He's dying.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. If it was gonna happen at all, it was gonna be by one fatal mistake on the nightly patrols, or maybe an all-out, last stand against the Hellmouth's fury. Certainly not from something as terrifyingly mundane as pancreatic cancer.
I am humbled, but not surprised, that he came to me first, of all of us. I think he could tell that I knew something was up, and who better to confide in than me? In spite of the age difference, I think we have come to really understand each other, and he knows that I would die myself if I could change what was happening.
We were all concerned about his safety in the hospital, of course. Apparently word leaked out that the Slayer's Watcher was on his deathbed, and there were quite a few vamps who would have loved to bring him into the fold. I was wracking my brain trying to think of a way I could guard against this without moving into the hospital myself, and then I got a visit from an old 'friend'. Why he chose that particular moment to reappear again, I'll never know. He made about as much sense as he did the last time I spoke with him, but what I did get out of it was that he wanted to pay Giles some sort of tribute. I guess it was his way of apologizing for being so useless in the whole Acathla mess. I don't know what he did to keep the vamps away from the hospital, just that it was more effective than a mote of holy water. He tells me he will come back and check on things, but I'm not holding my breath.
The new watcher arrived three weeks ago. Thankfully, not that idiot, Wesley. Good old Giles; he surprised us all by fighting the council tooth and nail for the right to hand-pick his replacement. The new watcher's name is Ian Kane. He's about the same age as Wesley, but, fortunately, nothing like him. I was prepared to hate him on sight, but I have to say, Giles chose well. Like Giles, he's kind of a rebel in Watcher circles, but he's pretty sharp and I think he'll do whatever it takes to get the job done. He knows how incredibly hard the last few weeks have been on all of us, and he's been laying low unless we need him. I am grateful. It's bad enough knowing that Giles will never set foot in the library again, but even worse to know that someone else is there in his place. I like Ian, but every time I see him I realize what we're losing and the shattered remnants of my heart break one more time. The library is a place I just don't go anymore.
It's selfish and petty, but in the privacy of my thoughts I am screaming at the cold irony of the universe. It can't happen now, not after we have made it through so much. One betrayal after another, both his and mine, and somehow we found a way to put that behind us and remain friends. He won't say it, but I think he's finally forgiven me for all the pain I caused him last summer. It does little to erase the deep well of guilt in my own mind, but it has made our friendship stronger, and that means more to me than I can say.
I thought for sure that the whole thing with Faith was the end of us - the end of everything. When I came to him that night to apologize for my misguided attempts to help her, he simply gave me a quiet smile and said he understood. Not a single 'I told you so'. He must have known I didn't stand a chance, but he let me try anyway, in spite of the cost. He even tried to talk me out of feeling guilty about Faith's death, but we both know it will haunt me, just like the deaths of all the others I couldn't save.
The most heartbreaking thing of all, though, is knowing how much he loves us. All of us. Even me. I didn't realize the depth of that love until the night he gave me back the center of my universe. By then he knew he didn't have much time left, and it was his last gift. Somehow, he managed to put the past behind him, managed to forget that the same two people he was trying to help were each, in their own ways, responsible for the death of the woman he loved. I don't know how, but he did it, God bless him. We can be together now, my love and I, without fear and without reprisals. It may be just enough to help us deal with the overwhelming grief.
* * *
I walk past the nurses' station, past the visitors lounge and the faces of my friends--my family, if I must admit-- trying not to see their tear-streaked faces. I can't bear to look at Willow, she's been holding herself together through sheer will alone, and I'm afraid she's at the end of her self-control. I open the door slowly and peer in, to see my beautiful angel keeping a death watch.
"Hi."
"Hi." A small, tear-filled smile, a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
"Can I have a minute?" I say, trying to choke back the emotions that are flooding through me.
A moment of uncertainty, and then, "Sure. I'll go get some coffee."
The door closes and Giles and I are alone.
"Giles--" Damn. The tears start. I wasn't gonna do that, I swore.
He looks up at me with a face that is in pain but filled with an inner peace.
"Promise me something."
"Anything. You know that."
He takes my hand in his weak one, looking up at me with tired eyes.
"Take care of her. Watch over her. She needs you."
I could refuse him just as easily as I could take a stroll on a sunny afternoon. I stifle a sob and merely nod my head.
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