Note: Written for a prompt at Taming the Muse: diglyph
Note: Inspired by a prompt at Open on Sunday: ring
Note: Thanks to everyone who helped me work out what Rupert's and Ethan's wedding bands would look like. Extra thanks to Gabrielle who came up with the idea of scarab beetles.
IALverse
Buffy stopped just inside the door. All the occult … stuff they'd brought over was scattered throughout the hospital room. It was worse than she'd thought. Giles always cleaned up after himself. Always. Even that time when Ethan had told her about the prophecy, the one that said she'd die at the Master's hands, even then when Giles had looked as grungy and worn out as she'd ever seen him, even then his books had been organized. Now, not only was nothing put away but Giles was scrambling through mystical-looking doodads and muttering like a madman.
She called out as she approached, trying to sound casual, "Hey, Giles, what's up?"
"Just one more spell." He didn't seem to be talking to her. "There's been no response, almost as if he's not in his body, but that's impossible. Almost impossible. I think Moore's Astral …"
Oh yeah, he was over the deep end. Time to step in. "There will be no more spells."
Buffy stood her ground but it wasn't easy under Giles' glare. "Do you want to repeat that?" he asked. He hadn't raised his voice but she could hear the menace. "On second thought, don't. I don't want to have to kill you." For the first time since she'd met him, Buffy wasn't sure she could take Giles if it came down to a fight.
"You've gone through all the spells. You aren't learning anything new." At least that's what Miss Calendar had told her. "Go home. Get some sleep."
"Go home?" At least he'd shifted from murderous intent look to questioning her sanity look. "While Ethan's life drains away?"
Miss Calendar appeared in the doorway. Coward. At least she could have come into the room. "Rupert, you're not doing him any good. You're exhausted. What do you think you can do in this state?"
"I can save his life."
"Really?" Miss Calendar asked. "How?"
Some sort of mystical whatsit, something made of gears and feathers, fell in pieces from Giles's hand.
"Leave," Buffy told him. "I mean it. If you won't go home, at least cross the street and get something to eat."
"And if I refuse?"
"You're not going to," she said. "If you thought you were right, you'd still be arguing." She didn't say that she could knock him out and carry him home but he seemed to have heard it just the same.
He glared at her long enough that she thought maybe he would refuse to go, but then he brushed the rest of the feathers from his hands, gave Ethan a long kiss, and stalked out the door, almost shoving Miss Calendar out of his way.
"Want company?" Miss Calendar called after him.
"I suppose someone has to keep an eye on me, to ensure I obey the tyrant's commands." His words had that crisp edge that Buffy only heard when he was truly furious. "Xander, why don't you accompany me?"
Buffy heard the click of Giles' shoes retreating down the hall. Even his footsteps sounded angry. When Miss Calendar and Willow joined her in Ethan's hospital room, Buffy turned from them and started picking up the occult stuff Giles had left scattered around. Miss Calendar had said Giles needed a break, and it had made sense when she'd explained it, but Buffy felt like a bully. If it had been her sitting with someone she loved, she wouldn't have wanted to go.
Rupert allowed Xander to lead him to the diner down the street. He would have preferred silence, but Xander kept up a constant stream of chatter. At least he didn't expect a response. Once settled, Rupert held his cup of tea in both hands, soaking in the warmth. Sunnydale wasn't cold but Rupert couldn't get the chill out of his bones.
Xander had blown across his hot chocolate and taken a large gulp. It had only stopped the chatter for a moment. "Hate to say it, big guy, but you're looking worse than Starvin' Marvin."
Rupert merely stared over his cup. He felt slightly annoyed that he couldn't tell if Xander's look of surprise was real or exaggerated. "South Park?" Xander asked.
Rupert didn't bother to reply.
"I thought Ethan was keeping you up on culture …" Now that was a look of true shock. Xander obviously regretted mentioning Ethan. He shouldn't have. It wasn't as if Rupert could forget even for a moment.
Xander's usual reaction to stress was to babble. He didn't disappoint this time. "So, Starvin' Marvin. He's from Ethiopia, see. These guys won him, kind of like a prize, but not really …" Rupert let Xander's words, something about stop watches and Sally Struthers, wash over him. He felt very tired and food wasn't about to help.
Rupert was on his feet before the expression on Xander's face told him he was being abrupt. "I'm … exhausted," Rupert said. "I need to walk."
"I'll come with."
"No!" That had come out harsher than he'd intended. "I'm just going to walk up and down the street. I'll be back before the food is ready." Xander seemed uncertain but Rupert walked off quickly. He hadn't been lying. He did hope that exercise would help wake him, but that wasn't his only reason for leaving. If he couldn't be with Ethan, he wanted to be alone.
Rupert had walked three blocks when he let himself fall against the side of a building. He knew he was being conspicuous, but what did it matter. He wasn't going to be able to save Ethan. The one time it truly counted was the one time he failed. Ethan was, already, almost as good as dead.
As Rupert hung his head, sunlight caught the ruby of his wedding ring. That one tiny spark of light glittered as brilliantly as the sun rising over the wine dark sea. Rupert pushed off of the wall. Of course! How had he missed it? The rings.
The three of them were just standing around Ethan's bed, staring and doing nothing. It was creepy how Ethan just lay there. Usually nothing could keep him still.
"Does anybody else feel like the three witches from Macbeth?" Buffy asked.
"The Scottish play," Willow said.
Miss Calendar's frown said don't go there. "If we were, we could predict a better fate than this."
Fine, if some people wanted to invoke a curse by saying the name of the play, Willow would just let them. "Maybe we're more like the three Fates."
"Don't they decide when people die?" Buffy asked.
"But … no!" How'd she get to be the curse-invoking person? "Not like that. In a non-cutting the thread of life kind of way, which would make him, um, immortal. He could be immortal Ethan."
"He wouldn't want to be like this forever," Miss Calendar said.
That wasn't what she'd meant. Willow wasn't sure how to respond but apparently nobody else did either because the room was silent, but then that was okay because Giles barged into the room. His hair was wild, unkempt. It looked like he hadn't brushed it in days, which couldn't be because Ethan had just been brought into the hospital that morning.
Buffy frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be taking a break?"
"The rings," he said. "The sacred scarab. Rebirth of the sun after the dark night of the soul. Resurrection."
Buffy could never think about the rings without obsessing. Willow had tried to explain the symbolism to her but Buffy had never gotten over the dung beetle thing. "Scarabs? You don't mean those dung beetles you had carved onto your wedding bands?"
"The scarabs are carved into the rubies." Actually they were rather pretty although Willow had learned not to say that to Buffy.
"What do you mean resurrection?" Miss Calendar asked. Willow felt bad. Of course no one was going to care that the rings were diglyphs, not when they had a cure for Ethan.
"The stones, they're attuned to our essences: my ring to Ethan's and his ring to mine. I can bring him back." He scanned the room. "Where are my texts?"
"We moved them back to the car, but Buffy and I can go get them." Finally, something they could do.
Miss Calendar put her hands on Giles' shoulders. She looked like she was about to shake him. "Rupert, you don't know what's wrong with him. What are you going to do? Try random resurrection spells? You could kill him. You could do worse than kill him."
Giles fell into a chair. His face was almost paler than Ethan's. "If the stone holds his essence," Willow heard herself saying," maybe you could talk to him."
Buffy and Miss Calendar looked confused but Giles looked hopeful and energized, which was good because Willow wasn't quite sure what she meant. "Of course," he said, "a connection spell, possibly a scrying."
Miss Calendar's words came out slowly as if she was thinking through scenarios as she was speaking. "That could work."
"So we will need the texts," Willow said.
"Sounds like a plan." Buffy stepped to the door as if she were heading out to get the books but only looked both ways up and down the hall. "What did you do with Xander?"
