Come Together
(Never Tear Us Apart series #3)
by GylzGirl
Disc: Characters owned by Joss, WB, Mutant Enemy (Grr, Argh), Kuzui, Fox, etc. Not I. Excerpts taken directly from WTTH, owned by same said, not me people. I call dibs on the actual story.
Spoilers: Thru Helpless
Rating: Ooh, um PG I'd say
Type: Angst? You're soaking in it! (aka, "Aww, I need a hug.")
Author's Note: This story is the third in a Series. Preceding it were Verge and She Alone. Thanks to Kazza, and Meawan for beta help and pointers.
Written: 1999
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Buffy tiredly descended Giles' stairs after having tucked her Watcher in. As soon as she had found out the hospital had given Giles pain pills, she called her mother to inform her she would be staying the next few nights at Giles' house. She wasn't about to chance him overdosing, accidentally or otherwise, in his tenuous mental state. Buffy could only imagine what her Mother must have thought of it but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was repairing this damage between Watcher and Slayer. That was what she wanted more than anything else in the world but she felt like she was about to try to bail out the Titanic with nothing but a child's beach pail.
She pulled on her jacket and quietly exited the apartment. Giles had said that if she insisted on staying to mother him, there could be no interruption in her duties. Which meant patrol. She smiled, remembering him standing with his hands on his hips in an attempt to be stern, to seem as though he were reluctantly humoring her request to look after him. She could tell that he dug the idea. Which meant he was willing...wanting to mend the gap as much as she did, but would he be able? Would he be able to forgive her for things she hadn't forgiven herself for yet?
The cool night breeze played through her hair as she walked the perimeter of the park. She idly fingered the stake in her pocket. 'Come on vampires, come out and play with me. Give me something to kill. Something I'm good at.' She wasn't comfortable spending so much time in her own head, analyzing, thinking. That was what had gotten her into so much trouble in the first place. She acted instinctively, which worked terrific with the undead, not so good with the living. Buffy heard a noise from the bushes and pulled her stake, ready to strike and thankful for the mental respite. She prowled closer, ready to pounce. A sleek gray cat trotted out of the foliage.
She came out of her battle stance, laughed and walked over to the merry-go-round. She sat and spun it slowly with her feet. The cat made its way over and sat staring up at her as she rotated. Buffy smiled down and gathered it into her lap. She needed a plan of attack. She was good at following a plan of attack. The problem being Giles was the real planner. She couldn't exactly go up to him and say "Giles I need some advice. I have to have a serious talk with you but you're too frail to handle it just now and if I put it off much longer, I may cause us even more harm. What do I do?"
Buffy sighed. She hugged the cat briefly against her chest, and then she sat it on the ground. As it slinked off into the night she resumed her rounds, heading toward the cemetery.
After her initial sweep, she sat on the headstone of the grave of Billy Fordham. Buffy looked out across the sea of headstones. Kendra was buried out there too, and Jenny, Jesse, Theresa. Too many others. Sometimes it felt as though she had more dead friends than living ones. And Giles almost joined them. She wasn't being careful with her friends, taking advantage while they lived and mourning when they died, not giving up her emotions to them until they were no longer here to care.
Buffy stood, making her decision. There was no more time to waste. No one had a time guarantee, but to take time for granted on the Hellmouth was beyond stupidity, and Buffy didn't like to feel stupid. She took one last pass through the cemetery and made her way back to Giles' house.
She entered the living room, still lit only by the small desk lamp she'd left on. She hung up her jacket and went upstairs to check on Giles. The sound of his steady breathing filled the darkened loft. He was laying on his side, his back to her, rolled up under the covers on the far side of the bed. Buffy exhaled, a little disappointed, a little relieved and turned to go.
She was two steps down when her ears caught a slight increase in the pace of his breaths. She silently reentered the room, listening intently. It seemed to get faster and faster, then a barely audible whimper, and soon a groan.
Buffy wrapped her arms around her waist and approached. "Giles?" hardly more than a whisper, still afraid to wake him.
"Buffy?" She could tell he wasn't talking to her, even though he called her name. He sounded so scared. She crawled onto the covers and grabbed his shoulder, gently shaking him.
"Giles? Giles wake up. You're having a bad dream."
His hand moved up and grasped her own, tight enough to bruise a normal person. "Giles?" He hadn't awakened, but he didn't seem to be having the nightmare anymore. Now Buffy had a more immediate dilemma. Giles had her hand clutched against his chest. 'Well do you wake him, if you can get him to wake up? Do you gnaw off the arm at your elbow like a bear in a trap?' Buffy sighed and settled in close behind him. She lay her cheek atop his own and let her captivity become an embrace. Letting the steady rhythm of his breathing comfort her, she soon drifted to sleep.
Giles opened his eyes, still a little foggy from the pain medication. He glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. The next thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. His fingers were interlaced with a much smaller hand than his own. He carefully turned over and saw Buffy sleeping soundly on the pillow beside him.
Giles smiled and brushed the hair back from her face. He quieted his inner voice before it could even get started on the improperness of her sleeping in his bed with him, reminding himself it was perfectly innocent, as Ripper reminded him she was over the age of consent and the day was still young. He folded his crumpled blankets over her to cover her up, unweaved their fingers carefully so as not to disturb her, and made his way to the bathroom.
When he emerged 15 minutes later, freshly showered, shaved and changed into a clean pair of pants, shirt and braces, Buffy was still asleep in the bed, hugging his pillow to her chest. He knew they needed to talk, but she had likely been up most of the night patrolling and worrying about him. He wasn't about to wake her yet. He flexed his arm with a wince. The pain was back.
Giles looked to the bottle of pills on the dresser. No. He didn't need one quite yet. He put one in his pocket for later and headed downstairs. He promised himself, no matter how bad the pain was, he would only use them until the end of the week. As the Watcher, he couldn't afford to risk addiction. No, that's right, he wasn't the Watcher anymore so perhaps it didn't matter. But the kids still needed to have him there fit and strong, didn't they? No, he needed to stop thinking like this. He'd been down this road of self-pity before and it only led to the bottle. "And the emergency room," he added out loud as another flash of pain rioted up his arm.
He went to his kitchen, fixed a cup of tea and brought it into his living room. He sat on the sofa, tried to take a sip and nearly dropped the cup as his arm seized in agony. Giles fished in his pocket for the pain pill and popped it into his mouth, a quick swig of the tea helping to wash it down.
Giles leaned his head against the back of the sofa. He felt as though everything was spiraling out of control and he was helpless to stop it. More so, he wasn't so sure he wanted to. He was tired of trying. He'd tried his whole life and all it had led him to was this. Now, he was just too tired to care, so very tired.
Buffy awoke near 12:30. She rubbed her sleep-heavy eyes with the back of her hand and looked around for Giles. Finding no sign of him in the bedroom, she got to her feet and made her way downstairs.
Giles was sitting on the couch, head leaned back, mouth wide open. The only indication he was sleeping and not dead was the soft snoring coming from his direction. Buffy walked to the sofa and sat next to him. She was watching him, trying to imagine her life at this moment if he had died in this very room the other night. Unconsciously, she grabbed a hold of his hand. She was also waiting for him to wake up so they could talk. She decided to take the initiative.
"Giles?" She said it so quietly she wasn't sure she hadn't just thought it. He remained perfectly still. She cleared her throat. "Giles?" He shifted a little and mumbled. Buffy licked her lips, one more and he would wake up. And they would be talking. And she could finally ask him why things had gone so wrong the other night. And he could tell her it was because she had hurt and disappointed him so much he didn't want to live. She inhaled to say his name. His hand tightened around her own. She gulped, rested her head against his chest and gratefully listened to him breathe.
She had come so close to never hearing that sound again, to never feeling his hand, warm with life, in her own, again. The tears she had willed not to come spilled over anyway. She buried her face against his chest in an unknowing desperation for comfort and wept as quietly as she could manage.
Giles began to feel a wet sensation on his chest and awoke to find Buffy pillowed against him, crying her eyes out. "Buffy?"
She heard him say her name, knew he was awake, tried to stop her tears. It only made her cry harder.
"Buffy?" Her hand let go of his, instead coming to his shirt, grasping a small amount of the material and clinging.
He smoothed her hair with a shaking hand. "Please, what is it? Please please don't cry." He knew if she didn't stop soon, there would be no way for him to fight back his own tears. "Shh, is it something I've done? You have to tell me."
"No. It's me. I'm so sorry."
"What about?"
"EVERYTHING!" She erupted into sobs again. He leaned his head down atop her own, making comforting sounds until she quieted once more. "There I go doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Taking. Making you have to comfort me when I should be the one comforting you."
"Can't we comfort each other? Isn't that part of a partnership?"
"But you give me so much, and I..."
"You give to me too."
"When?"
"You're staying with me until I can manage without these damn pills."
"Yes but..."
"And you came and kept me company in the hospital."
"BUT I PUT YOU THERE!" She wailed and fell apart, crying so hard that she dissolved into a fit of hiccuping sobs. Giles' subconscious, no doubt assisted by the pain pills he was on, connected the action to Lucy whining for Ricky to let her be in the show. A grin broke out on his face. He could feel a laugh coming and tried to muffle it in her hair, unsuccessfully.
Buffy sat back a minute, blinking back tears. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No," he said, looking toward the door.
"You are! You're laughing at me!"
"No." He turned his head further from her sight.
"Stop it!" He couldn't stop himself now and cracked up. Buffy felt herself smile, even though she was fuming. "I said stop it. It's not funny."
"I'm sorry." He covered up his mouth but would still not look at her.
"I said it's not funny," she burst out laughing even as she said it. Buffy lightly slapped at his uninjured arm. He looked back in her direction. She had a hand over her mouth to try to muffle her giggles. It wasn't working. He reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She embraced him, laughing. He hugged her in return.
"I really am sorry. I think...I think I just needed a really good laugh. I think maybe we both did?"
"I agree." She smiled up at him. "But we still need to talk."
"I agree."
She sighed and looked down, remaining against his chest. "So where do we begin?"
"Well, I don't necessarily feel we have to rehash everything all over again."
She blinked up at him questioningly. "Okay."
"Suffice it to say, y-you hurt me very badly." She gulped. "A-and I know I've hurt you. The important thing is, we go on. We try not to do it anymore, and if we do, we don't let it fester." He cast a pointed glance her direction. "And we don't run away from it either, by bus or by bottle."
Buffy took a deep breath. "Okay, I can handle that."
"And what happened the other night," she felt her chest tighten with his words, "wasn't your fault." She was flooded with relief. "And I didn't purposefully try to hurt myself. I-It just happened. I'm not sure why."
"That worries me."
"I know."
"If you don't know why it happened before..."
"How do I know it won't happen again?"
"Yeah."
"Honestly, I can't be sure."
"Are you worried about the new Watcher?" He didn't answer. "Giles?"
"Should I be?"
"Nope. Not an issue. You're my Watcher. He can have Faith if he wants."
"What if he's cute?"
She grinned up at him. "Why Rupert Giles, are you jealous?"
"I-I didn't mean it like that."
"Doesn't matter. We're the A-Team, a package deal, you jump I jump and various other references you won't get."
He smiled. "Well, I suppose that's a relief."
"So how cute are we talking here?"
"Buffy."
"Joke, kidding."
"I gathered."
"How are you feeling?"
"Actually pretty good. Little achy but better than I have for a long long time." Unconsciously, he squeezed her a little tighter.
"I think maybe it's a good night for a little group bonding?"
"Meaning?"
"I call Will, Oz, and Xander, have them clear the shelves at the local Blockbuster on their way over. We order enough pizza to feed a small third world nation." She looked up and he was smiling brightly. "Feel up to it?"
"I do indeed. Let me go upstairs and change into something a little more pizza oriented." He released her and started up the stairs. "Tell Willow no Titanic again, Xander no Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Oz no Casablanca."
"Spoil their fun."
"I'm the old guy remember? It's my job." He disappeared into his bedroom. Buffy picked up the phone's handset from its cradle, held it against her chest for a moment, and took a deep breath; just happy to have another boring gang video night with all members accounted for.
The End
(Never Tear Us Apart series #3)
by GylzGirl
Disc: Characters owned by Joss, WB, Mutant Enemy (Grr, Argh), Kuzui, Fox, etc. Not I. Excerpts taken directly from WTTH, owned by same said, not me people. I call dibs on the actual story.
Spoilers: Thru Helpless
Rating: Ooh, um PG I'd say
Type: Angst? You're soaking in it! (aka, "Aww, I need a hug.")
Author's Note: This story is the third in a Series. Preceding it were Verge and She Alone. Thanks to Kazza, and Meawan for beta help and pointers.
Written: 1999
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Buffy tiredly descended Giles' stairs after having tucked her Watcher in. As soon as she had found out the hospital had given Giles pain pills, she called her mother to inform her she would be staying the next few nights at Giles' house. She wasn't about to chance him overdosing, accidentally or otherwise, in his tenuous mental state. Buffy could only imagine what her Mother must have thought of it but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was repairing this damage between Watcher and Slayer. That was what she wanted more than anything else in the world but she felt like she was about to try to bail out the Titanic with nothing but a child's beach pail.
She pulled on her jacket and quietly exited the apartment. Giles had said that if she insisted on staying to mother him, there could be no interruption in her duties. Which meant patrol. She smiled, remembering him standing with his hands on his hips in an attempt to be stern, to seem as though he were reluctantly humoring her request to look after him. She could tell that he dug the idea. Which meant he was willing...wanting to mend the gap as much as she did, but would he be able? Would he be able to forgive her for things she hadn't forgiven herself for yet?
The cool night breeze played through her hair as she walked the perimeter of the park. She idly fingered the stake in her pocket. 'Come on vampires, come out and play with me. Give me something to kill. Something I'm good at.' She wasn't comfortable spending so much time in her own head, analyzing, thinking. That was what had gotten her into so much trouble in the first place. She acted instinctively, which worked terrific with the undead, not so good with the living. Buffy heard a noise from the bushes and pulled her stake, ready to strike and thankful for the mental respite. She prowled closer, ready to pounce. A sleek gray cat trotted out of the foliage.
She came out of her battle stance, laughed and walked over to the merry-go-round. She sat and spun it slowly with her feet. The cat made its way over and sat staring up at her as she rotated. Buffy smiled down and gathered it into her lap. She needed a plan of attack. She was good at following a plan of attack. The problem being Giles was the real planner. She couldn't exactly go up to him and say "Giles I need some advice. I have to have a serious talk with you but you're too frail to handle it just now and if I put it off much longer, I may cause us even more harm. What do I do?"
Buffy sighed. She hugged the cat briefly against her chest, and then she sat it on the ground. As it slinked off into the night she resumed her rounds, heading toward the cemetery.
After her initial sweep, she sat on the headstone of the grave of Billy Fordham. Buffy looked out across the sea of headstones. Kendra was buried out there too, and Jenny, Jesse, Theresa. Too many others. Sometimes it felt as though she had more dead friends than living ones. And Giles almost joined them. She wasn't being careful with her friends, taking advantage while they lived and mourning when they died, not giving up her emotions to them until they were no longer here to care.
Buffy stood, making her decision. There was no more time to waste. No one had a time guarantee, but to take time for granted on the Hellmouth was beyond stupidity, and Buffy didn't like to feel stupid. She took one last pass through the cemetery and made her way back to Giles' house.
She entered the living room, still lit only by the small desk lamp she'd left on. She hung up her jacket and went upstairs to check on Giles. The sound of his steady breathing filled the darkened loft. He was laying on his side, his back to her, rolled up under the covers on the far side of the bed. Buffy exhaled, a little disappointed, a little relieved and turned to go.
She was two steps down when her ears caught a slight increase in the pace of his breaths. She silently reentered the room, listening intently. It seemed to get faster and faster, then a barely audible whimper, and soon a groan.
Buffy wrapped her arms around her waist and approached. "Giles?" hardly more than a whisper, still afraid to wake him.
"Buffy?" She could tell he wasn't talking to her, even though he called her name. He sounded so scared. She crawled onto the covers and grabbed his shoulder, gently shaking him.
"Giles? Giles wake up. You're having a bad dream."
His hand moved up and grasped her own, tight enough to bruise a normal person. "Giles?" He hadn't awakened, but he didn't seem to be having the nightmare anymore. Now Buffy had a more immediate dilemma. Giles had her hand clutched against his chest. 'Well do you wake him, if you can get him to wake up? Do you gnaw off the arm at your elbow like a bear in a trap?' Buffy sighed and settled in close behind him. She lay her cheek atop his own and let her captivity become an embrace. Letting the steady rhythm of his breathing comfort her, she soon drifted to sleep.
Giles opened his eyes, still a little foggy from the pain medication. He glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. The next thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. His fingers were interlaced with a much smaller hand than his own. He carefully turned over and saw Buffy sleeping soundly on the pillow beside him.
Giles smiled and brushed the hair back from her face. He quieted his inner voice before it could even get started on the improperness of her sleeping in his bed with him, reminding himself it was perfectly innocent, as Ripper reminded him she was over the age of consent and the day was still young. He folded his crumpled blankets over her to cover her up, unweaved their fingers carefully so as not to disturb her, and made his way to the bathroom.
When he emerged 15 minutes later, freshly showered, shaved and changed into a clean pair of pants, shirt and braces, Buffy was still asleep in the bed, hugging his pillow to her chest. He knew they needed to talk, but she had likely been up most of the night patrolling and worrying about him. He wasn't about to wake her yet. He flexed his arm with a wince. The pain was back.
Giles looked to the bottle of pills on the dresser. No. He didn't need one quite yet. He put one in his pocket for later and headed downstairs. He promised himself, no matter how bad the pain was, he would only use them until the end of the week. As the Watcher, he couldn't afford to risk addiction. No, that's right, he wasn't the Watcher anymore so perhaps it didn't matter. But the kids still needed to have him there fit and strong, didn't they? No, he needed to stop thinking like this. He'd been down this road of self-pity before and it only led to the bottle. "And the emergency room," he added out loud as another flash of pain rioted up his arm.
He went to his kitchen, fixed a cup of tea and brought it into his living room. He sat on the sofa, tried to take a sip and nearly dropped the cup as his arm seized in agony. Giles fished in his pocket for the pain pill and popped it into his mouth, a quick swig of the tea helping to wash it down.
Giles leaned his head against the back of the sofa. He felt as though everything was spiraling out of control and he was helpless to stop it. More so, he wasn't so sure he wanted to. He was tired of trying. He'd tried his whole life and all it had led him to was this. Now, he was just too tired to care, so very tired.
Buffy awoke near 12:30. She rubbed her sleep-heavy eyes with the back of her hand and looked around for Giles. Finding no sign of him in the bedroom, she got to her feet and made her way downstairs.
Giles was sitting on the couch, head leaned back, mouth wide open. The only indication he was sleeping and not dead was the soft snoring coming from his direction. Buffy walked to the sofa and sat next to him. She was watching him, trying to imagine her life at this moment if he had died in this very room the other night. Unconsciously, she grabbed a hold of his hand. She was also waiting for him to wake up so they could talk. She decided to take the initiative.
"Giles?" She said it so quietly she wasn't sure she hadn't just thought it. He remained perfectly still. She cleared her throat. "Giles?" He shifted a little and mumbled. Buffy licked her lips, one more and he would wake up. And they would be talking. And she could finally ask him why things had gone so wrong the other night. And he could tell her it was because she had hurt and disappointed him so much he didn't want to live. She inhaled to say his name. His hand tightened around her own. She gulped, rested her head against his chest and gratefully listened to him breathe.
She had come so close to never hearing that sound again, to never feeling his hand, warm with life, in her own, again. The tears she had willed not to come spilled over anyway. She buried her face against his chest in an unknowing desperation for comfort and wept as quietly as she could manage.
Giles began to feel a wet sensation on his chest and awoke to find Buffy pillowed against him, crying her eyes out. "Buffy?"
She heard him say her name, knew he was awake, tried to stop her tears. It only made her cry harder.
"Buffy?" Her hand let go of his, instead coming to his shirt, grasping a small amount of the material and clinging.
He smoothed her hair with a shaking hand. "Please, what is it? Please please don't cry." He knew if she didn't stop soon, there would be no way for him to fight back his own tears. "Shh, is it something I've done? You have to tell me."
"No. It's me. I'm so sorry."
"What about?"
"EVERYTHING!" She erupted into sobs again. He leaned his head down atop her own, making comforting sounds until she quieted once more. "There I go doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Taking. Making you have to comfort me when I should be the one comforting you."
"Can't we comfort each other? Isn't that part of a partnership?"
"But you give me so much, and I..."
"You give to me too."
"When?"
"You're staying with me until I can manage without these damn pills."
"Yes but..."
"And you came and kept me company in the hospital."
"BUT I PUT YOU THERE!" She wailed and fell apart, crying so hard that she dissolved into a fit of hiccuping sobs. Giles' subconscious, no doubt assisted by the pain pills he was on, connected the action to Lucy whining for Ricky to let her be in the show. A grin broke out on his face. He could feel a laugh coming and tried to muffle it in her hair, unsuccessfully.
Buffy sat back a minute, blinking back tears. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No," he said, looking toward the door.
"You are! You're laughing at me!"
"No." He turned his head further from her sight.
"Stop it!" He couldn't stop himself now and cracked up. Buffy felt herself smile, even though she was fuming. "I said stop it. It's not funny."
"I'm sorry." He covered up his mouth but would still not look at her.
"I said it's not funny," she burst out laughing even as she said it. Buffy lightly slapped at his uninjured arm. He looked back in her direction. She had a hand over her mouth to try to muffle her giggles. It wasn't working. He reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She embraced him, laughing. He hugged her in return.
"I really am sorry. I think...I think I just needed a really good laugh. I think maybe we both did?"
"I agree." She smiled up at him. "But we still need to talk."
"I agree."
She sighed and looked down, remaining against his chest. "So where do we begin?"
"Well, I don't necessarily feel we have to rehash everything all over again."
She blinked up at him questioningly. "Okay."
"Suffice it to say, y-you hurt me very badly." She gulped. "A-and I know I've hurt you. The important thing is, we go on. We try not to do it anymore, and if we do, we don't let it fester." He cast a pointed glance her direction. "And we don't run away from it either, by bus or by bottle."
Buffy took a deep breath. "Okay, I can handle that."
"And what happened the other night," she felt her chest tighten with his words, "wasn't your fault." She was flooded with relief. "And I didn't purposefully try to hurt myself. I-It just happened. I'm not sure why."
"That worries me."
"I know."
"If you don't know why it happened before..."
"How do I know it won't happen again?"
"Yeah."
"Honestly, I can't be sure."
"Are you worried about the new Watcher?" He didn't answer. "Giles?"
"Should I be?"
"Nope. Not an issue. You're my Watcher. He can have Faith if he wants."
"What if he's cute?"
She grinned up at him. "Why Rupert Giles, are you jealous?"
"I-I didn't mean it like that."
"Doesn't matter. We're the A-Team, a package deal, you jump I jump and various other references you won't get."
He smiled. "Well, I suppose that's a relief."
"So how cute are we talking here?"
"Buffy."
"Joke, kidding."
"I gathered."
"How are you feeling?"
"Actually pretty good. Little achy but better than I have for a long long time." Unconsciously, he squeezed her a little tighter.
"I think maybe it's a good night for a little group bonding?"
"Meaning?"
"I call Will, Oz, and Xander, have them clear the shelves at the local Blockbuster on their way over. We order enough pizza to feed a small third world nation." She looked up and he was smiling brightly. "Feel up to it?"
"I do indeed. Let me go upstairs and change into something a little more pizza oriented." He released her and started up the stairs. "Tell Willow no Titanic again, Xander no Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Oz no Casablanca."
"Spoil their fun."
"I'm the old guy remember? It's my job." He disappeared into his bedroom. Buffy picked up the phone's handset from its cradle, held it against her chest for a moment, and took a deep breath; just happy to have another boring gang video night with all members accounted for.
The End