Author's Note: Read and review. Let me know what you think. Coming up next? Xander.

Unwatchful Eyes: Giles

He hadn't seen it, when Spike raced up the tower to Dawn's rescue. He hadn't seen it because he'd been caught up in saving his own neck and keeping the minions at bay. So, he hadn't seen when Spike had taken Doc over the edge of the tower with him, or was staked for his efforts.

He hadn't seen when Anya had been skewered. Ironic, really. He and Xander had been not five feet away, trudging unknowingly on Spike's dust when her cry rang out in the night air. But he hadn't turned around. He hadn't even seen Anya take her last breath.

He hadn't seen Dawn jump. For all that's holy, he hadn't even seen it when the portal opened, as large as it was, white and blue energy sparking. He didn't see as Dawn ran and leaped, falling to the rubble. He hadn't seen her take the jump that would end her life, see her fulfill her supposed destiny. He had seen her body, though.

He hadn't seen Willow die. He hadn't seen her and Tara struggle, or the sacrifice Willow made. All he knew was what the insane Tara told him. That there was fire.

Tara's leaning over Dawn's dead body when he finds her. He guides her away. Away from the death, the destruction, and the death. He has no clue where Xander and Buffy are, but he prays for their souls, needing to take care of Tara.

They hurry through the streets in the early morning light of Sunnydale; he wants to get her to his flat. Only, they'll never arrive there.

She's staring upwards and her follows her line of vision, noticing a dragon. A dragon managed to escape Glory's dimension and is now on its way to wreck Sunnydale.

He pulls out a sword, hearing Tara insanely chant, "Kill."

"Tara," he turns to face her, looking into empty eyes. "If you can understand what I'm saying…run…and get help." He pauses as she stares at him. His voice gains a desperate hint. "Help."

"Help," she repeats him and he nods as she slowly backs away. "Help." She whispers as he turns to face the incoming dragon.

It swoops down on him and he raises his sword. He has no delusions that he will survive this. His concerns are the people of this town and keeping them innocent.

The fight is short-lived; he thrusts the sword into the dragon's heart as its claws sink into his stomach. Pain shoots through his body as the demon keels over and he falls to his knees, Tara disappearing around a corner far away.

He feels like it's his entire fault, though. Nothing will give him his peace. Everyone that died, it was his fault. The fault of his unwatchful eyes.

For being a highly reputed and successful watcher, Rupert Giles feels much like a failure when his heart stops.