A Time For Goodbyes

by: Amy

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"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under Heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1

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I walked into the room slowly, carefully, being as quiet as possible. When I saw him lying there, my eyes filled with unbidden tears and I stepped up to his bed to take his hand gently in mine. His eyes fluttered, but he didn't wake. His breathing was slow and steady, and his heartbeat on the monitor was the only noise other than my own ragged breathing.

This man who I trusted more than I trusted myself was going to die. This man who had taken care of me or so long was going to leave and never come back. This man who I loved more than I had thought it was possible to love someone was going to close his eyes someday soon and not open them again.

I let my tears go.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I whispered as I laid my head down next to him. The hospital sheet was crisp and warm against my cheek and already soaking up the tears from my weeping. He would never know how much I had loved him; how much I would always love him. He would never be able to understand what an integral part of my soul he had become. Could I burden his heart with that knowledge at this point? Could I live with myself if I didn't?

Could I live with myself even if I did?

I had no way of knowing, no way I could find out without telling him. I wasn't sure I could do that. What if he looked into my eyes and told me it would be best if I didn't come back? What if he didn't look into my eyes at all?

His hand stirred in mine and I lifted my tearstained face up. His eyes opened and he did in fact lock those beautiful green-gray eyes with my own. Such clarity, such an open gaze for someone who... I shook the thought out of my head, angry at myself for even allowing myself to think it.

"Willow?" he asked, his voice just as steady as it had been for all the years he had been healthy. That voice, that wonderfully rich, warm voice filled my stomach with something that I couldn't place and made chills skitter down my spine. I squeezed his hand.

"Are you okay, Giles? Is there anything I can get for you?" I wanted him to tell me to leave if he didn't want me there... I wanted none of this to be happening. He licked his lips and looked thoughtfully at me for a moment.

"No. Just don't leave." I looked at him, surprised, and he continued, a ghost of a smile flickering over his lips. "How long have we known each other, Willow?"

I paused, thinking. "Almost ten years."

The warm, dry grip of his palm became tighter. "Well. We certainly have been through a lot together, haven't we?" His smile grew into something akin to a devilish grin and I smiled back at him, blinking back the tears that continued invading my eyes.

"Yes. Everything that people can go through together, we've been through."

I didn't mention Jenny's death, or Buffy's. I didn't mention the countless hours we had cried together. I didn't mention me comforting him after Jenny died, him comforting me after Xander got married and each of us comforting each other at Buffy's funeral. I thought of the endless nights we talked in the quiet of the library, trying to find something that was almost impossible to find. I thought of the first time I heard that cultured, English voice calling out from his office. I thought of the first time I saw those smoky eyes.

I thought of when I realized I was in love with him.

He looked at me, worried that I was lost in my thoughts and I felt my face warming up as my blush started. "Willow..." He trailed off after breaking the silence and I looked at him questioningly.

"Giles?"

"I love you," he murmured hurriedly. "I don't expect you to say the same thing, that's far more than an old man who's leaving could wish to hear, but I wanted you to know."

I dropped his hand in shock and watched in dismay as his eyes brimmed with sudden, unshed tears. Taking his hand again, very deliberately, I held it tightly, running my thumb over the back of it. His mouth trembled and his eyes remained open as I leaned forward and touched my lips to his, sweeping them lightly before I pulled away.

"I wish I had known sooner," I said shakily. My heart was clenching in my chest and I didn't want Giles to see me tears but I couldn't help but let them go. He reached up with his free hand and wiped them away, remaining silent as I continued. "If I had known... Oh, God, Giles. There could have been so many things we could have been together. If I had just told you..." I stopped talking and looked down at our joined hands and allowed self-hatred to fill me. I loved this man. Why was it that had I never told him, thought to tell him, until he was barely holding on to life?

"Oh, Giles," I sighed. "I love you too."

Tears slipped down his pale cheeks, and his eyes brightened until they seemed lit with stars. I watched in awe as he struggled to sit and pulled me to him with a strength that should have been long gone.

As my head reached his chest and his hands found my hair, I cried with him like I had so many times in the past. I wouldn't have him anymore. The one person I needed, I wouldn't have. He just stroked my hair with his palm and I felt the tears fall onto my head from his eyes. We didn't say anything more. There was nothing more to be said.

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Hours later I watched him in silence again as he slept. His face, a face that had seen more war and hell than a thousand armies was relaxed and boyish and I found myself holding his hand roughly once again. This time he didn't stir.

And as the silence continued to reign, I stared into space, into nothing.

The End

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