Chapter Six: To Watch
So this is what it feels like. To finally be done. How remarkably unfulfilling.
Giles stared at Buffy's body with a detached professionalism that would have done Travers proud. He concentrated hard, determined to capture every detail forever in his mind. He had one final entry to make, after all.
"Love ya, but you Watchers are such prigs sometimes."
He had always known that it would end this way. He had hoped, as all parents do, to die long before their child, but such a simple expectation was all but doomed to failure between Watchers and Slayers. It was, in fact, the first lesson the Council drilled into the heads of their prospective automatons.
He had sat through more boring lectures on disassociation and impartial observation than he cared to remember, and was both surprised and ashamed to find his mind searching back through the decades to the techniques long forgotten. It simply wouldn't do to become part of this. He was a Watcher.
He had to watch.
Just like he'd watched as Buffy's innocence was chipped away. When they had first met, he had been irritated by her insolence and seeming inability to put the safety of the world above some unfathomable desire to date boys and buy shoes. Giles had argued tirelessly with Buffy about her sacred duties. Better to force her into accepting her destiny now, rather than allow her to foster any misconceptions and face greater pain down the road as she woke up one day and realized that some people in this world simply aren't allowed to be fighter pilots. He watched as his words bounced off and through her, unheeded and ignored, something endearing to poke fun at behind his back. He watched as some days, she began to think he might just be right. He watched as she eventually gave up all hope for any other kind of life.
He had to watch.
Giles wondered when exactly he stopped being her Watcher and became her father. He may not have realized it until the Council forced him to put her through that barbaric test, but it had happened before that. When he had felt the rage bubble up within him as that troll Snyder, with no small amount of glee, informed the faculty that not only was Buffy Summers expelled from school, but that any teachers seeing her on campus were to notify the police immediately? Perhaps when she had overheard him discussing the Codex prophecy about the Master, and had turned on him with such fear and anguish. He wasn't sure. Love was often elusive like that. Sometimes it hit you like a freight train, crystallizing in one easily recalled moment of clarity. At others, it just snuck up on you, subtly morphing from one thing to another while assuring you all the while that it had always been there and never changed.
Which was something of the problem, you see, because Watchers weren't supposed to love their Slayers. They were supposed to watch them. Report on them. Guide them. But never love them.
It briefly occurred to Giles that this was his fault. Oh, not just in a guilty, grief-laden sense. That was obvious. Rather, Giles began to wonder if maybe the Council hadn't been right about everything after all, and that Buffy was now lying dead because of his love for her. She had been so adamant about protecting Dawn that he allowed her happiness to take precedence over his good judgment. He had kept quiet about the Key, despite the fact that with this knowledge, the Council could have helped them discover Glory's plans much sooner, giving them the opportunity to decide what must be done to stop her with more than an hour or so to spare. Would the Council have wanted to take Dawn away? Test her and study her? Kill her? Quite possibly. Even probably. They would do it all in the name of saving the world. And in the name of saving the world, Giles suspected he would have let them.
But there's that love again. For Buffy and for Dawn. For all of them. Sometimes it was so strong that it paled in comparison to his own sacred duties. Most times, if he were being completely honest with himself.
One simply cannot love and watch at the same time. The Council understood this. Giles only understood that every day he loved her he took a step away from his destiny, just as Buffy was forced further towards hers. It hardly seemed fair.
With his Slayer's death, Giles felt pages turn for both of them. She had fulfilled her lot in life, as had he. He had done his duty, averted the apocalypse, and gotten his Slayer killed. It was a full day's work for a Watcher.
The page had turned, but the book wasn't yet ready to be closed. Buffy had lamented the appalling lack of detail regarding past Slayers and their final battles. She had been hoping for some insight into where they had failed, some sort of way to ensure her own life would not end so tragically. He had failed her on that too. But Giles drew some small amount of comfort from knowing that Buffy's final sacrifice would not go undocumented. Any possible lesson to be learned would be made available. Not just for future generations of Slayers, but for their Watchers as well.
It was hard to love them. But harder still just to watch.