TITLE: The Man She Needs
AUTHOR: tkw97
RATING: PG-13 for death
SPOILERS: Set during the Gift.
PAIRING: None
FEEDBACK: tkw97@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION: If you want anything of mine, just ask.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine in any way, shape or form.
SUMMARY: The thoughts that run through Giles’ head as he kills Ben.
Thanks to Shelley for the quick beta.
He wondered when he’d become this man, the kind of man who could snuff the life out of another human being without so much as blinking an eye. Giles tightened his grip on Ben’s face as the younger man struggled to shake him off. The effort was futile however, and he could see the panic in the eyes of his victim as he acknowledged the fact. Beaten, bloodied and defeated, the young doctor was now going to lose his life to the man he had saved mere days earlier. There was probably an irony to be found there if one could be bothered to look. He couldn’t at the moment.
As the thrashing underneath him grew weaker, Giles’ face remained impassive. Was this the kind of man his father had been? Someone willing to commit any act as long as the end justified it? Could his father have stood in the Magic Box and insisted on discussing the murder of an innocent teenager? He had hated the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he would not apologise for them or try and take them back. It needed to be said, and he was the one who would say or do the things that others couldn’t. Or shouldn’t have to.
Rupert had always hated his father’s coldness, especially as a young boy. His father never had time to kick the football around in the yard or to take him down to the green to watch cricket on the weekends. Never once did they read a storybook together or build a model aeroplane. The most interest his father ever showed in him was when he brought home his report card at the end of each semester.
Rupert Giles always excelled at school. He had an inquisitive mind coupled with a near photographic memory, and this resulted in constant top marks. But it was never enough to satisfy his father.
“A ninety one in chemistry, Rupert? You will need to spend more time there next semester.”
“You came fifth in the class for algebra, Rupert. What were those other four boys doing that you weren’t?”
“Nothing less than the very best is satisfactory.”
‘Would this satisfy my father?’ he wondered as Ben’s struggles became sporadic. ‘Was this the man he wanted me to be as he delivered those lectures on the duty of a Watcher?’
He remembered one Christmas Eve in his parents’ house, when he was still trying to regain some face after his disastrous foray into the dark arts and his useless little rebellion against his destiny. His father had cleaned up that mess and seemingly had decided to never let him forget it.
“You’re sending her out tonight?” he had asked his father, in disbelief. “It’s Christmas Eve, for goodness sakes. And it’s snowing.”
“The forces of evil do not observe national holidays, Rupert. She is the Slayer and it is her duty, regardless of the weather,” came the reply, devoid of any emotion other than the very obvious annoyance.
He had watched that tiny slip of a girl bundle herself up in her coat and scarf and slide stakes into her pocket. She had pulled on a pair of gloves and tugged a hat down over her hair. Then she had strapped a short sword to her side and walked out the front door into the biting cold. And never once had he seen his father’s face change expression. He had turned on the older man once the door was shut, but hadn’t been able to open his mouth in time before his father spoke.
“She does what she must. As do I. Not all of us have the luxury of turning our backs on destiny and trying to sink into oblivion. There are things that must be done by a few so that the many can continue to live their lives in blissful ignorance. There is no room for qualms or pity, Rupert, only duty.”
With that, his father had exited the room and left him seething with anger. And he had vowed then and there never to be a man like that. He would never be a man who would put duty before human emotion.
Yet here he was, a lifeless body under him and his face without a flicker of emotion. He wanted to feel something, but he couldn’t. This was what needed to be done. Buffy couldn’t do it and he would never have asked it of her. Regardless of what she thought, he would never have asked her to take Dawn’s life either. She was a hero; that was her role to fulfill.
He was not a hero. He never pretended to be. He was merely a man who did what needed to be done. He was not the man he thought he was, but he wasn’t his father either. For his father was willing to sacrifice his slayer, but Rupert Giles was willing to sacrifice everything *except* his slayer. Even himself.
When he looked down into his soul, to see the man he really was, all he could see was her. And that was his answer.
He was the man she needed him to be.
END