"Well, it-it says that . . . um, that . . . sometimes, if a person is hypnotized against their will more than once, it can, uh, open the old connection too, even though it makes a new one. It can . . . well, it says rip away the scabs of the first incident."
Giles went still, his jaw clenching tight as memories tried to assault his mind. He held them back through sheer force of will, his headache growing more insistent. The voices around him, Wesley, Willow, Xander blurred into indistinguishable noise.
Collapsing into his desk chair, Giles laid his head in his hands. There was someone next to him, someone touching him, but he couldn't bring himself to look up, to move his head at all and if they were speaking, the voice was lost in the cacophony. Gasping, the pressure in his head increasing, Giles felt as if he would pass out, as if he would be pressed from his own head.
There was darkness. Still the voices, coming from everywhere, all familiar, but incomprehensible. His hands hurt, arms shaking with some effort he couldn't identify. Something was wrong, but he couldn't say what.
Blinking as the world exploded once more into his vision, Giles saw Wesley's face, contorted in pain, his own hands around Wesley's neck, hands pulling at him, voices loud, calling.
"Dear god!" Letting go, Giles threw himself backward, breathing hard and staring at his hands. He looked back to Wesley, his mouth hanging open though there were no words. Wesley crawled backwards away from him, raising one hand to his throat as he gulped in air.
"Giles?" Willow was next to him, calling to him, but Giles couldn't take his eyes off Wesley, off the fear in the man's eyes. What had he done? What had happened? That he didn't know appalled him, that he'd hurt someone and didn't remember a moment of it was . . . totally unacceptable and . . . terrifying.
His heart was hammering in his chest, beating so hard he could feel it rushing the blood through his body. "Oh, God," he said softly, his voice so hoarse one might have thought he was the one who'd been choked. "Wesley, I . . . I didn't . . ."
"Giles!" Willow finally caught his attention. His eyes snapped to her, standing beside him and he couldn't help but wander what might have happened had he attacked her instead of Wesley. Such a small neck and . . .
"Oh, god," he said again, bile burning his throat. "I have to go," he said with a shake of his head. "I have to . . . I can't be around you, any of you."
"Giles, you can't go anywhere by yourself," Xander objected. "You can't drive and--"
"Then lock me in the book cage," Giles interrupted, handing the keys over to Willow, glancing at Wesley with apologetic eyes. The man had climbed to his feet with Xander's help, his hand still against his throat. He looked at Giles, his eyes wide, both confused and worried.
That Wesley was still worried for him, even after . . . "Lock me in the book cage," Giles said again, sighing.
"Uh, no, we . . . can't do that," Willow said, shaking her head.
"I can," Xander said, holding out his hand for the keys.
"No," Wesley said, voice hoarse and ragged, making Giles flinch with the knowledge that he'd caused it to sound that way. "It's a full moon tonight," he explained with a shrug, accepting the cup of water Willow handed to him.
"Damn," Giles growled, raising a hand to rub at his aching head without a thought. The action was becoming too common to think about. The pounding was back, stronger than before, making his stomach turn. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Giles reached out to lean on his desk, wondering what it felt like just before one fainted.
"I'll get you home," Wesley said, suddenly appearing at his side. "Some rest will do you good."
"Yes, because it would be the perfect cap to the day if I attacked you again. While you were driving would be just the right time, don't you think?" Giles couldn't actually bring himself to glare at Wesley, mostly because he still felt too guilty to even look at the man.
He'd choked him, might have killed him and never . . . had the chance to stop it. He felt odd, completely out of control and . . . more frightened than he'd like to admit.
"Well, it isn't as if you can take a cab. I wouldn't trust the driver to untie you when you got to your flat." Wesley's voice was still rough around the edges, but the water seemed to have helped. Giles glanced up at him and nodded, still not quite ready to meet the other man's eyes.
"You're right. I certainly can't be here, around all of you." Giving Willow and Xander an apologetic glance, he held out his wrists for them to tie him.