[action] & [audio]

[slaying]

[Early, early Sunday morning, Buffy is at Giles' apartment and unshackling her chained prisoners. She is morose, guilt-ridden, and fairly worn out after these last two weeks. Her everything seems to hurt and she cannot figure out whether it's from stress or all the fights she has been getting into. Or maybe it had something to do with suddenly no

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[consultmybooks]

[Giles feels absolutely disgusting. He aches all over, his clothes are ruined with old bloodstains and the taste of blood is still in his mouth and would probably make him physically ill if he had actually had anything in his stomach to lose

[slaying]

[Buffy stands aside, her arms crossed. She also does not quite get what to say. She just avoids eye-contact. Focuses on the fact that it's over.]

[consultmybooks]

[Has he actually eaten anything this past week? His mind and his body can't seem to agree - his brain is telling him no, his body is saying yes, but mostly he's exhausted and wants very much to go back to sleep.

Giles manages a nod once the shackles are off, although not one that's obviously directed at Buffy. His voice is quiet, and a little hoarse, probably from all the growling.]

Thank you.

[slaying]

[He looks so tired. Buffy frowns and throws a hand out to the Watcher on the floor.]

Let me help you to your bed, Giles.

[consultmybooks]

[Legs hurt. Shoulders hurt. Ribs hurt. Hands hurt. It's his own fault - Giles hadn't exactly taken being locked up peacefully. There are cracks in the wall around him that testify to that.

He needs the hand up, and so he takes it, risking a glance at her as he does.] Thank you.

Have you s-seen my glasses?

[slaying]

[She pulls upwards.] I'm guessing they're around here, somewhere.

[consultmybooks]

[And then Giles is standing. He keeps one hand braced against the wall, just in case, but otherwise manages to stay upright.]

D-Don't think I had the chance to break them... [He frowns for a second, trying to remember, and then:] Kitchen counter.

[slaying]

I'll...I'll go get them. Just--lean here, okay?

[She won't leave till he agrees.]

[consultmybooks]

[Giles nods.] Y-Yes. Um, leaning. I'll do that. [And he leans a bit more securely against the wall.

He never really realized it until now, but the patterning in his carpet is ridiculous and ugly. Even so, Giles finds himself staring at it as Buffy goes to get his glasses.

He knows that he'll miss not needing them.]

[slaying]

[She is back with them soon. She tucks the glasses into his hands.]

[consultmybooks]

[Giles takes them and slips them on, blinking once or twice as the world slips back into focus.]

Better. [Just a bit.]

[slaying]

Sorry about the...y'know, chains and stuff.

[consultmybooks]

[He manages not to laugh, at that. But the smile is bitter and broken and strange. His voice, however, is kind.]

It's not as though your other alternative would have been any better for me.

[slaying]

If only Andrew was so...[she can't finish the sentence. While de-aged, she had staked Andrew.]

[consultmybooks]

[Giles can't stop a small gasp of surprise, at that. The news that one of them hadn't survived the week feels like another punch to the gut, and he's suddenly grateful for the wall.]

Oh.

[slaying]

It's 'cause I didn't know him, Giles. I spent most of last week being seventeen again. [Almost seventeen.] I didn't know who he was when I did it. Otherwise I would have taken him right back here.