Once Giles had gotten the fire started, she sat in front of it, letting it warm her up. As she stared into the flames, she found herself thinking back over what had happened in the alley. She really hadn't approached it - or him - too well, and as result, she understood Giles' compulsion not to trust anyone, especially when working in the world they did. She could very well have easily been a vampire seeing him as easy prey...or Illyria, apparently.
The thought that some ancient Demon monarch had been using her body and impersonating her made her sick to her stomach. She could only imagine what it had been like for Wesley. Maybe she shouldn't have trusted so much, then she wouldn't have been killed by whoever had sent that sarcophagus.
And then she wouldn't be here now, uncertain as to how she could even help Giles, especially the way she was feeling. "Don't know why you thought I could do this," she said with a sigh, not even knowing if they were listening.
Looking over her shoulder out of the parlor, she could hear Giles moving around in the kitchen. She concentrated on him for a moment and then realized she could...sense something from him. Sadness, anger, defeat. Her throat tightened. She could actually feel it. Was this one of the special abilities Cordy had told her about? They had made her empathic?
"He's so lost," she whispered. "What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to make him believe in himself again?"
Giles finished making the tea and placed it, along with a few other things, including chocolate biscuits, on a service tray. He roughly wiped the tears from his eyes, not wanting Fred to see him like this. Giles knew how broken he was and he was becoming good at putting up a front.
When he came back to the parlor, he saw her sitting by the fire and stopped. Now that they weren't in a dark alley, he could see how beautiful Fred truly was. Shaking his head, he stepped further in and placed the tray on the coffee table. "I didn't know what you took in your tea so I brought some sugar, cream and honey along with," Giles said before sitting on the sofa. "And chocolate biscuits. Ch-Chocolate is always good."
He reached forward and picked up one of the cups of tea and took a sip from it, figuring Fred could make her own. "I'm afraid the Powers have made a mistake. My life isn't worth saving. I-I think perhaps they have me mistaken with someone else." Giles took another sip of tea. "I'm not worth much anymore."
Fred looked up when Giles came into the room with the tea tray, wanting to hug him so badly despite what had happened between them earlier in the alley. She could understand his feelings, especially since she was going through them herself. Was this why she had been sent? Because she could sympathize?
"Thank you," she said quietly, suddenly realizing that she hadn't actually eaten in almost a year if what Cordelia had told her was true. Did she even need to eat anymore? Sitting up, she put some sugar and cream into her tea and was about to pick up the cup when Giles told her that the Powers had probably been wrong to send her to help him. She shook her head and instead reached over to put her hand on Giles' arm, not wanting to scare him or make him uncomfortable by doing anything else.
"From what I've heard about you, that's not true. Willow said that without your help, she never would have been able to overcome what happened to her last--a couple of years ago, and Wesley always said he respected you and thought you were the best the Watchers Council had to offer. Even Cordelia said she thought you're a good man. She's the one that told me it was important to help you, and I believe her." She looked down at the floor for a moment before raising her eyes back up to meet his. "I want to help you. I can see you're a good man, too."
Giles watched as Fred put the sugar and cream in her tea. He pondered her existence for a brief moment, wondering if he could find a book on what she really was. Was she an angel? An entity? A human? It confused him and interested him all at the same time. He furrowed his brow in thought, which flew out the window when she touched him.
There was a tingle in his arm and it make him jerk it back. "Don't," he harshly whispered after he let her words sink in. "I was a right git to Wesley - even relished in the fact he'd gotten fired. And I did nothing to help Willow. I allowed her to beat me down. The credit goes to Xander and the coven for helping her. Don't you bloody get it? I do more harm than I do good. I lived my life, thinking it was just bad luck but it's really me."
He took a sip from his tea and stood from the couch. "You'll need something to sleep in," Giles said. "You can stay the night but you have to leave come morning. Go help someone who isn't old and who isn't me. You'll just end up dying again if you're around me. Maybe you can guide one of the younger Slayers. They're young and of use, unlike me."
Giles left the parlor and went to his room. He tried to ignore the picture on the dresser but couldn't. It'd been taken one year during Christmas. Him and all the Scoobies. They were like his children and now they barely acted like he existed. Looking away from it, Giles pulled a shirt out for her and brought it back to the parlor. "There's a spare room next door. You can sleep there tonight but after that you have to leave."
He went toward the parlor door again and stopped, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry you came here for nothing," he said before stepping out of the room.
Fred sat back when Giles jerked away from her, her eyes opening wide at the expression on his face and the emotions that were rolling off him. He really did believe what he was saying, that despite everything he had done, he hadn't done much good, only harm. And she knew that wasn't true. She knew.
Before she could figure out what to say to him, he was telling her that she could stay the night but had to leave in the morning and then leaving the room. She sat there for a moment, not sure what to do. How could she make him see what others saw? What even she could tell though she wasn't completely sure how? How could he feel this way after everything he had done?
When he came back in, he gave her a t-shirt and told her she could take the spare room before repeating that she had to leave in the morning. Standing up, she followed him out.
"Giles, stop. Please," she said. "I--maybe...can you at least talk to me? Tell me why this has happened, why you feel this way? I...I know what it's like not to have someone to talk to for so long that you start building all it up inside until you feel like either you're going crazy or you've been forgotten and don't matter any more. But I'm here because you do matter, so at the very least...I can listen."
When Fred asked him to talk to her, Giles had to bite back a bitter laugh. He turned and looked at her, his eyes staring into hers. “You really want to know about all my failures and how I’ve gotten here? Will that make you feel better, seeing how weak I am?” he hiss out, wanting to advance on her but he stayed in his spot. “I failed all of them Fred. All of them!”
He shook his head. “When I came to Sunnydale, I was supposed to be Buffy’s Watcher and I failed. Within months, she died and Xander had to rescue her. I should’ve rescued her, not Xander! And it doesn’t stop there,” he said, the painful lump forming in his throat. “I left Jenny, the woman I loved, alone in the school and Angelus killed her and put her dead body in my bed. I should’ve stayed there with her.”
Giles paused for a moment and rubbed his forehead in frustration. He hated having to relive all his failures. “Then Buffy died again in order to save Dawn. I should’ve been able to figure out another way. And have she died, I left because I couldn’t handle things. I abandoned all of them. If I would’ve stayed, Willow would have never raised Buffy from the grave and when I did come back, I yelled at Willow instead of helping her. Maybe if I had helped, she wouldn’t had killed Warren!”
The hot tears were returned to his eyes and he looked down. “Now they want nothing to do with me because they’ve finally seen what sort of person I am,” he quietly said. He looked up, tears running down his face. “Happy now that you see me for what I really am? Perhaps you shouldn’t stay here. You’ll probably end up dead or hurt because of me.”
Fred stared at him as he castigated himself, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong in the lives of Buffy and the others, taking it all on himself. He really believed that it was all his fault - that no one else had any responsibility for any of it. It wasn't fair that he was taking it all on his shoulders, not based on what she knew.
"You are not a failure," she told him, walking forward to stand closer in front of him. "Wesley told me that you saved his life, and he was always grateful for that even though he acted like a...what was the word? Wanker? That's it. Even though he acted like a wanker toward you and Buffy. And...and I've met Angelus...how you can--the things he's done..."
She saw the tears in his eyes and pulled out the handkerchief he had given her, reaching up to dab the tears away. "Everyone makes mistakes. God knows I've made enough of them - if I hadn't opened up the book that sent me to Pylea, if I hadn't let Angelus get the upper hand on me and escape with the books, if I hadn't gone to Wolfram and Har, if I hadn't touched that damn sarcophagus. From what I know, you've done many good things, and you've helped a lot of people."
She looked down at the floor for a moment. "And don't ask me how, but I know that you won't hurt me. I've already died once and been hurt so many times, especially in Pylea. So you can try to send me away, but I'm still going to help you some way. You may not think you deserve it, but I do."
"If I'm so bloody wonderful than why don't they need me anymore?" Giles asked, his voice raising a bit in anger. He took a deep breath, knowing none of this was Fred's fault and he shouldn't take it out on her. She was just as lost as he was, which he found a bit concerning, seeing how she was supposed to save him.
When she pressed the hanky against his cheek, Giles found himself pressing into her touch. When was the last time someone had touched him because they wanted to, not because they had by accident? And Fred touching him felt nice and it seemed to warm him deep down. "I only saved Wesley because I didn't want to deal with the Council." A small smile lifted on his lips to show it was a bad joke, but it quickly disappeared.
"I don't want to feel so useless anymore but I don't know how to stop it," he sobbed. He needed more from her; he needed human contact. Stepping forward, he pressed his forehead against her shoulder and continued to cry, hoping she would do nothing more than hold him.
Fred felt him responding to her touch when she reached up to wipe his tears away, so she didn't move away. She could sense how much he needed this, how much he needed someone. She could see he was trying be brave, though, when he tried to brush off what he had done for Wesley, the smile on his face quickly appearing and disappearing.
It was then that he completely broke down, telling her how he didn't want to feel useless anymore. Fred felt her heart breaking, hearing him so defeated and broken - he really did think he was anachronism, and it wasn't fair after everything he had apparently been through for Buffy, for Willow, because of Angelus. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be forgotten and treated this way.
"You're not useless, Rupert," she told him softly, reaching up to wrap her arms around him when he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "You're not. You're smart and knowledgeable, I can tell, and I'll stay here with you as long as you need me to."
She then just held him, closing her eyes. If they had to stand there all night, she would.
Giles allowed himself to be held as Fred told him he wasn't useless. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been told that. It was something he desperately needed to hear, especially now. He felt the coldness that had consumed his heart for so long melt away as Fred held him in her arms.
"Thank you," he whispered against her shoulder. He pulled away, his hands still on her back. "That's what I needed to hear. I just needed to know someone believed in me again." Slipping his hands off her, he took a small step back and wiped his face off. It was still early and he suddenly remembered why she was there.
"Someone is out to hurt me?" Giles asked as his brow furrowed. "Do you know who or way?" He tried to think of all of his enemies, which seemed like a long list. He went over to the couch and sat down. The tea was still warm and he poured himself soon. "Is it Ethan Rayne? Is he trying to hurt me?"
Fred reached up briefly to run her hand across Giles' temple when he pulled back from their embrace, giving him a gentle smile. "You're welcome," she told him softly, glad that she could help him in some way. Despite the way things had started out with him, she was finding that she really did like him - there was so much to him, she could feel. So much more than she was sure he showed the world.
When he stepped back out of her arms, she let him go, even though part of her wanted to continue to hold him. When he started to ask her questions about who was trying to hurt him, she followed him back to the parlor to sit down, shaking her head when he mentioned someone named Ethan Rayne.
"I don't know unless he's a member of the Council," she told him, picking up the cup of tea she hadn't had a chance to touch yet and taking a sip. "From what I was told, there are people who don't like the changes that have been made to the Council since you took over as Chairman. Apparently, they've targeted you - I guess because they want to return things to the old way. Cordy didn't tell me exactly who they were, but I would imagine that they were part of the old Council? People who were very much into the old traditions and might even have made their dislike of what you're doing known? Can you think of anyone who that might be?"
The thought that some ancient Demon monarch had been using her body and impersonating her made her sick to her stomach. She could only imagine what it had been like for Wesley. Maybe she shouldn't have trusted so much, then she wouldn't have been killed by whoever had sent that sarcophagus.
And then she wouldn't be here now, uncertain as to how she could even help Giles, especially the way she was feeling. "Don't know why you thought I could do this," she said with a sigh, not even knowing if they were listening.
Looking over her shoulder out of the parlor, she could hear Giles moving around in the kitchen. She concentrated on him for a moment and then realized she could...sense something from him. Sadness, anger, defeat. Her throat tightened. She could actually feel it. Was this one of the special abilities Cordy had told her about? They had made her empathic?
"He's so lost," she whispered. "What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to make him believe in himself again?"
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When he came back to the parlor, he saw her sitting by the fire and stopped. Now that they weren't in a dark alley, he could see how beautiful Fred truly was. Shaking his head, he stepped further in and placed the tray on the coffee table. "I didn't know what you took in your tea so I brought some sugar, cream and honey along with," Giles said before sitting on the sofa. "And chocolate biscuits. Ch-Chocolate is always good."
He reached forward and picked up one of the cups of tea and took a sip from it, figuring Fred could make her own. "I'm afraid the Powers have made a mistake. My life isn't worth saving. I-I think perhaps they have me mistaken with someone else." Giles took another sip of tea. "I'm not worth much anymore."
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"Thank you," she said quietly, suddenly realizing that she hadn't actually eaten in almost a year if what Cordelia had told her was true. Did she even need to eat anymore? Sitting up, she put some sugar and cream into her tea and was about to pick up the cup when Giles told her that the Powers had probably been wrong to send her to help him. She shook her head and instead reached over to put her hand on Giles' arm, not wanting to scare him or make him uncomfortable by doing anything else.
"From what I've heard about you, that's not true. Willow said that without your help, she never would have been able to overcome what happened to her last--a couple of years ago, and Wesley always said he respected you and thought you were the best the Watchers Council had to offer. Even Cordelia said she thought you're a good man. She's the one that told me it was important to help you, and I believe her." She looked down at the floor for a moment before raising her eyes back up to meet his. "I want to help you. I can see you're a good man, too."
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There was a tingle in his arm and it make him jerk it back. "Don't," he harshly whispered after he let her words sink in. "I was a right git to Wesley - even relished in the fact he'd gotten fired. And I did nothing to help Willow. I allowed her to beat me down. The credit goes to Xander and the coven for helping her. Don't you bloody get it? I do more harm than I do good. I lived my life, thinking it was just bad luck but it's really me."
He took a sip from his tea and stood from the couch. "You'll need something to sleep in," Giles said. "You can stay the night but you have to leave come morning. Go help someone who isn't old and who isn't me. You'll just end up dying again if you're around me. Maybe you can guide one of the younger Slayers. They're young and of use, unlike me."
Giles left the parlor and went to his room. He tried to ignore the picture on the dresser but couldn't. It'd been taken one year during Christmas. Him and all the Scoobies. They were like his children and now they barely acted like he existed. Looking away from it, Giles pulled a shirt out for her and brought it back to the parlor. "There's a spare room next door. You can sleep there tonight but after that you have to leave."
He went toward the parlor door again and stopped, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry you came here for nothing," he said before stepping out of the room.
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Before she could figure out what to say to him, he was telling her that she could stay the night but had to leave in the morning and then leaving the room. She sat there for a moment, not sure what to do. How could she make him see what others saw? What even she could tell though she wasn't completely sure how? How could he feel this way after everything he had done?
When he came back in, he gave her a t-shirt and told her she could take the spare room before repeating that she had to leave in the morning. Standing up, she followed him out.
"Giles, stop. Please," she said. "I--maybe...can you at least talk to me? Tell me why this has happened, why you feel this way? I...I know what it's like not to have someone to talk to for so long that you start building all it up inside until you feel like either you're going crazy or you've been forgotten and don't matter any more. But I'm here because you do matter, so at the very least...I can listen."
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He shook his head. “When I came to Sunnydale, I was supposed to be Buffy’s Watcher and I failed. Within months, she died and Xander had to rescue her. I should’ve rescued her, not Xander! And it doesn’t stop there,” he said, the painful lump forming in his throat. “I left Jenny, the woman I loved, alone in the school and Angelus killed her and put her dead body in my bed. I should’ve stayed there with her.”
Giles paused for a moment and rubbed his forehead in frustration. He hated having to relive all his failures. “Then Buffy died again in order to save Dawn. I should’ve been able to figure out another way. And have she died, I left because I couldn’t handle things. I abandoned all of them. If I would’ve stayed, Willow would have never raised Buffy from the grave and when I did come back, I yelled at Willow instead of helping her. Maybe if I had helped, she wouldn’t had killed Warren!”
The hot tears were returned to his eyes and he looked down. “Now they want nothing to do with me because they’ve finally seen what sort of person I am,” he quietly said. He looked up, tears running down his face. “Happy now that you see me for what I really am? Perhaps you shouldn’t stay here. You’ll probably end up dead or hurt because of me.”
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"You are not a failure," she told him, walking forward to stand closer in front of him. "Wesley told me that you saved his life, and he was always grateful for that even though he acted like a...what was the word? Wanker? That's it. Even though he acted like a wanker toward you and Buffy. And...and I've met Angelus...how you can--the things he's done..."
She saw the tears in his eyes and pulled out the handkerchief he had given her, reaching up to dab the tears away. "Everyone makes mistakes. God knows I've made enough of them - if I hadn't opened up the book that sent me to Pylea, if I hadn't let Angelus get the upper hand on me and escape with the books, if I hadn't gone to Wolfram and Har, if I hadn't touched that damn sarcophagus. From what I know, you've done many good things, and you've helped a lot of people."
She looked down at the floor for a moment. "And don't ask me how, but I know that you won't hurt me. I've already died once and been hurt so many times, especially in Pylea. So you can try to send me away, but I'm still going to help you some way. You may not think you deserve it, but I do."
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When she pressed the hanky against his cheek, Giles found himself pressing into her touch. When was the last time someone had touched him because they wanted to, not because they had by accident? And Fred touching him felt nice and it seemed to warm him deep down. "I only saved Wesley because I didn't want to deal with the Council." A small smile lifted on his lips to show it was a bad joke, but it quickly disappeared.
"I don't want to feel so useless anymore but I don't know how to stop it," he sobbed. He needed more from her; he needed human contact. Stepping forward, he pressed his forehead against her shoulder and continued to cry, hoping she would do nothing more than hold him.
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It was then that he completely broke down, telling her how he didn't want to feel useless anymore. Fred felt her heart breaking, hearing him so defeated and broken - he really did think he was anachronism, and it wasn't fair after everything he had apparently been through for Buffy, for Willow, because of Angelus. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be forgotten and treated this way.
"You're not useless, Rupert," she told him softly, reaching up to wrap her arms around him when he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "You're not. You're smart and knowledgeable, I can tell, and I'll stay here with you as long as you need me to."
She then just held him, closing her eyes. If they had to stand there all night, she would.
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"Thank you," he whispered against her shoulder. He pulled away, his hands still on her back. "That's what I needed to hear. I just needed to know someone believed in me again." Slipping his hands off her, he took a small step back and wiped his face off. It was still early and he suddenly remembered why she was there.
"Someone is out to hurt me?" Giles asked as his brow furrowed. "Do you know who or way?" He tried to think of all of his enemies, which seemed like a long list. He went over to the couch and sat down. The tea was still warm and he poured himself soon. "Is it Ethan Rayne? Is he trying to hurt me?"
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When he stepped back out of her arms, she let him go, even though part of her wanted to continue to hold him. When he started to ask her questions about who was trying to hurt him, she followed him back to the parlor to sit down, shaking her head when he mentioned someone named Ethan Rayne.
"I don't know unless he's a member of the Council," she told him, picking up the cup of tea she hadn't had a chance to touch yet and taking a sip. "From what I was told, there are people who don't like the changes that have been made to the Council since you took over as Chairman. Apparently, they've targeted you - I guess because they want to return things to the old way. Cordy didn't tell me exactly who they were, but I would imagine that they were part of the old Council? People who were very much into the old traditions and might even have made their dislike of what you're doing known? Can you think of anyone who that might be?"
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