Chapter Twenty-Two

Faith wiped the sweat from her forehead as she left the gym. A fully-loaded gym right in the house—B. had come up in the world. Of course, she’d never really been down in it, but still. No cleaning some gym slob’s sweat off the elliptical machine for her.

Faith didn’t hear any conversation as she approached the library. Typical; they were both geeks at heart—probably had their noses in a book. Wood was like Giles would have been if Giles had taken a different route home from school one day. If Wood’s mother hadn’t been a Slayer, he would have been all Giles.

She didn’t bother knocking—half the time Wood didn’t hear her when she knocked anyway, he was so deep in a book. Besides, who knocked in a library? All people did in a library was read, not get nasty or anything.

Yeah, nothing good ever happened in a library, she thought, snickering to herself as she opened the door. It took her a moment to recognize what she was seeing: Wood on his knees, gasping and trying to pry Giles’s hands from around his neck. Then she was across the room, knocking Giles away. Giles struck the wall with a sickening crack, but Faith didn’t notice. She dropped down beside Wood, who’d slumped to the floor. He was alive, but struggling for breath, and his eyes were darting around like a crazy person’s. Almost getting killed had a way of doing that to you.

“You okay?” Faith demanded roughly. She winced when she heard how sharp her voice was; she’d never been good at the whole tenderness thing. Thank god she was great at the ass-kicking.

Wood opened his mouth and tried to answer, but was only able to make a painful-sounding hiss. He shut his mouth with a snap, frustration and residual panic clear on his face. Finally he just shook his head.

No. No, he wasn’t okay.

~*~*~*~

It was Dawn who found them. Wood on the floor, Faith bending over him, Giles crumpled and still by the wall.

Dawn’s screams brought the others.

Buffy’s first thought, when she saw the tableau, was that it had been Faith. When the choices were a Watcher, a kinda-sorta Watcher, and a girl who occasionally went all psycho killer, it was a pretty reasonable first thought, and Buffy wouldn’t apologize for thinking it. She wouldn’t be surprised if the others had thought the same thing.

Still, she was kind of relieved that Wood had gasped that Giles had attacked him before anyone had a chance to say anything they might regret.

Except for the part about how it was Giles who’d attacked. That part was like a relief, only the exact opposite.

Buffy knelt beside Giles and gently touched the purple blotch on his forehead. Why would Giles attack anyone, least of all Wood? He liked Wood. They both lived for research and the good fight and that kind of thing. And they both hated Spike. Talk about your awesome bonding material.

“Why?” she finally said to the dazed group.

The others turned to look at her. “Why would Giles attack him?”

Nobody could come up with an answer.

“It was the First,” rasped Wood, involuntarily pressing a hand to his throat. The others looked at him dubiously.

“The First wasn’t corporeal,” Willow pointed out.

“But didn’t he possess Caleb?” protested Dawn, pleased that her voice was almost steady.

Buffy shook her head. “No, he was just the First’s—servant, or priest, or president of his evil fan club or something.”

“You think Giles is the new Caleb?” asked Faith skeptically, looking past Wood to Buffy.

Buffy didn’t know how to answer. Sudden strength, homicidal instincts? Very un-Giles. But still—

“I got it!” The others swung to Xander, who nodded excitedly.“The thaumogenesis demon possessed him, same as it did me and Dawn.”

“No,” said Wood quietly. “It knew things. Things only the First could know.”

“Like what?” Andrew asked quietly.

Wood looked at him coldly and didn’t answer, but Andrew didn’t quail the way they all probably expected him to. Because he’d dealt with the First more than any of them, and he knew Mr. Giles was too smart to do what it wanted. “Mr. Giles wouldn’t help the First,” he said. His voice was a little shaky at the beginning, but it was firm by the end.

Buffy looked at him keenly before returning her gaze to her old mentor. He’d disappointed her in ways she’d never imagined back when she was a spoiled teenager. Drugged her, doubted her, left her when she needed him desperately.

And been her father when her own had been indifferent, helped plan her mother’s funeral, watched after Dawn after she’d died, risked his life for hers countless times.

“Andrew’s right,” she said, touching Giles’s face gently. “Maybe it was the First, but Giles wasn’t cooperating with it. Somehow it did this to him. Somebody did this to him. The First can’t do this without somebody helping him. He’s found himself a new Caleb.”

“So we have to find out who’s behind it,” Faith pointed out. As if it would be simple.

“Later. Now we have to take care of Giles. Xander?”

Xander moved to the other side of Giles and shuddered. A dark bruise bloomed across Giles’s forehead, and the ugly line of his collarbone suggested a break.

Whatever it was, this thing wasn’t fooling around.

~*~*~*~

“Does your father have a history of seizures?”

“No,” Buffy said, shaking her head.

The doctor frowned. “Does he drink?”

“No...ot much,” Buffy hedged.

“And you didn’t hear him fall, just found him at the bottom of the stairs?”

Buffy nodded miserably. This was why she was so glad she had the Slayer super-healing package working for her; otherwise she’d constantly be giving doctors lame excuses. God, she was a crappy liar. “We didn’t hear anything,” she assured him, a little relieved she didn’t have to lie about that one.

The doctor stared at her without comment, and Buffy began to feel a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t like it was her fault! And the doctor was looking at her as if he were thinking she did something to Giles.

“Oh, the epilepsy!” said Willow suddenly, drawing their attention. “Dad hasn’t had a seizure in so long we’d kind of forgotten about them. I mean, I don’t even know if he’s still taking his medication. We’re, uh … bad daughters.”

The doctor grunted and made a notation on Giles’s chart. Without another word to Willow or Buffy he resumed his examination. It probably would have been easier if Giles were actually conscious.

Buffy moved over to the side of the examination room and motioned to Willow to follow. It would have been nice to allow Giles some privacy for the exam, but if the First was controlling him she didn’t want to leave him alone with the doctor. He might try get away, to kill the doctor, and if he had almost killed Wood, the doctor had no chance. If Faith hadn’t gotten there in time, Wood would be dead.

God, what if Faith had decided to spend some more time on the Stairmaster, and it had been Dawn who walked in on them?

“I don’t know, Buffy. This doesn’t seem like the First to me,” Willow murmured. “I mean, why would he do it?”

“Uh, I’m the Slayer? He likes to mess with me. It’s his thing.”

Willow touched her arm. “Buffy, you’re not the Slayer, you’re a Slayer. And I think he would have an easier time with any of the other Slayers, since they’re all brand-new. Well, except for Faith, she’s just—” a recovering crazy person, Willow finished to herself. No need to say it; she knew she had Faith issues. “They’re just learning to deal with this stuff, while you’ve been doing it for so long. If it really wants to wreak some quality havoc, why did it choose you?”

“Because we’re old friends?” suggested Buffy caustically. Willow gave her a dry look, and Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “It’s like there’s a purpose here—a direction. It’s not random.”

Willow sighed and looked at Giles, so still in the bed. “No, it’s not.”

~*~*~*~

“You’re an idiot,” Jenny said, her voice flat with contempt.

Ethan ignored her. It was better that way sometimes. Most of the time, really.

Of course, when she wanted to gain his attention, she was difficult to ignore. And then she did have that little temper….

“You never know when to stop. This is how you get caught. Every. Single. Time.”

“It won’t hurt just to have a look,” argued Ethan glancing at her over in the passenger seat. Wouldn’t hurt to lay on the charm a little. Wasn’t like the First had it in the last few thousand years; just a little should be plenty.

“Won’t it?”

“I don’t see what—”

“You have no idea what you’re walking into,” Jenny said scornfully. “Things haven’t—”

“My god, will you give it a rest?” snapped Ethan, thoroughly sick of her constant nagging. Sometimes he wondered if he really wanted to live the rest of his life listening to this shrike—if he’d wanted a damned harridan he would have gotten married, wouldn’t he? Before she’d had power beyond measure, but now he was stuck kowtowing to her with no return on his investment at all. If she wasn’t good for amusement, she wasn’t good for much of anything these days. Now all she could do were parlor tricks.

“You think?” she asked icily, her voice right next to his ear.

He yelped, almost swerving into the next lane before hastily correcting his driving so as not to die. “Don’t do that!”

“Have it your way,” she said, voice sugary as she settled back into her seat. “This is an excellent plan, very well thought out, and sure to end well.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as usual, she was too quick. “But not for you.”

Ethan ignored her. She’d had her time, and look what had happened.

It was really for the best that he was in the driver’s seat now.

~*~*~*~

Buffy set the glass of water on the nightstand and watched as Giles dutifully swallowed the sleeping pill the doctor had prescribed. She doubted he needed it; he was still pretty groggy. She’d just been relieved when he’d regained consciousness and seemed like standard-issue Giles.

“He doesn’t remember anything?” Xander asked softly.

Buffy shook her head. “No. But the doctor said that’s consistent with a concussion.”

“But he didn’t want to keep him overnight?”

“He did a bunch of tests and said it should be okay to let him come home, but to wake him every few hours to check his responses.”

They watched as the pill and exhaustion combined to overtake Giles and he drifted off to sleep, his breathing slow and steady.

Giles waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before opening his eyes and removing the sleeping tablet from under his tongue. Insensibility was the absolute last thing he needed at the moment—although if offered he wouldn’t have refused a glass of brandy.

He had gone berserk, the others told him. Said things that indicated he was possessed by the First. Struck Faith. Nearly killed Wood.

He remembered none of it.

How had he come to this? He’d always been so careful, the last two decades. His youth had taught him well not to meddle with unknowable forces.

And now, they seemed to be seeking him out.

~*~*~*~

“I can’t believe you had Cordelia in our room.”

Xander froze, his shirt halfway off. “This was never our room,” he pointed out carefully, pulling his shirt off and tossing it towards a chair. He missed.

“Semantics,” Anya sniffed, wandering over to pick up the shirt. She fussed with it a moment.

“So do you … know what happened tonight? With Giles?”

“Is this a transparent attempt to change the subject? If so, I don’t appreciate it. And when I say is this a transparent attempt, what I mean is this is a transparent attempt, so stop it right now.”

“Jesus, this is more important than us!” he exploded.

She froze for a moment, then turned to give him a frosty stare. “Excuse me, what did you say?”

“Give it a rest,” Xander said hopelessly, crawling into bed and trying to tune her out. She wouldn’t stop talking.

She just wouldn’t stop.

~*~*~*~

Andrew heard Xander’s voice as he crept past his room, but resisted the temptation to press his ear to the door. It would be better for the both of them if Andrew didn’t try to comfort him in his grief—those things just led to awkwardness afterward. At least that’s what he’d been told.

The year before, the First had targeted him, promised him things, tricked him. Made him think he was strong and in control, when it only wanted him because he was weak. Probably it chose him instead of Jonathan because it knew Jonathan would be strong enough to say no.

But Andrew went along with it. The seal had opened because he was weak, and later the seal had closed because he was weak.

But Mr. Giles wasn’t weak.

He was one of them now, a Scooby. Just like Jonathan had dreamed of. But Jonathan wasn’t around to enjoy it, because of the First. The way the First could get to you—the others didn’t understand. No one could if they hadn’t felt something older than the Pyramids, maybe older than the dirt it was built from, crawl around in their souls and make itself at home. They couldn’t know how terrifying it was.

Or how exhilarating.

Andrew eased opened the door to Giles’s room. He was clumsy sometimes, but he could be quiet when he had to. If he hadn’t, Tucker would have been all over his flying monkeys and used them as hellhound chow, and Andrew would never have let that happen to his babies.

Giles didn’t stir as Andrew knelt beside the bed. He was almost as close to the First, to its unbelievable power, as he had been the year before, close enough to touch Giles and feel the rush of his borrowed power. Close enough to smother him and make sure the First stopped tormenting them.

Andrew shrank back. That was … crazy. Killing Giles wouldn’t destroy the First any more than killing the Bringers had. If the First was still in him, a big if, it would just abandon Giles before he died, and disappear into the ether or whatever until it found a new servant. And he made a good argument, so it wasn’t like that would take long.

And then the whole thing would start all over again.