Title: Doing the Right Thing (1/1)
Author: Michele
Email: aka_m_1@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.SpikeNAngel.com
Rating: R (language)
Spoilers: Season 4 of BTVS, 'Hero' ep of Angel: TS Pairing: none
Summary: Giles always does the right thing for the right reason… doesn't he?
Distribution: Take it, it's yours.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the characters and premise used in creating this fic are not mine. If they were, I'd be a guy named Joss...
Note: Takes place a few days after the ‘Hero’ episode on Angel: TS. Giles POV

I don’t know why I was surprised about what has happened. But when the call came, I *was* surprised. I had built him up in my mind to be invincible; after all, he’d literally come back from hell in one piece and what could be worse than a hundred years in hell? I thought that once he left town, once I didn’t have to see that face or hear that voice day after day, that I would finally find some peace. Peace from the nightmares, night memories, really. Peace from that part of me that clamored to avenge all the wrongs done to myself and those I love. Jenny’s death was just the tip of the iceberg. Not that she would have wanted that from me, but *I* still want it. But I digress.

When the call came this afternoon, I was surprised. Cordelia was not making much sense, but I finally understood what she was saying. A friend had died. Died to save others. Died in Angel’s place. Or at least that's how Angel felt about it, and Angel had fallen apart. He’d tried to walk into the sun twice and Cordelia had barely been able to prevent him from succeeding.

That was yesterday.

Now, he had withdrawn from the world, silent, unmoving, not sleeping, not feeding, not responding to anything, just staring. I didn’t bother asking Cordelia why she had called me. I knew. Her contact with the others had been severed when she moved to L.A., but I still heard from her every so often, 'just to catch us up with recent events on the Hellmouth', she said. And I always make everything better and have all the answers, right? She’s mentioned this dead friend a few times, but not enough to make me think he was anything but an assistant that came and went when needed. But from her reaction, and Angel’s, he was something more.

At first I told her I wouldn’t, couldn't, come. Then she said 'please', that one word full of desperation and I relented, somewhat, telling her I would call her back in an hour with my decision. I didn’t even last that long, I was packing ten minutes after I’d hung up the phone. Spike wandered in to my room and I told him I was going to L.A. and why. He gave the response I expected; a snort, 'Stupid ponce', and wandered back downstairs where he’d been sleeping. He was back within five minutes; patting his pockets and telling me he was ready when I was. The only explanation he would give for accompanying me was, “I owe him one.” I didn’t ask what he meant and he didn’t explain.

Calling Cordelia back took three attempts on my part. Dialing the final number without hanging up again was accomplished only because Spike was staring at me, almost daring me to back out. Once I told Cordelia I would be there a few hours after sunset, her sobs of relief tore at my heart. That she could be grateful that it was *me* coming to help showed just how well I had succeeded in hiding my feelings from all of them. If they’d understood, she’d be more afraid I would stake him while he was defenseless.

Oh, I'd had a few chances before, but this time Buffy would not be there with that soft look on her face every time she glanced his way. I knew that I wouldn't be able to do it, that this was another opportunity that I would have to let pass me by lest Buffy discover my involvement. But to actually *help* him... it was my own private hell.

Spike was so gracious to remind me that my car would not make it to L.A. and back, so I had to go rent a car. This was accomplished quickly even though I tried to make it take as long as possible. I couldn’t make myself feel guilty about him suffering for a few more hours. When I returned, Spike was pacing furiously, angry that I had taken so long. I was confused at his attitude, but once again didn’t question it.

After his dash to the car, we were off. I took the longest way possible out of town, driving as slowly as possible. Spike’s curses soon penetrated my thoughts and, finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked him why he was so anxious to get to L.A. and ease Angel’s suffering. His answer floored me. He said, "Because he *isn’t* suffering right now, you pillock."

I drove faster after that. I realized what he’d said was true. Angel was in a place with no guilt, no grief, no regrets… and no suffering. Once he’d failed to destroy himself, he retreated from this world and made one of his own, beyond any suffering. But Giles was coming to make it all better… better for Giles, that is. Staking him would not avenge Jenny or ease my night terrors. Snapping him out of his self-induced retreat from his mental torments would be the worst possible thing I could ever do to him. Maybe there was a little justice in the world, after all.

The others would assume I helped him because it was the right thing to do. Giles the forgiving, Giles the always proper and correct, Giles the sexless, emotionless father figure that always made things right with the world. Why wouldn’t it be right for me to help Angel?

It must have been the horrible smile I could feel creeping across my face that caused Spike to say, "Angelus would be very proud of you."

THE END