CHAPTER FOUR: THE LETTER
Giles had sat with the envelope on his lap for nearly an hour, staring at the single word written on the front of it. 'Giles'. Her words to him. His peek into the envelope at the airport had told him how much his Slayer had to say to him, and he had been a little shocked by the sheer volume of it. He had been lucky to get more than a few sentences out of her, even in regards to a demon let alone about anything personal.
Sighing, Giles ordered a glass of scotch from the drinks cart and after gulping it down, found the courage to open the envelope. The woman sitting next to him looked at him curiously.
"I was wondering if you would open that," she said quietly.
He looked up at her, startled by the almost brazen comment. Of course, she was American, so it shouldn't have really surprised him at all. She looked to be a little younger than he, an attractive brunette woman with straight hair and a button nose.
"I uh…I'm a little nervous actually," he admitted.
She smiled kindly at him. "From a girlfriend?"
"No. My…my daughter really," he said. Daughter. The Council had forbidden him to grow even slightly attached to his Slayer, and she had ended up becoming the daughter he had never had a chance to have. And he was so very proud of her, of who she had been. Of who she could be if he wasn't there to take every step for her.
The woman smiled again. "How old is she?"
"Twenty, nearly twenty-one," he replied.
"They grow up fast, don't they?" she asked.
Too fast, he thought.
Giles just nodded, not wanting to disagree with her. A cascade of memories poured through him.
Giles…I'm sixteen. I don't wanna die.
He had wanted to prevent it from happening. He had been ready to go in her place and he almost had. But she had gathered her strength and her courage and had gone to meet her destiny. It had cost her life, but she hadn't been alone as so many Slayer's had been before. Xander had found her and revived her.
I realise that every Slayer comes with an expiration date on the packet. But I want mine to be a long time from now. Like a Cheeto.
She had said that and had died only a few months later. Her flippant words had cut into him as they did every time they had discussed the possibility of her death. It hadn't been a regular topic though, no one in the Gang had liked discussing it and Buffy herself had tried not to think of it at all unless she absolutely had to.
Hey, I've died twice.
Giles had smiled to keep himself from crying. Yes, she had died twice. And now, she was dying a third time because she wouldn't step up and take care of herself.
Yeah, I'm pretty spry for a corpse.
He hated the jokes she made about her death. The post post-mortem comedy as she had once labelled it. She had always used levity to cope with things, but joking about the worst six months of his entire life was just a little too distasteful for Giles. He had understood her need for it though.
Hate suffering…had about as much of it as I can take.
Her words, so angry, so full of pain, and yet so very hollow as well. He had wanted to stay, and he would have said yes if she had begged him a little more. He hated refusing her anything, especially now. And walking away from her was painful, more painful than he had imagined it would be. It hurt him right through his soul.
"Is she in England or California?" the woman asked, breaking Giles out of his trip down memory lane.
"California," he replied regretfully. "I wish she was coming with me."
She smiled and patted his hand kindly. "I know what you mean. My son's in England whish is why I'm going there. It hurts but…they have to make their own way eventually. No matter how much we don't want to let them go," she said with a smile.
He smiled at that, understanding all too well. He didn't want to let go of Buffy and her friends. He desperately wanted to stay but he knew he was doing the right thing. He could only hope that Buffy would agree with him. He looked down at the letter in his hands again and sighed, wondering if he would soon find out what his Slayer truly felt about his leaving.
"Well, good luck with that thing," the woman eventually said, giving him permission to withdraw from their conversation and read to his hearts content. Giles was inordinately grateful for the reprieve.
He shuffled the papers and finally began to read.
Dear Giles,
It's funny how I've never even once called you Rupert. In the six years I've known you, it never even occurred to me to call you that. You have and always will be Giles to me.
Six years. It's hard to believe, isn't it? It feels like a lifetime, though six years is probably two lifetimes for a Slayer, huh? I've always wondered how long the longest Slayer lived…any ideas knowledge guy?
Hey, I meant to ask…what does the Council think about all of this? The me coming back thing? There wasn't a new Slayer called was there? Cos of Faith? I wonder how she is…Would the Council ever just kill her to get a new Slayer? No, wait…I already know that. Remember when Faith and I switched bodies? The Council ordered 'the kill', so I get the impression that they liked her even less than I did. I only just got out of that.
You know, before I met Quentin Travers, I thought that all of the Watchers were as wonderful as you and Merrick. Then came Wes. Poor guy. I think I owe him an apology for all the crap I put him through when he tried to take over. It's not like it was his fault that he wasn't you.
I wonder what'll happen now. I mean…does the Council even know I'm back? Do I hafta have a new Watcher? Cos, honestly, I don't think I'd wanna hafta break a new Watcher in. 'Sides, he'd never be anywhere near as good as you. If the Council wants to send someone, tell em not to bother. I'll keep slaying, but I don't want a Watcher who isn't you.
Geez…I'm like a page in and I'm no where near getting to the point of this letter. If there is a point at all. I think there was one at one stage, but it mighta got lost somewhere. It's meant to be a thank you and an apology all wrapped up in one.
I should probably do the apology thing first though, huh? I don't think I can ever say it properly. How do you tell the man that means everything to you that you're sorry for about sixty million things without it sounding fake or forced. Cos it's not fake and it's not forced. I am sorry. For so many things.
You hauled ass back from England expecting to see your Slayer and instead you pretty much got a broken shell of someone you once knew. I wish I could have been her for you. I tried so hard, but…your Slayer's dead Giles. And what's left of her is really a bit of a joke.
It's funny really. It took me dying for a second time before I got a proper death wish. Before I jumped though…I hafta admit, I kinda wanted out. I think you knew that as well. When we were talking in the training room just before I died, when I was talking about the choices we hafta make…I think I knew that I wouldn't be able to walk away from this battle. I think I knew that if Dawn died, I would too. But I found a way around it. I guess that didn't matter to the Gang though.
Remember how the Spirit Guide told me that death was my gift. It wasn't about me killing demons or anything like that. I think it was meant to be a gift to me. That I finally got an out. That I was finally done with this godforsaken place. That I could finally have everything finished. And I wanted it. Desperately.
Don't get me wrong, I love you and I love my sister. I loved my friends, but honestly…it wasn't enough. It still isn't enough. I'm struggling to think of reasons to even get up in the mornings. And…if it weren't for Dawn, I wouldn't have stuck around. I wouldn't have lasted a week.
You know…I just read over the last few paragraphs and I just noticed something. 'I loved my friends'. Loved, past tense. I'm beginning to wonder if I hate them for what they did to me. I think I do. Or Willow at least. I heard that fight you had with her the first night you were back. When you said you trusted her above the others to make sure that nothing happened.
I can almost forgive the others. Xander and Anya probably had no idea what they were getting into. They probably didn't realise what could go wrong. And I get that they thought I was in hell, it's kind of a fair enough assumption. I mean, I jumped into a portal so, I guess I get why they thought that, but…Will and Tara are witches, and…surely there's a way to contact the dead or something. I mean…if they can bring me back, couldn't they have tried to contact me or something. Like with a séance or something?
Woah…tangent much? I was apologising.
I'm sorry about what I said to you at the shop before the whole memory reversal thing. You aren't wrong to be going. I get why you are and deep deep deep down, I do understand. I really can't blame you for wanting to leave. I'd leave me too if I could.
I probably owe you an apology for threatening to kill you, huh? I mean, telling you that I would do anything to anyone who laid a finger on Dawn was a little over the top, but…I was a little crazed that night. I think I was channelling your inner Ripper. I was terrified of losing her. And, honestly, I probably would have killed every single person in the world if they tried to take Dawn from me. Even you if I had to. I never would have forgiven myself, but I would have done it.
I'm sorry for the six years of crap I've put you through. I'm sorry for Jenny. I'm sorry for not having the strength to kill Angelus when I had the chance. It would have simpled things up so much. I'm sorry I ran away. It's funny really. I would have thought I could never feel that low ever again, but I was so incredibly wrong. Where I'm at now…tops it, hands down. Back then, it hurt to be in Sunnydale. Now, it just hurts, no matter where I am or what I do.
I'm sorry for the year before last when I left you out of things. One time you tell me you can't help me and I hold it against you for an entire year. Definitely not mature. I guess I kinda took the childish approach of taking your words to the extreme even when you apologised for them.
I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I guess I was just trying to not deal with everything. Not very mature, huh? I'm right here in Sunnydale, and I'm still running away from everything.
Did you know I haven't cried since I've been back? Kinda sucky really. I wish I could cry again. So…if I don't cry at the airport, it's nothing personal.
I'm hoping that you've kinda got the whole "I'm sorry" thing. Cos…well, I'd be able to write about fifty other incidents that I should be apologising for, but then this letter would just be enormous.
Onto the thank you's then. God, I don't even know where to start. The beginning I guess.
Thank you for being my Watcher. Thank you for not letting me walk away from you that first day in Sunnydale. You knew I'd be back though, didn't you? You'd known me for a day and already there was something between us.
Thank you for your friendship, for your guidance, for your loyalty. Thank you for putting your heart above all else and thank you for teaching me how to do the same thing. Before I died, you told me you were proud because I could put my feelings above everything else, but…really, it was only cos of you that I could even do that. When I met Kendra, I kinda had to wonder what was so different between she and I. And I knew that the difference had been you. I saw how you were with her, and I knew that you sort of wished that I could be more studious, more dedicated, but…at the same time, I knew that you didn't want me to be anything like her. When she first came here, she was just a complete slaying machine. And that's what the Council wanted, isn't it? For the Slayer to just be their perfect little automatons that could kill things with their bare hands. So thank you for not letting me become like that.
Thank you for never blaming me for what happened to Jenny. Thank you for your support and your respect that you unswervingly offered to me, even when I didn't deserve it. Thank you for staying with me even though you were free to leave after Travers fired you. Thank you for never letting me do this alone, even though that's how it was always meant to be. You and me against the world. I think I lasted much longer cos of the others. Hell, they're the reason I'm back.
Giles…I love you. I wish I had told you that more often. And even though I know you probably won't approve but…I think I'm falling for Spike. I know, I know, another vampire, but…Giles…I think I might love him.
Giles pulled off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He had known that there was something building between his Slayer and the peroxided Vampire. He could only hope that Buffy's trust would not be broken and that her heart would not be torn out as it had with Angel.
He sighed and put the letter back into the envelope, knowing he would finish it when he returned to his flat. For now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and pray that his Slayer would find her way.