Endings: Giles' Finale: Giles' Finale
by Daevanus
*December 30,1999 ~ late afternoon*
It was a somber gathering. The three men stood around Willow’s hospital bed, each face stricken with pain and worry. Oz held Willow’s IV laden hand, trying to impart Willow with some of his strength. Giles, his head bandaged, tried to think through the haze of pains both physical and emotional. Xander, the only one who witnessed Buffy’s death, was dealing with a pain quite apart from the other two.
“Where’s Buffy?” Giles asked as he collapsed into a nearby chair, his legs no longer able to support his weight. Oz looked up to Xander expectantly.
For the first time in his life, Xander didn’t hesitate or try to weasel his way out. He told them straight out what he saw.
“Giles, Oz. Buffy’s dead.” He saw the blood drain from both of their faces. Oz dropped to one knee by Willow’s bedside while Giles looked like he would be sick from his grief. “And that’s not all,” he continued after taking a deep breath. “I don’t know Angelus that well, but I’m guessing that he’s turned Buffy.”
Giles wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and nodded. “Yes, yes...that’s what Angelus would do.” The Watcher’s voice seemed far away, almost as if his mind and soul had gone and left his body behind.
Oz seemed merely dumbstruck. No words came from his mouth, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. Xander looked at the clock. Damn, he thought, two hours until nightfall. Realizing that they had to do something before nightfall brought both Angelus and the vampire Buffy, he steeled himself for what he had to do.
Slapping Giles across the face, Xander whispered fiercely to the stunned Watcher. “Listen, we have to do something. Go to your house and uninvite Angel and Buffy before nightfall. If we don’t we’re all dead.”
Giles looked at Xander with a newfound respect. “Of course,” he said, standing up and holding his head. “However, next time don’t slap the man with the head injury.”
Nodding sheepishly, he went with the Watcher to sign the release forms for Willow. He hoped they had enough time to protect themselves before nightfall.
*Dusk, the same day*
Xander collapsed heavily onto Giles’ couch. They had spent the last two hours casting spells and barring the windows to protect themselves from any attack that night. Willow was resting comfortably in Giles’ spare bedroom with Oz sitting by her side. She had woken up and seemed better, though still weak.
Giles was sitting in his armchair, barely awake. The Slayer’s death was a heavy blow to Giles, who still thought of her as a daughter. It’s going to be a hard few days for all of us, Xander thought. We’ll have to hunt Buffy down. Somehow, the prospect of hunting the vampire that was once his friend didn’t bother him much. Have I grown that cold? he wondered. A knock at the door interrupted his reverie.
Xander and Giles both leapt to their feet and grabbed weapons that were readily available. Giles checked the pull on his crossbow before loading it while Xander lifted a sword from the counter. They both walked over to the door as a knock sounded a second time. With Giles covering him, Xander opened the door.
Unsurprisingly, Buffy and Angelus were at the door. Buffy held a young boy by the throat before her, blocking any shot Giles might have had to her heart. Angelus stood behind Buffy, using her as a shield.
“What do you want?” Giles asked, his voice as steady as his aim.
“I just wanted to say I’m leaving. I got what I want,” Angelus said as he put a possessive hand on Buffy’s shoulder.
As the two vampires walked away, Xander spoke up. “I know both of you better than that. You’ll come after us soon enough.”
“What makes you say that?” Buffy asked innocently. Xander’s silence was as much of an answer as she would get.
Both vampires walked away into the deepening night.
*March 15, 2000 ~ early afternoon*
He looked at the map again, memorizing each location he had marked on it. By the dates scrawled near each mark, he could clearly follow the route of the two vampires. Buffy and Angelus. Together they were causing more destruction than Angelus alone had caused before his curse. Apparently Buffy was just as evil as her sire and lover. Each body was ruthlessly mauled, in most cases leaving no trace of identity on the poor soul.
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Sighing, he turned and walked over to his weapons case. He had no intention of letting this go any further. It was his duty to put Buffy’s soul to rest. His duty to the council, and to Buffy’s memory.
Xander walked into the library, and caught Giles completely unaware. The Watcher nearly jumped out of his skin by the unexpected visitor.
“Relax Giles, it’s only me,” Xander said. Giles noted again how much he had changed, even now that he knew exactly what Xander was. Giles shook his head again in utter disbelief.
“What is it now?” Xander asked, concern evident on his face as he approached Giles.
“Nothing Xander,” Giles replied, putting his glasses back on. “Nothing at all.”
“Bullshit,” Xander said. “You never get this worked up over nothing.” The young man looked at Giles again for a moment. “You’re going after Buffy and Angelus.”
Giles didn’t even try to deny Xander’s conclusion. Instead, the Watcher walked over to his weapon’s case and began to pull out some of his heavier weaponry. A longsword, two crosses, a crossbow with a case of bolts, plenty of holy water, and a handful of stakes .
“You’re not going alone,” Xander stated.
“I’m not letting anyone else be harmed by Buffy and Angelus,” Giles said calmly. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Willow and Oz about this.”
“You know I can’t let you go alone,” Xander said softly. “You’ll just be throwing your life away.”
Giles sighed, not wanting to deal with a teenage boy at this time. He went to push past Xander, but was surprised when Xander stopped him.
“You need help if you’re going to win,” he began, holding up a hand to forestall any arguement. “Willow can help you by enchanting your sword with a new spell she has, I can keep you posted from here on their movements, and Oz can help you in the fight.” When Giles began to argue, Xander cut him off quickly. “Oz has complete control over his werewolf-ness. He’s the only one who would be any use to you in a fight. And admit it, two on one isn’t quite fair.”
Giles sighed. It was hard to argue with someone when they were absolutely correct. “Alright Xander,” he said. “Go get them. I want to finish this as soon as possible.” To ease my aching heart.
*An hour later*
Xander flipped through a watcher’s diary again, trying to make time pass. Willow was chanting in some obscure, ancient language, enchanting the sword Giles intended to use against Angelus and Buffy. Oz was loading his van with extra gas, food and spare weapons. And he, super-Xander, read a book.
“I’m still the only one without a power,” he grumbled, grabbing a different diary. Glancing at the cover, he noted that this one was from 1497-1523. Flipping through the book, he stopped suddenly when he found something that he didn’t expect to see. His name.
“Uh, Giles,” Xander said, raising his voice to make himself heard.
“What is it Xander?” Giles asked, walking over to him, carrying a lightweight suit of chainmail armor.
“Read this and you tell me,” Xander said, handing the diary to Giles and pointing out the passage.
“...was sure that the Slayer was doomed, until a man joined the fight and aided her. He later introduced himself as Sir Alexander Harris..” Giles eyes nearly popped out of his head. Quickly scanning the next few sentences, he found something that he needed to look up. Dropping the diary and chainmail, he sprinted to the stacks. Xander picked up the diary and looked at the rest of the passage.
“..who claimed to be a ‘lodestone paladin. Unsure of what that meant, I simply gave him my thanks before taking the Slayer back to the monestary to help her healing. Xander pondered the meaning of the passage for a few moments. Suddenly, he picked up a dictionary, ‘Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary’. For a moment he almost called Willow over to remind him how to use it, but realized the words were in alphabetical order. Chuckling, he looked up the first word, lodestone.
Lodestone, n 1: Magnetite possesing polarity 2: something that strongly attracts.
Frowning, he then looked up paladin.
Paladin, n 1: a champion of a medieval prince 2: an outstanding protaganist of a cause.
Giles returned a short moment later, holding an ancient book. “I’m not sure what a lodestone paladin is,” he began before Xander cut him of.
“It’s some kind of attracting knight or champion,” Xander said, holding up the dictionary. “Does that help.”
The surprise on Giles’s face was evident. “Yes, yes it does.” Flipping to the back of the book, Giles read a passage.
“A Purifier, also called a lodestone paladin, draws the essences of the demons he or she kills and holds them within, usually without harm. It has been suggested that a purifier somehow destroys the essences upon death, or somehow renders them inert. Most times a purifier gains abilities as they slay more demons. Some observed powers are enhanced strenght and speed, ability to heal wounds by laying on hands, an aura of protection, stronger resistance to diseases, and, in the case of Sir Lancelot, magical abilities. There seems to be very few purifiers at any given time, and the calling, as well as certian abilities, is passed on by blood. A few families that have been exhibited purifiers are...” Here Giles merely scaned the names. “The name ‘Harris’ is here,” Giles said. “You may be a purifier.”
“Wow,” Xander said, stunned.
Oz walked into the library from the door through the stacks. “All loaded up,” he said, gingling his keys. “Willow almost done?”
Giles nodded to him before turning back to Xander. “Listen to me. I’m going to give you some books to read. Stay in the library and read them.”
Xander nodded as Giles walked to the stacks, pulling books from the shelves as he went. By the time he finished about fifteen minutes later, there was a good sized stack infront of Xander. Sighing, the young man picked up the first book and began reading.
Willow walked out of Giles’s office a few moments later, holding the sword before her. She handed it to Giles, who swung it a few times. Nodding, he turned to Oz.
“It’s time.”
*Two hour later, as dusk falls*
Xander rubbed his eyes as he finished his fifth book. The reading had been totally engrossing, especially since could help him be useful to the group. As he was reaching for the sixth book, the phone rang.
“Hello,” he said, reaching to his left and picking up the phone.
“Xander,” came the voice over the phone, a voice so painfully familiar.
“Buffy,” he choked out, leaning back heavily into the chair.
“Yup,” she said, giggling softly on the other end. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Maybe,” he said softly, rising from his seat and looking around cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I sent some friends to play,” she said evilly. “I hope Giles has worked on his fighting, ‘cause Oz won’t be able to handle these guys by himself.”
“That’s kinda hard, considering neither of them are here,” Xander said, gripping a cross and lightly rapping on the door to Giles’s office, were Willow was catching a few hours of sleep. She came out almost immediately, a cross in one hand and a stake in the other. Seeing Xander on the phone, she almost put them down, until he shook his head and showed her the cross he held.
“Well then,” Buffy said with a sigh. “I guess you and Willow get to die tonight.” With that she hung up.
Reacting quickly, Xander hurried over to the weapons case and pulled a sword out. Hacking at the air experimentally, he turned to Willow.
“We better get outta here,” he began. “Buffy sent some of her new friends.”
“Not good,” Willow said, pointing to the stacks. Spinning quickly, Xander saw four vampires walk out from behind book cases, each one heavily muscled and wearing their faces.
“Shit!” Xander exclaimed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check the main entrance. Five vampires blocked the door.
“Time to play,” one of the vampires, who obviously used to be a biker, said as he and his fellows advanced upon Willow and Xander.
Xander heard Willow begin to chant and shifted his balance to the balls of his feet while holding the sword low and in front of him. Mentally tiping his hat to Giles for teaching him how to hold a sword, he rushed the closest of the vampires, a blond man with a vicious scar down the left side of his face.
Reacting as he would in life, the vampire tried to avoid being disembowled by Xander’s first slash by thrusting his ass back and his head forward. Before he realized his mistake, Xander reversed the momentum of his swing and lopped of the vampire’s head. One down, Xander counted. He heard Willow’s chanting suddenly escalate and knew her spell was taking effect. The vampires were slowing down, their movements becomming more stiff. Once again he thanked Giles, this time for letting Willow read the ancient spellbooks he kept locked in his safe. They were proving useful.
Xander moved quickly from vampire to vampire. His cuts were mostly aimed at heads and necks, but he would cut the legs or arms of vampires that dodge his killing blows. Within five minutes, six of the eleven vampires were dead, and three wouldn’t move anytime soon. As for the other two...
Xander spun to see the two vampires attack Willow. The first took the stake she wielded in the shoulder, while the other raked his claws down her back. She cried out in pain and tried to turn to face her attacker, but the otherone slashed her across the stomach with his claws. She fell to her knees as the two vampires closed in for the kill.
They never saw Xander comming. Like an avenging angel, he knocked them away from Willow and began cutting them to pieces. They would live for a time, for he never seperated the heads from the necks. But they weren’t going anywere. They were in multiple pieces.
Xander dropped the sword and fell to his knees beside Willow. He saw the blood pouring from the deep cuts and knew that she would die from bloodloss long before any outside help arrived. He placed his hands on her wounds, vainly trying to stem the crimson tide.
a voice in his head whispered.
“How?” he asked simply.
the voice answered.
“That is no choice,” Xander whispered. “You say that duty would bind me? Duty forces my choice here as well.” With that, Xander felt an energy course down his arms, warm and tingling.
He watched in amazement as some of Willow’s injuries mended themselves. The bloodflow slowed and finally stopped. Although she was still seriously wounded, she was in no danger of dying. Yet what surprised Xander the most was how his hands glowed with a faint bluish light.
the voice said softly.
Xander lifted Willow as she began to stir. He carried her home, contemplating the voice he had heard.
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