Fic: "Fade to Black", Buffy/Giles, chapter 4/10, STRONG ANGST! UNHAPPY ENDING!
Giles breathed a sigh of relief, even as he felt the disappointment wash over him at Buffy’s announcement that it might be best if they waited until they had a better idea why the previous attempts had failed before trying again.
“But we still can…if you want.”
He shook his head. “No. I think perhaps you’re right. These attempts…”
“Are getting worse,” she finished, as she turned from staring at the flames licking up in the fireplace to face him. “I know. The shadow thing was bigger last time, and it took even longer for you to recover enough for me to come back. If it’s stressing you out that much…god, I’m afraid one of these times you won’t be here for me to come back to.”
Giles stood there, letting his own emotions at her words simmer beneath the surface, but unable to think of a comforting thing to say.
“But Willow and Elyssa said it would be okay if I keep coming in just to visit you; and I’d like to…if that’s okay with you?” she asked shyly.
“It’s more than okay.” He approached her and placed a comforting hand on her arm just above below the shoulder and let his thumb gently stroke her, surprised again at how easily the physical touch came in the setting of his mind. “I would like that very much, in fact. I find myself looking forward to your visits quite a bit.”
Buffy maintained the eye contact as a shadow of worry passed across her face again. “Giles? How bad is it? When you can’t cross, I mean, and get pulled back.”
“It’s not pleasant, certainly, but it goes away,” he responded flatly, hoping she’d drop the subject.
Contrary as ever, Buffy chose to pursue it. “No, don’t make it sound better than it is for my benefit.” She bit her lip, “I can hear you scream…and, I…I get the impression it isn’t just the pain.”
He dropped his hand and stepped back slightly as he looked away. “Buffy…”
“Tell me, Giles,” she pressed. “No matter how bad it is, I want to know, because not knowing scares me more.”
He clenched his jaw, then gave in. “Well there is an impression of physical pain, quite a lot actually, but it does fade rather quickly-as you said, that’s not the worst of it.” He sighed. “The worst is that I lose myself; it’s like it tears me away from my own awareness and I find myself lost in my mind once more until I can remember where I am again…”
“I hear an ‘and’ at the end of that sentence.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “And…well, and some of the places I go are pretty dark.”
“Bad memories?” she asked, her voice low as she hugged herself to avoid reaching out to him, lest he take the gesture as pity. “Nightmares?”
“Yes. Some.” But he knew there was no way he wanted to discuss that with her. “May we find a happier topic, perhaps?”
Buffy paused for a minute, then nodded, realizing that it probably wouldn’t do him any good to force him to dwell on the subject. In an attempt to comply, she found herself looking around at her surroundings, the place she’d immediately found herself when she’d opened the initial door and noticed him on the dark leather couch, reading. “This is nice.”
He nodded, and answered her unasked question. “It’s the Giles’ family library. It’s a nice place to sit and think. Really, I guess thinking is pretty much all I do anymore, isn’t it?” The joke wasn’t terribly funny and neither laughed.
“Wait a minute, you had your own library? And it’s this big?” She indicated the enormous room with its walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books, not to mention the grand fireplace and various reading tables and pair of enormous couches. The entire room was done in dark wood and leather, save for the green accents provided by the rugs and other sundry bits around the room. She was impressed by how detailed the room was. Either he was getting a lot better at controlling his environment or he’d spent a lot of time on this scene.
He gave a slight embarrassed cough. “Well, it’s a large house, Buffy, and there are a lot of Watchers in my family tree. We tend to collect such things.”
“I’ll say! But it does explain a lot. And I like it; it fits you.”
Casually, she used a finger to select a book at random and pull it out of the shelf. “So, have you read all of these?” Suddenly she paused mid-sentence as she flipped through the pages of the book. The early chapters were filled with text and even contained the hand-tinted pictures so many of Giles’ old books usually had… but then it just stopped. Buffy flipped back to make sure the words were still there, and then pin-pointed the exact place halfway down one of the pages where it suddenly and inexplicably went blank, filling the rest of the book with nothing but plain, empty pages.
Frowning, she took down another book. That one was sporadic, some of the sections filled in with demons and various vanquishing spells, others just as blank as the book she’d looked at before. Her search revealed that some didn’t even have names on their covers while others seemed completely normal. Finally, Giles’ voice interrupted her, and the sound of it startled her and ended her frenzied activity.
“You don’t need to tear apart the library. They’re all like that. Everything is like that actually.” Buffy looked up and was shocked again by the wistful sadness in his eyes.
“Huh? You mean only half there?”
He let out a small, humorless bark of a laugh. “In a way, actually, though that’s not precisely what I meant. The books,” he gestured with a wave of his hand, “are only what I can remember. They’re only filled in if I’ve already read them, so I suppose that answers your question. Everything I never got around to…well, you saw. It isn’t there.”
Realization dawned, and Buffy glanced away, horrified, forcing herself to really understand the limitations of his current existence for the first time. “Oh. So you truly can only live what you remember? Nothing…nothing new?”
“Well, and whatever I can imagine, of course, yes,” Giles informed her, his voice solemn, knowing that at this point he may as well initiate her into all the private horrors of his world. “Unfortunately, I’m beginning to learn that I’m not the best of company.”
“Giles,” she breathed softly, and he looked up at the feel of her hand on his shoulder.
He shook himself, and forced a small half smile, as he turned and faced her again. “No, I’m sorry, Buffy. I didn’t intend to upset you.”
“It’s just that this is the first time I’ve thought about it like that. Now that you could control it mostly, I thought it’d be great…you know, whatever you want. But I guess that would get old really fast, wouldn’t it? No one to share it with, and I’m guessing even you run out of ideas eventually.”
“Even my imagination has limits without additional stimulus from the outside world; but your visits do help…and they keep me grounded.”
“So you don’t ‘lose yourself’?”
“Yes. It also helps to be reminded once in a while that there is a real world out there somewhere.”
{{Which you can’t be a part of,}} Buffy finished mentally, but refrained from saying so aloud, knowing that pointing it out would be needlessly painful for both of them. Suddenly she felt the wave of anger and frustration at the whole thing once more. “We’ll get you out of here somehow,” she told him fiercely.
Her determined words caused him to set his shoulders slightly as he allowed himself to believe her. “I certainly have hope that you shall, anyway. I have no doubt that you’re doing your best, which, honestly, I’m more grateful for than I can say.”
“We’ll keep looking for a way. It’s just slow. We can’t…” she waved a hand in frustration. “We can’t seem to find anything that would explain this, or how the demon could have done it to you, or if that’s even the cause. You’ve…you’ve taken a lot of hits over the years,” Buffy commented, putting a hand to the back of her head to illustrate her point.
He sighed. It had practically become a joke over the years. “I have, though there was never much harm done…at least long-term, save the occasional migraine. It is a possibility though. Still…”
“That shadow thing.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “It feels different. Alien, somehow. Even, uh, even the nightmares are more familiar.”
“Have you seen it other times?”
“No.”
She bit her lip, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. If he couldn’t figure out what it was, chances were she wouldn’t either.
Giles forced his brain to shift fully into Watcher-mode. “You haven’t investigated the possibility of possession, have you?”
“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “We have actually. Willow thinks she can feel something in the energies around you or whatever she called them, but it’s faint.” She looked up at him as her next words became emphatic. “But there’s no mention anywhere of that demon being able to do that. And it was there, Giles. It never left its body. It was there and fighting right until the very end when Jessica and I managed to kill it.”
“Alright. I suppose you’ll just have to keep me updated. I’m trying to do my own research, but…” he indicated the library around them, and Buffy understood he was referring to the fact that he was limited only to what he’d already managed to read at some point before.
“Of course. But if things change…if things get worse, you need to let me know too, okay?”
“Of course.” Giles found himself captivated by the concern in her face. “Thank you.”
Chapter 5
“But we still can…if you want.”
He shook his head. “No. I think perhaps you’re right. These attempts…”
“Are getting worse,” she finished, as she turned from staring at the flames licking up in the fireplace to face him. “I know. The shadow thing was bigger last time, and it took even longer for you to recover enough for me to come back. If it’s stressing you out that much…god, I’m afraid one of these times you won’t be here for me to come back to.”
Giles stood there, letting his own emotions at her words simmer beneath the surface, but unable to think of a comforting thing to say.
“But Willow and Elyssa said it would be okay if I keep coming in just to visit you; and I’d like to…if that’s okay with you?” she asked shyly.
“It’s more than okay.” He approached her and placed a comforting hand on her arm just above below the shoulder and let his thumb gently stroke her, surprised again at how easily the physical touch came in the setting of his mind. “I would like that very much, in fact. I find myself looking forward to your visits quite a bit.”
Buffy maintained the eye contact as a shadow of worry passed across her face again. “Giles? How bad is it? When you can’t cross, I mean, and get pulled back.”
“It’s not pleasant, certainly, but it goes away,” he responded flatly, hoping she’d drop the subject.
Contrary as ever, Buffy chose to pursue it. “No, don’t make it sound better than it is for my benefit.” She bit her lip, “I can hear you scream…and, I…I get the impression it isn’t just the pain.”
He dropped his hand and stepped back slightly as he looked away. “Buffy…”
“Tell me, Giles,” she pressed. “No matter how bad it is, I want to know, because not knowing scares me more.”
He clenched his jaw, then gave in. “Well there is an impression of physical pain, quite a lot actually, but it does fade rather quickly-as you said, that’s not the worst of it.” He sighed. “The worst is that I lose myself; it’s like it tears me away from my own awareness and I find myself lost in my mind once more until I can remember where I am again…”
“I hear an ‘and’ at the end of that sentence.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “And…well, and some of the places I go are pretty dark.”
“Bad memories?” she asked, her voice low as she hugged herself to avoid reaching out to him, lest he take the gesture as pity. “Nightmares?”
“Yes. Some.” But he knew there was no way he wanted to discuss that with her. “May we find a happier topic, perhaps?”
Buffy paused for a minute, then nodded, realizing that it probably wouldn’t do him any good to force him to dwell on the subject. In an attempt to comply, she found herself looking around at her surroundings, the place she’d immediately found herself when she’d opened the initial door and noticed him on the dark leather couch, reading. “This is nice.”
He nodded, and answered her unasked question. “It’s the Giles’ family library. It’s a nice place to sit and think. Really, I guess thinking is pretty much all I do anymore, isn’t it?” The joke wasn’t terribly funny and neither laughed.
“Wait a minute, you had your own library? And it’s this big?” She indicated the enormous room with its walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books, not to mention the grand fireplace and various reading tables and pair of enormous couches. The entire room was done in dark wood and leather, save for the green accents provided by the rugs and other sundry bits around the room. She was impressed by how detailed the room was. Either he was getting a lot better at controlling his environment or he’d spent a lot of time on this scene.
He gave a slight embarrassed cough. “Well, it’s a large house, Buffy, and there are a lot of Watchers in my family tree. We tend to collect such things.”
“I’ll say! But it does explain a lot. And I like it; it fits you.”
Casually, she used a finger to select a book at random and pull it out of the shelf. “So, have you read all of these?” Suddenly she paused mid-sentence as she flipped through the pages of the book. The early chapters were filled with text and even contained the hand-tinted pictures so many of Giles’ old books usually had… but then it just stopped. Buffy flipped back to make sure the words were still there, and then pin-pointed the exact place halfway down one of the pages where it suddenly and inexplicably went blank, filling the rest of the book with nothing but plain, empty pages.
Frowning, she took down another book. That one was sporadic, some of the sections filled in with demons and various vanquishing spells, others just as blank as the book she’d looked at before. Her search revealed that some didn’t even have names on their covers while others seemed completely normal. Finally, Giles’ voice interrupted her, and the sound of it startled her and ended her frenzied activity.
“You don’t need to tear apart the library. They’re all like that. Everything is like that actually.” Buffy looked up and was shocked again by the wistful sadness in his eyes.
“Huh? You mean only half there?”
He let out a small, humorless bark of a laugh. “In a way, actually, though that’s not precisely what I meant. The books,” he gestured with a wave of his hand, “are only what I can remember. They’re only filled in if I’ve already read them, so I suppose that answers your question. Everything I never got around to…well, you saw. It isn’t there.”
Realization dawned, and Buffy glanced away, horrified, forcing herself to really understand the limitations of his current existence for the first time. “Oh. So you truly can only live what you remember? Nothing…nothing new?”
“Well, and whatever I can imagine, of course, yes,” Giles informed her, his voice solemn, knowing that at this point he may as well initiate her into all the private horrors of his world. “Unfortunately, I’m beginning to learn that I’m not the best of company.”
“Giles,” she breathed softly, and he looked up at the feel of her hand on his shoulder.
He shook himself, and forced a small half smile, as he turned and faced her again. “No, I’m sorry, Buffy. I didn’t intend to upset you.”
“It’s just that this is the first time I’ve thought about it like that. Now that you could control it mostly, I thought it’d be great…you know, whatever you want. But I guess that would get old really fast, wouldn’t it? No one to share it with, and I’m guessing even you run out of ideas eventually.”
“Even my imagination has limits without additional stimulus from the outside world; but your visits do help…and they keep me grounded.”
“So you don’t ‘lose yourself’?”
“Yes. It also helps to be reminded once in a while that there is a real world out there somewhere.”
{{Which you can’t be a part of,}} Buffy finished mentally, but refrained from saying so aloud, knowing that pointing it out would be needlessly painful for both of them. Suddenly she felt the wave of anger and frustration at the whole thing once more. “We’ll get you out of here somehow,” she told him fiercely.
Her determined words caused him to set his shoulders slightly as he allowed himself to believe her. “I certainly have hope that you shall, anyway. I have no doubt that you’re doing your best, which, honestly, I’m more grateful for than I can say.”
“We’ll keep looking for a way. It’s just slow. We can’t…” she waved a hand in frustration. “We can’t seem to find anything that would explain this, or how the demon could have done it to you, or if that’s even the cause. You’ve…you’ve taken a lot of hits over the years,” Buffy commented, putting a hand to the back of her head to illustrate her point.
He sighed. It had practically become a joke over the years. “I have, though there was never much harm done…at least long-term, save the occasional migraine. It is a possibility though. Still…”
“That shadow thing.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “It feels different. Alien, somehow. Even, uh, even the nightmares are more familiar.”
“Have you seen it other times?”
“No.”
She bit her lip, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. If he couldn’t figure out what it was, chances were she wouldn’t either.
Giles forced his brain to shift fully into Watcher-mode. “You haven’t investigated the possibility of possession, have you?”
“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “We have actually. Willow thinks she can feel something in the energies around you or whatever she called them, but it’s faint.” She looked up at him as her next words became emphatic. “But there’s no mention anywhere of that demon being able to do that. And it was there, Giles. It never left its body. It was there and fighting right until the very end when Jessica and I managed to kill it.”
“Alright. I suppose you’ll just have to keep me updated. I’m trying to do my own research, but…” he indicated the library around them, and Buffy understood he was referring to the fact that he was limited only to what he’d already managed to read at some point before.
“Of course. But if things change…if things get worse, you need to let me know too, okay?”
“Of course.” Giles found himself captivated by the concern in her face. “Thank you.”
Chapter 5