Chapter 14: The Power of Seeing

The next morning, Willow walked into Doctor Gruden's office very grateful that the appointment was scheduled today. After the events of the past week, Willow was feeling a hundred different things and needed a way to talk through them. Doctor Gruden – Dana – was the only one who knew enough to understand Willow's problems while still being impartial.

"Hi Willow, so nice to see you again," Dana greeted her warmly.

"Hi Dana," Willow replied.

"Well you've got a look that says you've got things you need to get off your chest, so let's get right to it."

Willow smiled, relief evident on her face. "Thanks. I really do."

For the next twenty minutes, Willow ranted and raved and laughed and cried about everything that had happened in the past week. Her blossoming romance with Giles, the sudden uptick in her magical control, the fight in the graveyard, Giles' surgery, his rejection of Willow, her new job at the Magic Box, her upcoming college class, and finally, her unexpected transgression with Spike – she laid everything bare in the hopes of purging some of her guilt and gaining insight on how to proceed in her life.

"I mean," she concluded, "I know Giles and I aren't together, but it still feels like a cheated on him."

"Do you think you'll tell him?" Doctor Gruden asked.

Willow laughed ruefully. "Well he'd have to talk to me first. He hasn't said a word to me since last Thursday, not even over text."

"You said he's still recuperating from his injuries at home, yes?"

"Yeah, he can't really get around very well."

"Have you tried going over to speak with him at his house?"

Willow's expression darkened. "I don't know if I could do that."

"Why not?" Dana asked

"You don't know, Dana, you don't know how he looked at me. He stared right through me, like I wasn't even there. I don't know if I could do that again."

"Have you talked to your friends about any of this?"

"Oh, no way. I can't." Willow shook her head, then swept her hair back with both her hands. "That's off the table."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I have class after this. That's basically as far as I can think ahead."

"Well, class is good; what course is it?"

"Psych 250: Human Behavior," Willow replied.

Dana smiled. "You know I approve. Have you taken psychology courses before?"

"Yeah, I took intro to psych a couple of years ago, but it turned out that my professor was kind of mad scientist working for a secret government organization. Great lecturer, though." Willow shrugged.

"I hope you enjoy it. I really do think you have an aptitude for it."

Willow smiled warmly. "Thanks, Dana."

Before long, the session ended and Willow headed to class feeling a little less overwhelmed than she had before.

There was something comforting and normal about attending a class. Although Willow had enrolled in the course late, she had purchased the books several days earlier, and was, unsurprisingly, nearly caught up. Her professor, a squat older man with tufts of salt-and-pepper hair at his temples, welcomed her warmly to class and encouraged her to come to him with questions any time.

Over the course of the two-hour lecture, Willow lost herself in scribbling down notes and participating in discussions. She was in her element, and felt a sense of what Doctor Gruden had identified as the thing she was missing: control. As she walked out of the classroom, she actually felt okay.

Grabbing a sandwich from the campus food court, Willow headed over to The Magic Box. She was scheduled to work at 3 and didn't have much time to spare. She walked towards Sunnydale's quaint downtown area, turning up her coat collar against the slight chill in the autumn air.

Entering the shop, Willow saw Anya ringing up the one and only customer in the place. As the customer left, Anya came around from behind the counter and patted Willow on the arm. "Good luck!" she offered, then vanished into nothing. Apparently Willow was not the only one scheduled to work an afternoon shift.

Taking her place behind the counter, Willow looked around her surreptitiously, then took her cell phone out of her bag. Still no messages. She opened up her conversation with Giles, which had been rather one-sided as of late. Over the course of her walk to the shop, she had decided she was going to tell Giles about Spike, but Giles would have to talk to her first. Knowing full well that it sounded exactly like her last five messages and would garner no response, she wrote a text anyway.

[Giles, I want to see you. We need to talk. Please talk to me.]

Sighing at the futility of the exercise, Willow went back to manning the counter. After ten minutes of absolutely nothing, she pulled out her psych textbook and began her homework.

A few hours later, the bell over the door chimed and Xander entered the store. Supremely grateful for the distraction of a good friend, Willow slammed the textbook closed. "Hey, Xander!"

"Hiya, Wil. How's business?"

Willow blew out a breath. "Well, you're the second person I've seen come in since I got here, so it's not exactly a bustling enterprise. Apparently everybody comes here on the weekend."

"Hey, that means you could probably just close up for the night and no one would be the wiser. Shall I liberate you from your commercial torment?"

Willow smiled. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm headed over to Giles' place to bring him some dinner and check up on him. Buffy said he wasn't looking too hot last time she went over, so I want to make sure he's doing alright."

Willow's face went pale and she tried not to look as distressed as she felt. Xander, however, wasn't buying it.

"Okay, Willow, what's the deal? You've been super weird about Giles since the cemetery and as much as I don't really want to know, I'm asking. What's up?"

Willow leaned on the counter with her elbows and put her head in her hands. "Xander, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Wil, it's me. We don't keep things from each other. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Still leaning on the counter, Willow looked up at Xander skeptically.

Xander crossed his arms. "Think about all of the dirt you have on me. The Aquaman underpants. The bologna incident. The overnight field trip in 6th grade. You've seen me in a speedo." He paused, his eyes meeting hers. "We trust each other, right?"

Willow sighed, feeling her emotions welling up inside her. Her eyes swam with tears, and Xander moved behind the counter to hug his friend.

"Xander, if I tell you, you're going to think I'm a bad person."

"Willow," Xander replied, a note of surprise in his voice, "you know I won't."

Willow rested her head on Xander's chest, trying to find the words. "I'm…" she started, then stalled out.

Xander rubbed her back comfortingly. "'I'm' is good. 'I'm' is a start."

Willow smiled weakly for a moment, then the tears came. "Xander, I'm in love with Giles." The words hung in the air. She had expected to feel relief at finally saying them, but instead, the knot in her stomach only tightened.

Xander held his breath for a moment. "Well," he began, "haven't you kind of been in love with him since 10th grade?"

"No, no," Willow shook her head, pushing back from Xander's embrace. "I don't mean that I have a crush on him or that I like him or that I think it's cute when he cleans his glasses."

Xander crinkled his nose but said nothing.

"I mean," Willow continued, "that I'm in love with him. And he feels the same way about me."

Xander's eyes went wide and he turned away, pacing around the empty store with his hands on top of his head. Despite it making zero sense, Xander's first impulse was to go to Giles' house and kick his ass. He even got so far as walking toward the door before Willow called him back.

"Xander, please don't leave. Don't hate me."

He stopped in his tracks, his anger evaporating. Turning around, he went back to Willow and hugged her tight. "I don't hate you, Willow. I could never hate you."

The witch broke down in Xander's arms, grasping fistfuls of his flannel shirt in her shaking hands. As she sobbed onto his chest, Xander's mind went from reaction to reaction with each passing moment. He was surprised that Willow was attracted to a man, though not totally surprised at her choice of man, then grossed out by the idea of Willow and Giles together, then furious with Giles for taking advantage of Willow. She had been so vulnerable and fragile since Tara's death, and Giles should know better.

When Willow had calmed somewhat, Xander pulled back a little and looked down at her. "What happened?"

Willow sketched out the basic sequence of events for Xander, leaving out the more scandalous bits. "And since then," she finished, "he hasn't been returning my texts. I haven't seen him since the day he got back from the hospital."

The rage that Xander had felt at first returned to him as Willow told her story. "I can't believe he would do that," Xander growled. "He's twice your age. He should know better!"

Willow, familiar with this line of reasoning, shot back, "Hey, I'm not a child and I'm not broken. I may be going through something really difficult, but I'm not a fucking idiot. I'm sick of people treating me like this passive victim, you and Giles – you think I'm so helpless and weak, that things just happen to me. I don't need you threatening to beat up people on my behalf."

Taken aback by her outburst, Xander's eyes widened and he shook his head, backing up. "I'm sorry, Wil. I didn't – I'm not – "

Willow let out an enormous sigh and plopped down into an armchair at the front of the shop. "Xander, I appreciate that you want to protect me. I know that you care about me and it bothers you to see me get hurt. But I don't need you to fight battles for me, especially ones that have nothing to do with you. I'm telling you all of this because you asked me to, not because you need to do something about it."

Xander sat down across from her. He could understand where she was coming from. Although he couldn't stop himself from getting upset on her behalf, he needed to make the effort to let her work through her own problems her own way.

Taking an analytical tack, Xander asked, "What did you expect to happen when you started something with Giles? Did you think that you would move in together, get married, start a family?"

"I don't know, Xander," Willow spat, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I wasn't trying to plan out my entire future. I just knew how I felt about him, and when he told me he felt it too, we just sort of…acted on it. It didn't have to make sense, it just felt right."

"Wil, back in high school, when you and I kissed at the factory, that felt right, too. But we both basically ruined our relationships. Cordelia wouldn't even talk to me after that, and do you think Oz really forgave you?"

"Xander, this is different. I'm not in a relationship right now and neither is Giles. There's nobody to hurt."

"What about Buffy?" Xander voiced Willow's secret concern, and she was furious with him for it.

"What about Buffy? Giles is her Watcher, but he doesn't belong to her. She doesn't get to decide if he has a love life, or with whom, for that matter." Willow stood up, crossing her arms and walking back to the center of the shop.

"Oh, so you think your friendship with Buffy isn't going to suffer because of this? Wil, even if you and Giles go back to being just friends and nothing else ever happens, the fact that you have feelings for each other is going to change everything. Do you think that you and Buffy aren't going to have to deal with that?" Xander followed Willow, then moved to stand in front of her.

"Of course we will," Willow grunted. "But excuse me if my primary concern right now is the eviscerating pain of rejection rather than the hypothetical future tiff I might have with my friend."

Willow stalked over to the counter and started packing her stuff. "I'm closing up. This place is dead anyway." She turned back to face Xander. "Thanks so much for listening. I'm really glad I opened up to you." Her biting sarcasm was a poor disguise for her pain.

As she stormed past Xander, he caught her arm and spun her to face him. "Willow, wait. I'm sorry." She allowed herself to be turned around but refused to meet his eyes. "You're right," he acknowledged. "I begged you to tell me and now I'm yelling at you for it. You needed a friend and instead you got, well, a shitty friend."

Willow's eyes were swimming with tears but she said nothing.

"Do you want to beat me up a little? You know you could take me, and you'd probably feel better."

Willow burst into fresh tears, and Xander enveloped her in his arms again. He felt like an ass, even if he knew there was truth to his concerns. Willow accepted his embrace and let herself soak the front of his shirt with her tears yet again. After a few moments, she breathed deeply and extricated herself from his grasp.

Xander looked down at his friend. "I love you, Wil. You're my best friend. Nothing is going to change that, okay?" Willow nodded, doing her best to offer a smile. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

"No, thanks. I'm just going to walk. The fresh air will do me good."

Xander put his arm around Willow and together they exited the shop, locking up just as the sun dipped behind the buildings and night began to fall on Sunnydale.

A half hour later, Xander was standing in Giles' doorway holding a pizza.

"Hello, Xander," Giles said apathetically, shuffling away from the door to resume his position on the couch. Xander had heard that Giles was in rough shape, but his anger at the Watcher almost dissolved once he saw how broken Giles really was. He came inside, shutting the door behind him and placing the pizza on the coffee table.

"Hey, Giles," Xander replied, trying not to be too obvious in his concern. "How ya feeling?"

"I'm fine," he replied, knowing he wasn't convincing anyone.

Xander scanned the apartment, noting an uncharacteristic dirtiness and an unpleasant smell. Old garbage. "You dig in, Giles, I'm just going to hit the restroom."

Xander poked around the apartment, dismayed by the mess. It was very un-Giles. He stole into the kitchen and grabbed a trash bag, then began collecting garbage from throughout the house.

Giles sat impassively on the couch, neither noticing nor caring what Xander did. He had finally achieved the numbness he had so desperately sought the week before, and with it came a total disinterest in the actions of others.

Once the trash had been put out back and the apartment smelled a little less ripe, Xander returned to the living room and sat down in a chair across from Giles. "So, what does the doctor say about your prognosis? Is the Watcher going to be Watch-ready soon?"

"Yes, I'm to heal just fine," Giles said dispassionately. "Another few weeks and I'll be skipping around like a schoolgirl, to be sure."

Xander sat back in the chair and took in Giles' appearance. He had been the one to rescue the Watcher from Angelus several years back, but somehow Giles looked even worse today. The lines in Giles' forehead were more pronounced, and his salt-and-pepper stubble only served to accentuate a gaunt face. Xander noticed a prescription pill bottle on the table and saw that it was still full.

Xander leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Giles," he said, "I know about you and Willow."

For the first time in days, Giles felt something. He looked over at Xander, his serious expression set firm but his eyes wild. He said nothing.

"She didn't want to tell me, but I guilted it out of her. She's a mess, Giles. And obviously you are, too. Why don't you just talk to her?"

In a low rasping whisper, Giles hissed, "This is none of your business, you stupid, presumptuous, meddling boy."

"Yeah, well, it kind of is my business. Willow is my best friend. And when somebody hurts my best friend, I take issue with that."

Giles placed his elbow on the arm of the sofa and brought his hand up to his forehead. His eyes closed, he rubbed his eyebrow with his index finger. "Get out." He sounded exhausted.

Xander stood up, building a head of steam.

"Fuck you, Giles." He pointed at the Watcher accusingly. Giles' eyes, now open, flashed with malice. "You're so high and goddamned mighty," Xander continued, "and you act so noble, when really you're just being a selfish prick."

Giles stared at Xander, his jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

"You pretend to care about people but all you really care about is how they can be useful to you. You waited for Willow to be vulnerable, you waited for her to need you, and then you swooped in to 'rescue' her."

Giles' hands gripped the sofa cushion, but he restrained himself. He knew Xander was waiting for him to respond, but he refused.

"You're pathetic," Xander grunted. "You sit here in your disgusting house all day, hiding from your problems. You wallow in your self-pity, refusing to take your pain meds as penance for your sins. I can't believe I ever looked up to you." In another time and place, Giles might have been flattered by Xander's revelation of admiration, but not here, not now.

Xander's voice grew more vicious. "You don't love Willow, you pompous ass, and you never did! You manipulated her to get what you wanted and now you're discarding her because things threatened to get complicated. If you gave a single shit about that girl, you would have never said anything. But no, you pursued someone half your age, a girl who had trusted you since she was 16, and you did whatever you wanted with her. Did it feel good, Giles? Did it feel good to undress her and touch her, knowing you were just going to throw her out like garbage?"

"You shut your filthy fucking mouth!" Giles stood up quickly, wincing and swaying on the spot, but keeping his eyes trained on Xander. He stepped over toward Xander unsteadily.

Xander also moved toward Giles, challenging him. In a cruel whisper, Xander said, "Willow told me how you said you loved her. How you said you wanted to be with her. You would do anything for her." He paused, staring into Giles' eyes then stabbed his finger into Giles' chest. "You're a fucking liar."

Giles took a wild swing at Xander, who ducked. Xander caught Giles before he fell over, then deposited him in a nearby chair. Giles seemed to collapse in on himself, his head in his hands as he wept. Xander sat down with a huff on the couch, emotionally exhausted. He hoped that goading Giles into this reaction would shake him out of his apathy.

After a few minutes, Xander leaned forward and said, "Giles, you have to talk to her."

Giles stiffened slightly in the chair, as if he had forgotten anyone was there. After a moment, he replied, "I can't."

"I know it's complicated and painful and it sucks, but you can't just avoid Willow for the rest of your life."

"On the contrary," Giles responded, sniffling as he composed himself, "I most certainly can."

"How are you going to be Buffy's Watcher? How will you run the shop?"

"Buffy doesn't need a Watcher. And Anya runs the shop just fine."

"So, what?" Xander asked. "You're just going to leave?"

Giles self-consciously wiped his face. "I think that's the wisest course of action."

Xander shook his head. "Giles, you can't just leave. If you care for Willow, stay. Talk to her."

Giles shook his head ruefully. "No, it's best if I just go. I'll only make her life worse by staying. Everyone will be better off with me gone."

"You're at least going to tell her, right? You'll talk to her before you go?"

Giles looked over at Xander, his eyes sorrowful.

"Jesus Christ, Giles, you can't just skip town without a word!" Xander was standing now, pacing around the living room. His agitation was not so forced this time.

"What will I say then, Xander? Since you seem to know so much? 'Oh, hi Willow, sorry for breaking your heart and ruining your life, goodbye'?"

"That's better than just disappearing!"

Giles ducked his head again, resting his forehead on his palms. He was growing dizzy and the pain in his abdomen was worse than usual. He was fairly certain he'd popped a stitch when he stood up. He tried to focus on his breathing.

Xander went into the kitchen and filled up a glass with water. He brought the glass and the bottle of medication to Giles, placing them on the table in front of him. When Giles said nothing, Xander walked over to the door.

"You're a coward," he muttered, then walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Giles remained still, his head in his hands, tears falling silently onto his lap.

Willow arrived home from The Magic Box to find Dawn and Buffy curled up on the couch. The inviting scent of popcorn wafted over to the witch. She had intended to head upstairs to be alone, but Dawn spied her and called her over.

"Willow! Perfect timing. He's about to start the rose ceremony." Dawn patted the couch next to her to entice Willow to sit.

Willow had never cared much for these matchmaking reality TV shows, but it was hard to say no to Dawn. As Willow got situated on the sofa, Buffy passed her the bowl of popcorn.

"We think he's going to pick the blonde over the brunette based on past selections," Buffy explained with a scientific air, "but there was hanky-panky on his date with the brunette."

"Oh," Willow responded, "so it's really anyone's game."

"Exactly," Dawn said. She grabbed a massive handful of popcorn, her eyes trained on the screen. They watched in silence for a few minutes, until the man on TV gave a rose to a brunette woman, who teared up and hugged him.

"I knew it!" Buffy exclaimed, gesturing toward the screen with an open palm. "Hanky-panky always wins. God, men are all alike. Willow, you're lucky you switched teams; men are hopeless."

Willow produced a strained smile that she hoped would be convincing. "Yep, that's me, one lucky girl."

Buffy seemed placated, but Dawn narrowed her eyes at Willow. She looked at the witch critically for a moment but said nothing.

"Hey, I had my first class today," Willow offered, eager to change the subject.

Buffy turned to face Willow, ignoring the TV, which was showing the promo for next week's episode. "Which class was today?"

"Psychology," Willow answered. Dawn continued to shove popcorn in her mouth, clearly not interested in Willow's academic life.

Buffy asked, "Did you notice any suspicious military activity? Was the professor, like, some kind of evil genius?"

"As far as I can tell," Willow replied, "there is no sign of the Initiative or any other creepy army stuff."

Buffy wiped her brow in faux relief. "Phew. Maybe this semester you can actually learn some psychology. Wait – is the TA cute? Cute TAs can be trouble."

"Hideous TA. It's perfect. I'm going to be so focused in this class."

"Excellent," Buffy replied. The Slayer lifted herself off the couch and raised her arms over her head in a big stretch. She yawned and lazily scratched her head.

"Going to bed?" Willow asked.

Dawn rolled her eyes at Willow. "Come on," she said through a mouthful of popcorn. "When's the last time you saw Buffy go to bed before midnight?"

"Yeah," Buffy added, "as much as I'd love to call it a night, I have to patrol. Evil waits not for the tie-tie." She walked over to the stairs and grabbed her coat of the banister, yawning again. Giving Dawn and Willow each a quick hug, Buffy reminded Dawn to get to bed at a reasonable hour, and with that, she was out the door into the chilly night air.

Willow turned away from the door and saw that Dawn was looking at her dubiously. "What?" she asked.

Dawn's eyebrows lifted in an expression of skepticism. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Willow felt her stomach flip-flop.

"Okay," Dawn replied, shrugging her shoulders. She turned and started walking up the stairs.

"Tell her what?" Willow repeated, but Dawn just kept climbing, eventually heading to her room without another word.

Great, Willow mused. Is there anyone who can't read me like a book? Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat, Willow trudged up to her room to distract herself with good old-fashioned homework.