|oreadno1 (oreadno1) wrote in willowgileslove,|
@ 2008-06-02 19:58:00
Summary: Willow helps Giles in the aftermath of Jenny's murder
Feedback: Pretty please. Constructive criticism is always welcome. If you want to flame me, well okay, I have cattle prods. And chainsaws.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters (if I did Willow would be with Giles where she belongs!); I just hijack them and take them out for a joyride every now and then. Also, I have no beta, so any and all mistakes are solely mine. And if Joss takes it in his head to sue me, then I'll give him my collection of musicals on DVD.
Author's Note: Thanks totoimhseachan for the help! You know what you did!
Giles stared blankly at the yellow police tape that blocked his door. Reining in all emotions the sight engendered, he tore it and opened the door to his apartment. Mentally trying to prepare himself for the remnants of Angelus' visit and the police search, he stepped across the threshold. What his eyes beheld startled him. There was no evidence of either intrusion. His living room was spotlessly clean. Senses immediately on the alert, he slowly moved through to look into the kitchen, but saw no one there. As he returned from checking the bathroom, he heard a soft, familiar voice.
Willow came down the stairs from his bedroom, holding a dustpan full of broken glass in one hand. Her other hand, however, was bleeding, probably from a piece of the glass. When she saw Giles, she nearly dropped the dustpan.
"Oh, Giles!" she exclaimed, "I didn't hear you come in!"
"I take it I have you to thank for this?" he gestured to the now-neat downstairs.
"Um, yeah," she blushed "I, uh, I didn't think...Well, I didn't want you to come home to..."
"It's quite alright, Willow," he interrupted, "I appreciate it."
He noticed she was holding her bleeding hand awkwardly, trying to avoid dripping blood on the floor or her clothes.
"Here now, let me fix that for you," he took the dustpan from her and led her to the kitchen counter, "Just wait there while I get some bandages from the bathroom."
He returned with bandages, antiseptic, and antbiotic cream. He held her hand under running water, flinching as she hissed in pain. Very gently, he cleaned the cut, which fortunately wasn't very deep, with antiseptic, then applied the ointment. Placing a gauze pad over the wound, he taped it securely.
"There. Should be good as new in a few days."
He ushered her out of the kitchen and she moved to sit on the couch. Trying very hard to appear normal, he offered her tea.
"That's okay, Giles, You don't have to..."
"Nonsense. Won't be but a moment."
He walked back into the kitchen and filled the kettle, setting it on the stove. With trembling hands, he set cups, sugar, creamer, and a plate of cookies on the tea tray. He tried desperately to convince himself that this was an ordinary day, but tears still filled his eyes. He couldn't control the images of Jenny's lifeless body on his bed which flitted through his mind. A low sob escaped him.
Unbeknownst to him, Willow had followed him, watching him. Seeing his tears, she moved to the bookcase where he kept his liquor. She knew alcohol wasn't an answer to his grief, but right now he needed the escape it would provide. Figuring the crystal decanter held his best Scotch, she poured a generous amount in a matching glass. She brought it and the decanter to the coffee table as he came in with the tea tray. He'd wiped his eyes, but they remained red and watery.
"I think you could use this more than tea."
He took the glass, smiled his gratitude at her perception and took a long draught.
Settling on the couch, she poured herself a cup of tea as he finished the Scotch. Taking the glass from him, she poured him another. He sipped this one slowly as she watched him with grave eyes. The alcohol was hitting him quicker than usual, lowering his guard. Tears again formed in his eyes, despite his best efforts. Before he could stop it, a sob tore itself from his throat. When he saw her compassionate eyes, he gave up the pretense and allowed the tears to run freely. She moved closer and pulled him into her arms, allowing him to soak her shirt as he clutched at her as though he was drowning. She held him, occasionally murmuring soothing words, offering him any comfort she could provide. As his tears dwindled, he pulled back to look at her. She gave him a solemn smile, continuing to hold his hands in hers.
"I'm sorry," he fumbled, embarrassed. He looked at her with weary, red-rimmed eyes.
"It's okay, Giles."
She observed the fatigue in his eyes.
"Maybe you should go lie down. Some sleep might do you some good."
His eyes flickered to the stairs leading to the loft, and the apprehension in them was unmistakable.
Realising the trepidation with which he now viewed his bedroom, she took his hand and gently tugged him to a standing position. She carefully guided him up the stairs.
Giles was shocked when he saw his bed. There were no traces of the havoc from before. Willow had even changed all his bedding.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"It's okay. Come on, now. Just lay down and close your eyes. You need the rest."
He took a step toward the bed, but shuddered at the idea of laying down on it. He couldn't get the picture of Jenny, positioned just exactly so by Angelus, staring at him with dead eyes, out of his head.
Willow understood his reticence. But she also knew he needed to do this; to reclaim a part of what had been taken from him. She moved to the bed and knelt on it, pulling him with her. He hesitated for a moment, then stiffly stretched out on it. Sensing his discomfort, she uncurled her legs and lay beside him. Tenderly, she took him in her arms and he clung to her. Tears once again spilled from his eyes and she whipered somforting words as she held him. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, but she remained wakeful, her resolute eyes watchful, guarding his sleep.