He knew Spike would be less than happy to see him showing up armed, but Giles wasn't about to take the chance it would be to come without the stake in his hand or the second stake and the dagger he had concealed inside his coat. Not only could any number of things attack him while he was waiting, but he still didn't trust Spike, not by a long shot. For all he knew, the vampire had set this up as part of some elaborate plan that would not end well for the Watcher.
Granted, from what he'd seen of Spike's style prior to the fight with Buffy that had incapacitated him for some time, the blonde vampire was not one for elaborate plans—at least not ones that ended anyway like he had wanted. But that knowledge didn't put Giles any at ease. Not when there were so many things to make him uneasy.
Suddenly, he realized he wasn't alone, and Giles jumped slightly, gasping as his eyes met Spike's cool blue gaze. The vampire grinned, flashing white teeth. "A little jumpy there, Jeeves?"
"You do know it's common courtesy to let someone know you're approaching before you just…pop up."
Spike's tongue curled behind his teeth as he rocked slightly on his heels. "Yeah, but that wouldn't be nearly as amusing, now would it?" As quickly as it appeared, his sense of mirth was gone, his expression growing deadly serious. "That stake wouldn't be for her now, would it?"
Giles shook his head. "No. I have no intention of hurting her. But you can't honestly expect me to stand alone in a cemetery on the Hellmouth unarmed, now can you?"
"I suppose not," Spike relented, even as he looked at Giles slightly askance. "Still, I'm here now, so you don't need it. Hand it over."
When Giles did as Spike said, Spike dropped the stake to the ground, then held out his hand. "And whatever you've got in your coat, too, Watcher."
"I don't…" Giles began, but before he could finish his sentence, Spike had reached into the coat in question and pulled out both the stake and the dagger. He dropped the second stake to the ground beside the first, but turned the dagger over in his hands, inspecting it.
"Now this, this is nice. Good handiwork on this thing." Spike slipped the dagger into his duster. "So are we going?"
Giles almost protested the loss of his weapons, but stopped. What difference did it make? He'd come out here tonight, arming himself out of habit, forgetting his own existence meant very little to him any longer. What difference did it make if something got a taste of him that night?
None at all…
He followed Spike through the cemetery, the nervousness that had been with him all evening growing with every step he took. He recognized now that it was not concern for his life that made him feel this way. It was trepidation at facing his own failure.
Fear of seeing what his Slayer had become.
Spike stopped in front of a crypt and wordlessly pushed the door open. Giles stepped inside, unable to help the shiver that passed through him as the heavy door shut behind them.
It was obvious looking around the crypt that more than the peaceful dead made it their home. Candles were lit around the perimeter, bathing it in a soft glow. Among the stone sarcophagi were a worn sofa and a television on one side, while the other contained an older model refrigerator and a microwave. Looking closely, Giles caught power cords running along the floor, tapping into some source he couldn't identify,
"Come on. She's down stairs."
At Spike's declaration, Giles almost asked how to get downstairs before he saw Spike kneel and pull open a trapdoor. The vampire disappeared into it, and with a reluctant sigh, Giles followed.
This was far from the brightest thing he had done in his life.
There were scattered candles in the downstairs, too, yet fewer than the upper level of the crypt, and it took the Watcher's eyes a moment to adjust. Though the floors down there were made of dirt, a variety of expensive-looking rugs had been lain about. Several other pieces of furniture had made their way down there as well, including an antique armoire and a few chairs. The centerpiece of the room, however, was a large, black canopy bed, covered in sheets of blood red silk.
On the center of the bed, sat Buffy. She was pale, so different from the tan California girl Giles was used to, and he knew her lack of color was due to more than her recent change.
As soon as she spotted Giles, Buffy's eyes grew wide, and she scrambled backwards on the bed until she reached the headboard. There, she pulled her knees to her chin and looked down before she began to shake her head violently, her unkempt blonde hair waving in front of her face.
"No…he can't be here…can't see…no…no…"
In a flash, Spike was with her, pulling her into his arms and speaking with a tenderness that surprised the Watcher. Spike stroked her hair as he moved to calm her. "Shh…baby, it's okay. He's here to help you, is all. It's all right."
"He can't see…can't see," Buffy said again, shaking in Spike's arms. "So bad now…can't see. Disgusting…"
As he watched the scene in front of him, Giles felt a pang in his heart. He knew that this Buffy was not the same girl he'd known before. Soul or not, she was a vampire now, and he knew of the things she'd done since her turning. None of them stopped him from hurting for the girl he'd loved as a daughter.
"Buffy?" Giles said softly as he took a tentative step towards the bed. "Buffy, it's all right. You're not disgusting."
Buffy looked up, her large green eyes filled with tears as her lip trembled. "I am…I am." She turned away from Giles again, yelling as she did. "Don't look at me!"
Giles moved closer regardless, hesitating before he put a hand on Spike's shoulder to catch his attention. Spike looked up, met the Watcher's eyes, and though he hesitated for a moment, he soon got up and let the other man take his place. After all, he'd brought him here so he could be the one to speak to Buffy.
Giles sat down on the bed where Spike had been and ran his hand over Buffy's hair. She flinched, but Giles didn't pull away from her. "You could never be disgusting to me, Buffy."
Buffy looked up and sniffled. "I am. I'm a…I'm…" She stopped, unable to say the word in front of Giles.
For his part, Giles was doing all he could not to cry with her, though it was impossible to stop all the tears from slipping onto his cheeks. "I know, but it's okay. I promise you, it's okay." How could he blame her for what she had become when she was what she was because of him?
"Why did you come here?" Buffy asked, her voice small, weak. Then, in almost a whisper, she added, "I didn't want you to see…"
"I came because Spike told me you needed me," Giles answered truthfully, keeping his voice slow and steady. He could tell Buffy's mental state was teetering on the edge, and he wanted nothing more than to help her from falling over into that chasm. He had already failed her once. Perhaps he could make some level of amends for that by helping her regain a part of herself now.
"He shouldn't have done that," Buffy said, shaking her head in denial again. "He should've known I didn't want you to see."
"Spike was only worried about you, Buffy. He doesn't want you to be hurting like this, and he thought I could help." Giles paused for a moment before he added, "He loves you."
For the first time since his arrival at the crypt, Buffy looked into Giles's eyes. "He…he does?"
In all honesty, Giles didn't understand the nature of a vampire's emotions. With all the things he had learned about them during his training as a Watcher, that had never been something they'd bothered to put in the texts. However, he had seen the obvious concern Spike held for the girl, and he knew Buffy needed something now to keep herself from slipping into full-blown insanity. Spike could be that in a way Giles knew he himself never could. "Yes, he does."
"I didn't think he could," Buffy replied, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes dropped again. "Not after…not without…I didn't think he could."
"He does," Giles assured her softly. As much as he wished he could take her someplace where he could keep her safe, he was an intelligent enough man to recognize that Buffy's only real chance now was feeling like she could belong with at least one member of her own kind. While Angel had been content to be a loner when he'd been cursed, Giles realized that would never do for Buffy. Despite the fact that the very nature of the Slayer was to be alone, Buffy had always fought against that, surrounding herself with friends and loved ones. Giles couldn't imagine her being able to survive any differently now, nor could be imagine that she would be content to be around only humans.
She'd had a hard enough time dealing with the ways being the Slayer had made her different from others. To live a life in the dark when everyone around her was in the light would be too much for her to handle.
Whether it was truly something one could call "love," Giles didn't know, though he would be hard pressed to come up with any other word for what he'd seen in Spike's eyes when the vampire spoke of Buffy. Furthermore, had Spike not cared deeply for the girl, wouldn't she be no more than a pile of dust now—or at the very least, abandoned in this crypt, left to slip further and further into insanity?
Instead, Spike had stayed by Buffy's side, even going as far as to seek out Giles in order to try to help her when he felt he wasn't getting through to her on his own. Giles doubted Buffy was in much of a shape to be either a hunting partner or a lover to the male vampire which, according to the Council's texts, were the only reasons vampires traveled in pairs or groups. Spike continuing to see to Buffy's care and well-being went against all Giles had ever been taught.
Yet, even with all his love for his books, he knew that things you saw with your own eyes often times carried much more credence than what was written on a page.
"I feel so lost, Giles," Buffy said as she looked up again, the feeling she'd just admitted to so clear in her eyes. "It hurts, and I…I don't know what to do anymore."
Looking at her now, Giles knew he could never truly help her. She was beyond him now, beyond his help.
As much as Giles didn't like it, all she had was Spike. Spike had gotten him to help Buffy, but Giles knew that the vampire was the one who could truly give Buffy the help she needed.
He'd have to show her to live in the darkness…
"Let Spike show you, Buffy," Giles replied, the words hurting him to say. He didn't want to let her go, didn't want to accept the fact he'd truly lost her. And yet, he knew now, seeing her sitting in this crypt, that he had.
Her skin was pale and cold. Blood stains marred the clothes she wore. Buffy was dead. And short of driving a stake through her heart, there was nothing he could do but let her be what she was now.
"Is it really okay, Giles?"
Giles smiled at her and placed his hand on her shoulder, doing his best to convey authority. "Yes, Buffy, it's okay. You can let Spike take care of you, and it'll be all right." He didn't know if he was lying or not, and in all honestly, he figured he probably was. But she needed something now, something to hold on to, and this was all he could give her.
Tentatively, Buffy smiled back, and Giles reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She started to duck her head, to shield herself from his gaze, but Giles wouldn't let her. "You're as beautiful as ever, Buffy."
"Thank you, Giles," she replied, emotion choking his voice.
He stood and was relieved when Buffy didn't try to stop him. Leaving her now was difficult enough without her making it any harder on him. "Let Spike take care of you, Buffy," Giles told her one more time. "He'll make things okay."
Buffy's only response was a small nod, and at that, Giles returned to the ladder and climbed back to the upper part of the crypt. He heard Spike come up after him, but didn't turn around to face him until he was almost at the door.
"I told her you'd take care of her. Don't make a liar out of me."
"I won't, Watcher. Thank you."
With nothing left to say, Giles left the crypt.
I know it's been a couple weeks since I updated, but it's been fairly hectic for me lately. However, even though I wasn't posting, I have been writing when I can, and I've managed to finish this story—at least in rough draft form—so the rest of it should come without any more long breaks.
For any of you also reading Oedipus Calling, I reluctantly admitted to myself that I can only work on one story at a time these days and put it on hold until I got this one out of the way. Hopefully, I can start it back up in the next few weeks.
Please review.