had fought beside her and for her so many times, always with the thought of protecting her, but now he had to protect himself to save them both.
A black thing dodged a bird and took him in the shoulder. He staggered, but kept his feet. Leaning down, Giles plucked the flaming sword from where it had fallen and held it high himself. At first it seemed he too would take up the futile task of trying to physically fight the never-ending onslaught, but instead he held the sword high, then plunged it downward, between the area where her wings lay, still arced about the ground around his feet.
In a crack, the wind died, seeming abruptly louder in its silence than anything she could imagine. For a moment, the hard surface on which she lay seemed to tremble. A breathless eternity waited while time seemed to stand still. Then, impossibly, the surface split and light showed bright through the crack. Tendrils spread outward, slow at first, then faster, covering the ground in a brilliant spiderweb of light. The cracks traveled upward, finding smooth walls in his brain, forming a ceiling. Then again, there was a tension of stillness…it was a fight…a struggle of wills.
Buffy reached deep, thinking of late night research at the library. Of how he’d welcomed her back after she’d run away without blame and only joy. Of the way that she felt alive for the first time after crawling out of the ground when she saw him standing in the Magic Box. Of the way he’d fought the mayor. Of his quiet support of her when she’d faced Angelus, even though his personal loss was great. Of training until they were both exhausted. Of the way he always offered her tea after patrol. Of the way they’d talked in their house in Cleveland. Of cardgames and movies. Of quiet touches and of their first kiss a mere moment ago. She gathered it all and sent it to him, and the ground trembled again, and then…
The boom was deafening! The darkness fell like ash and gave way to light all around them, pure and radiant. The remaining creatures fell to the ground with pitiful cries and withered to nothing while the eagles soared away victorious. But her wonder was short lived as Giles called out for her. “Buffy! The way out…NOW!” he demanded.
She felt him feeding back the power and, sitting up, she understood. Taking what he gave, she formed it. This time, for the first time, he did not wince or fall. Instead, the pavement rose up beneath them and the sky crashed down from above. Trees grew on either side to join the two and spread their branches. Grass rolled out like a carpet. Houses pulled themselves together board by board, growing driveways next to mailboxes and fences that popped up as fast as the flowers that lined the planters in her neighbor’s yard. And in the middle of it all, there stood, just as before, but far more complete, 1630 Revello Drive. He grabbed her hand to pull her up, just as she heard the terrifying roar from above.
Together they sprinted as the demon chased them, a red-eyed shadow falling along the ground, a mere block away but gaining ground. Buffy almost stumbled on the steps, but he caught her, half pulling, half pushing her up the stairs. When they got to the door, she flung it open. “You first?” she breathed and he nodded. She saw him tense, bracing himself based on past experience, but when he stepped though, there was no resistance, and Buffy stepped through behind him, just as the shadow reached the steps and went for the doormat. But by the time it reached the frame, she was already gone.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Immediately there was confusion and noise. “Ms. Summers!” someone was shouting, while she heard Xander’s voice saying, “please, just leave her alone.” Somehow, he was knocked aside by one of the struggling nurses who rushed to her and began to shake her shoulder, then reached for a pulse.
“Huh?” Buffy said, dazed, and bolting upright.
“Oh thank goodness!” the nurse exclaimed, “you seemed to be having a seizure and we thought…”
Buffy didn’t pay much attention to the explanation of those around her talking about how she’d been calling out and spasming. Or of how Willow, with Xander and Elyssa as reinforcements, had tried to shield her from the eager hands of the staff who couldn’t help but notice the noise, knowing that while in his mind, breaking physical contact with him in the real world could be deadly. Instead, Buffy’s eyes were on one thing…his face, and silently she prayed to whatever powers would listen. And then…Giles’ eyes opened-or tried to against the tape-and he started to cough and struggle. She ripped off the tape and was grateful that the nurse immediately noticed as well.
“My god,” the nurse said, stunned.
“Giles,” Buffy sobbed gratefully. “Don’t fight. It’s over…” she turned to the nurse. “I think he’s trying to breathe on his own…please?”
An aide was already coming into the room, alerted by the button the nurse had pressed. Buffy’s words spurred them both back to their professional selves and into action.
The next long minutes were a flurry of action. Apparently the revival of a long-term coma patient was enough to bring not only a few incidental staff but half of the doctors on the floor as well. The respirator tube came out, vitals were checked, and Giles was generally poked and prodded. Buffy watched, dazed, but willing to stand out of their way simply because for now he was alive, and that was enough. One of the staff finally told them they had to leave. Buffy ignored him long enough to take Giles hand and give it a squeeze, promising to come back. Then she cut off Xander’s protest and agreed to wait outside.
“You okay, Buffy?” he asked her in the hall.
Her smile was genuine for the first time in a long time. “More than. We won, Xander.”
“It’s all good?” he asked, still a bit stunned and uncertain.
“All good,” she agreed. Then a sudden thought struck and she turned to Willow, a little panicked. “He’ll remember, won’t he? The last few months…me and him, he’ll remember it too, right?”
Willow hesitated and Buffy noticed. “Probably. I…It’s not for sure though.”
She bit her lip and finally said shakily. “Either way, it’s okay. He loved me before, and even if he didn’t, just having him okay is good enough.”
Elyssa nodded and Buffy was surprised how grateful she was when the other girl gave her a hug. “I only met him that once, but if he’s even half the man you all think he is, it will definitely be okay.” Elyssa smiled. “And after all the tales I’ve heard from Willow, I for one can’t wait to meet him.”
Which would be better, Buffy wondered? Having him know about the time they’d spent together in his mind, how desperately they’d both cherished those visits and how it had been in the end? How it had felt to share love like that? Or would it be a blessing to have him forget it all and not remember what had basically been months of mental torture? Selfishly she wondered if it might also be better if he didn’t know it was her own reluctance that had kept him there so long and almost lost him forever, but it was a mean thought and she pushed it down.
For the time being, all any of them could do was to wait.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Miss Summers?” the voice was asking, dragging her back to consciousness from where she slept fitfully against Xander’s shoulder.
“Mr. Giles is asking for you.” That got her attention.
“We wanted to let him rest, but well, I don’t think that’s going to be possible until he gets his way.”
Dawn had made it to the hospital shortly after she’d heard the news and was with them now to squeeze Buffy’s hand. “That sounds like him!” she said.
“Just me?” Buffy asked looking around at her friends.
The attendant sighed, but looked like she knew she’d be fighting a losing battle. “I’ll leave that up to you. Just try to keep the excitement down, please?”
“I…” Buffy knew the others would want to see him too…after all, when she thought about it, they’d been without him for months whereas she had been with him mere hours ago, really. “He’ll want to see everyone. Just…could you give me a few minutes first?”
“Go, Buff,” Xander said and the others nodded.
Wordlessly, Buffy followed the attendant down the hall, until a thought occurred to her. After a few minutes of arguing and another put out look, she got her way, and the attendant left her at the door as she went to go fulfill the request.
Buffy wanted to rush to him, but found herself holding back. “Hey,” she said quietly when he looked up.
The moment grew awkward. Giles started to raise a hand, but let it drop again. “Tell me,” he said in a voice so gravelly that Buffy realized just how long it had been since he’d actually used it, “what happened?”
Disappointment hit her so hard she could have cried, but she couldn’t show him that. “There was this demon with some pretty powerful mojo, and you got zapped into a coma…and it was my fault. I went into your mind to find you, and…” Her throat clenched and she could feel tears threatening, “Do you remember any of it, Giles? My visits? The time we spent together? That last fight? And the things I told you about how I feel? It’s okay if you don’t,” she said, talking quickly, “but I need to know.”
The bed was propped upright so he could sit, but he seemed to sag back further into it, heavily, but with relief. “Then it’s real. I was afraid-I still…”
Buffy took the last few steps to the bed and put her hands on the siderail, clenching it as she told him fiercely. “All of it. Everything was real…or at least it felt that way. But here, now, this is real too, and I still mean what I told you. Every word. Or every good word anyway. The part where I love you…and don’t worry, this is no fantasy. Try it. The mind tricks won’t work here…no appearing objects, no empty books. It happened, but we won.”
There was a knock at the door before he could answer, and the beleaguered attendant came in, tray in hand. Buffy thanked her and she left, leaving the tray and its contents behind.
“Hey. Gift for you,” Buffy told him, smiling, fixing the tray onto the handrails so it sat across his lap. “Every time I visited there seemed to be one thing you were always complaining about.”
Giles eyed the bowl of creamy yellow glop suspiciously. “Uh…”
“Pudding. It’s all I could convince them to let you have right now, but after living on the food around here for the last two months, I can vouch that the lemon pudding is one of the best items on the menu. Just be glad they didn’t bring that curdled milk they call tapioca.”
“I suppose I’ll have to trust you.”
“You’d better, mister. But find out for yourself.”
She handed him a spoon and he took it, but found his fingers were having trouble gripping. Giles managed to get it into the pudding and started to raise it up, but Buffy could tell it was about to be a disaster. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around his and took the spoon from him. She started to bring it up to his lips to offer it to him.
“Buffy…” he looked at her in consternation and seeing such a characteristic Giles expression gave her a little joy, though she didn’t dare smile when he looked so serious.
“No, don’t talk. It hurts to talk right? They warned me about that after you having the tube for so long, but that’s okay. Just listen: I know, you don’t want me to do things for you, but it’s all right. You’ll get better. By tomorrow you probably will be doing this for yourself. And don’t worry; I won’t think any less of you. With the Giles look of death you’re giving me, how could I?”
Giles leaned forward and opened his mouth, accepting the offering. She was right; it was good pudding and suddenly he realized how very hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten in weeks, after all, feeding tube or not. Buffy didn’t have any trouble offering him a second bite.
“Don’t be afraid of this, okay? You’re going to need help for a while, and I want to be there for you. But I’m scared you’ll shut me out because you’ve always been with the pride and the no-showing weakness and all. And I couldn’t bear that. Not after everything.” She sighed and dipped the spoon again as his eyes searched her face. “I know…I’ve come a long ways since I died, but I’m still fragile and this latest experience? Well, it didn’t help. Though I did realize how much I need you.” Quickly she hastened to add, “Not in the bad needy way, I mean, but in the I really, really want to be with you way. And if you won’t let me be there for things like this, well…just let me, okay?”
He nodded solemnly, accepting. Buffy continued to feed him and they sat in comfortable silence for the next several minute until a light tap came on the door. As much as Giles wouldn’t want her seeing his weakness, he’d want the others seeing it less-she removed the tray before saying “come in.”
Xander walked right up to the bed and hugged the other man hard. “Glad you could make it, G-man,” he said, his own voice thick. “You scared us.”
“Scared myself,” Giles said in reply, gripping Xander back with as much strength as he could manage. “How are you?” he asked, eyeing the younger man. Xander looked healthy at least. That was an improvement from when Giles had seen him last, though he knew Buffy had told him Xander was improving if still in a lot of emotional pain.
Xander nodded, understanding the whole intent of the question. “Better. Life goes on.”
“Good.”
“You sound pretty hoarse, Giles, but I guess two months of sleeping does that, huh? Anyway, it’s really great to see you awake. Don’t you ever scare us like that again, okay?” Dawn told him fiercely, appearing by Xander. “It’s not nice. You’re supposed to be indestructible and you were seriously ruining that image.” Then she dropped the stern act. “Seriously though, I missed you.” She too hugged him. “We all did.”
“Definitely,” Willow agreed, smiling.
“But there’s one thing I want to check.” Willow said a few words in Latin and waved her hands a bit, then nodded. “I thought so.”
“Care to share with the class?” Dawn asked.
“The demon…it’s still there.”
That’s right, Buffy realized! They’d seen it as they ran from it, but they hadn’t seen it destroyed. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh god.”
Willow realized immediately what the problem was. “It’s not possessing him anymore…it’s just sorta there.”
“Can you…remove it?” Giles asked, not surprised by her diagnosis but feeling contaminated nonetheless.
Willow’s eyes narrowed. “Probably. But hon?” she looked at Elyssa, “would you?”
Elyssa blushed at their attention. “Energy extraction is a talent of mine.”
“That’s Elyssa,” Buffy said by way of introduction. “I told you that you’d like her.”
With a nod of permission from Giles, the witch reached in her backpack and fiddled around until she found what she wanted. The spell itself turned out to be relatively painless.
“Got it!” Elyssa announced triumphantly after only about a minute, holding aloft a bottle.
Buffy looked at it startled to see only a small blackish thing laying on the bottom, barely the size and shape of a large marble. “That’s it?”
Willow took the bottle and squinted at it. “Yeah. Tiny but icky.” She shuddered. Then she walked over to Giles and laid a hand on his arm to test his energy yet again. “But that’s all of it. You’re clean.”
“Thank god,” Buffy said, and felt the pressure of agreement on her hand. Then she pointed at the bottle. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Giles?” Willow asked, looking at him steadily.
“Destroy it,” he croaked.
Buffy nodded agreement from her post beside the bed.
As they watched, Willow made a clenching motion with her fist and the black lump in the bottle imploded, spreading a black putrid ooze as it was crushed. So easy. Giles breathed a sigh of relief and let go of the tension. It was over. It was over and…
Buffy brushed a hand across his cheek. “I’ll never be afraid to say it again; I love you, Giles,” she whispered, not noticing as the others silently slid from the room.
He squeezed her hand, keeping his gaze steadily on hers. “And I you.” They sat quietly for a moment, just taking it in. Then Giles seemed to grow more somber as he broke off his look and stared instead at the railing of the bed. “But Buffy, I…I can’t even properly hold you like this. I’m sorry.”
She cut him off, guessing his concern. Softly she brushed the hair against the side of his face. Xander was right…it was longer than it ever had been, but she thought that maybe wasn’t a bad thing. “It’s okay; besides, I can still hold you.” To prove it, she lifted herself up in the bed and lay down beside him, pulling his arm so that it lay over her body.
“You’re weak right now, and you will be for a while. I told you before-I know. But you’re alive and you’re here, and those are two very, very good things. I’ll wait as long as it takes…weeks, months, a year, whatever. And I’ll be here for all of it. They said the therapist would be coming in regularly and knowing you and your being all over-achievery you’ll be walking in no time. And then…well then I get to take you home. Then it’s my turn to train you for a while.” She grew a wicked grin. “Never thought I’d get the chance to best you at the broadsword, but I’ll have fun kicking your rather cute ass, Watcherman.”
“Oh you will, will you?” Giles said in his raspy voice smiling, in spite of himself. “And I’m supposed to be looking forward to this?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Because the ass-kicking leads to soreness. And that calls for your own personal Slayer masseuse-me by the way, since I’m the original version,” Buffy clarified, lest he think she was going to thrust him off on one of her juniors, “and a hot bath. And then,” she whispered and her voice grew huskier in a way that Giles had never heard but which sent shivers down his spine, “well, we’ll just have to see what trouble we can get into from there…”
He got a roughish leer that thrilled her. “I’m sure I can think of something. For now…come closer.”
She pushed herself up and leaned down to kiss him, tenderly, remembering that this was their first kiss…again. Then she lay back, head against his chest. “Buffy?” he asked, noticing her face.
“Happy tears,” she assured him, and he smiled.
End: May 22, 2006