Disclaimer: Not mine. Belong to Joss Whedon.
Pairing: Kind of Xander/Giles
Rating: PG-13, mild language
Summary: After the episode Dirty Girls. Giles comforts Xander.
I feel like there are waves crashing over me. Finding the torn edges and smoothing me out. I hear his voice.
"I'll never leave your side."And I remember that you should never make promises like that. Especially when you're a certain Englishman who made a habit of leaving. But the black was there now replacing the hazy red waves careening through my mind. I felt the hand tighten and let go, as I sank into a peaceful sleep.
I wake hours, days, months later. I have no idea. There were no girls lying in the beds next to me, though. Giles is by my side, his head in his hands, snoring softly. I smile not really knowing why I am in this place at all. I can only remember vague snatches. My hand comes up to my head and finds bandages. Funny, I can't seem to open my left eye. No wait, that isn't funny at all. My hands work frantically at the bandages, but a gentle hand takes mine and stops me from investigating further. A soft brush of lips ghosting over my fingers makes me exclaim in surprise. I turn sharply to see Giles staring at me with a mixture of pity and understanding. I lose it.
Anya tries to come into the room, but I throw a vase of get well' flowers at her. She'll probably have a lovely bruise on her cheek in the morning. Buffy, thank god, is angsting elsewhere. The girls are too afraid to see me like this. Willow is hovering outside the room holding Dawn's hand and crying softly. Oh hell. Giles. Giles won't leave. He's holding me and rocking me and singing softly. Isn't that strange? He doesn't like anyone to hear him sing. I want to yell at him, ask him why he didn't do this when I was new. When I was whole and younger andgod it hurts. The tears burn and I wonder if I should be crying at all. It seemed to enflame my wound. I try to crawl into his body. As he rocks me. I try to tell him I was sorry for letting them go, for letting them die. He must not hear me. He keeps looking at my face and stroking my cheek. He never gives any answers. Never made anything better. Helpless rage begins to fill me, for this man that has never once given me an answer. Who has never once made life easier for any of us. He is the reason all this has happened. And at this moment if I could trade places with him I would do it, and I would feel justified.
"It should have been you," I hear myself say before I can think better of it, and he lets go for the first time in hours.
"Is that how you really feel?" His eyes look stricken I can hear the two girls outside whispering to each other. I look toward them and back to Giles who has taken off his glasses, and was using the edge of my cover to wipe his eyes. I sigh and shake my head.
"No, sorry. Placing blame isn't my thing. At least you tried to stop her. I was there cheering her on, remember." He just shook his head and rubbed at a spot between his eyes. He must have a headache. I could sympathize. Though right now I was more of the sympathizee, since I did just get my eye poked out and all.
"So Giles want to help me pick out a nice eye patch? Probably have to order on-line, though. I wonder if you can get them in assorted colors. Hey I could color coordinate with my clothes." I didn't mean to start crying. It was meant to be funny, dammit.
Giles didn't say anything just nodded and opened his arms. Nice Xander shaped space just waiting to be filled up. I go to him gladly. Idiot it took this to get you to see me. I smile at the irony and let myself be held.