Endings: Giles’s Finale

March 18, 2000 2:30 AM

They had been taking turns driving the car. Giles usually drove during the night, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Oz didn’t need to prepare. Giles believe he was a true lycanthrope, a werewolf that could, eventually, assume lupine characteristics at will. Ever since the night of Angelus’s attack, Oz had gained more and more control over his changes. No longer was he affected by the moon, though he still felt the moon’s pull every time it was full.

Giles focused on the road ahead of him. According to Xander, Buffy and Angelus were hiding in a small town in southern Oregon. Normally Giles would have asked for Willow’s opinion, but with her in the hospital and Xander’s recent maturity, he took the information at face value.

Turning his thoughts to the attack at the library, he wondered how many vampires he and Oz would face before they reached Buffy and Angelus. They could have quite a few minions by now. Angelus wasn’t one to create numerous vampires, but he had no clue as to how Buffy would act as a vampire. Hopefully she followed her sire’s tendencies. It would cut down on the number of fatalities.

As he took the offramp to the town, who’s name he didn’t recall or care about, he reached over and shook Oz gently. It was time to hunt.

Meanwhile, in Sunnydale

Xander paced his room like a caged animal. He wanted to help Giles and Oz hunt down the two vamps, but he couldn’t leave Sunnydale with only Willow to deal with the resident evil things.

“I hate this!” Xander said as he continued to pace. He was relieved when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Xander? It’s Willow,” came the voice from the other end.

“What’s up?” Xander replied.

“My mother just picked me up from the hospital,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know I was home.”

“That’s good,” Xander said. “It’s much safer for you in your own home.”

“Xander,” Willow said, “You need to go after them.”

“Yea, I know,” he said.

“Go.”

He hung up the phone and grabbed the bags he had packed days ago. A few changes of clothing, spare crosses, stakes, and holy water. He grabbed the car keys from the peg on the wall and his jacket from the back of his chair. He sprinted to the car, started the engine, and floored it.

Two days later, Oregon

Oz and Giles stalked the two vampires cautiously. They were planing, waiting, hoping for a moment of weakness that they could exploit. So far, Angelus and Buffy had been very good at setting guards over their resting spots, and were always accompanied by at least three other vampires.

It had been two very rough days for the Watcher. To know that Buffy, his charge, had been turned into a vampire was one thing. To actually see her kill and feast upon innocent people was another. Slowly the Watcher’s heart grew cold and hard. His eyes took on a predatory gleam that Oz had never seen before. He had heard the stories of Giles’s youth, and now he understood. The Ripper was back.

“We attack tomorrow night,” Giles said, his voice flat and cold.

Oz nodded and went back to the car and curled up in the back seat, trying to rest before...

Meanwhile

Xander couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t been pulled over yet, dispite his high speeds and reckless driving. He knew he should be more cautious, but at the same time his heart was pushing him forward, urging him to find Giles and Oz before the fight started. He knew he could make a difference.

He looked at a map during one of his gas stops. After tracing the route, he glanced at his watch. Tomorrow morning, he thought. I hope I’m not too late.

The next day, at dusk

Giles killed the car’s engine, took a deep breath, and climbed out of the car. Reaching into the back seat, he drew the blade Willow had enchanted and shut both doors. Oz got out on the other side. He carried no weapons, nor would he need any. He was a true lycanthrope, a person who could control the animalistic curse and bend it to his will. Giles believed Oz would be able to kill a vampire because of the curse.

The two men looked to the door of the small building, the den of vampires. They had seen a few people being dragged inside a few hours ago, and had heard the lingering screams for the last two hours. Now that the screaming had stopped and some vampires once again hunted, Giles and Oz made their move.

Oz kicked in the door, his slight frame focusing more power than humanly possible. Giles immediately slid into the room, his blade at the ready. Two vampires wore shocked expressions as the vengeful Watcher rent their flesh with his sword. The wounds Giles inflicted smoked and caused the vampires great pain. Thanks to the enchantment, the sword could slay a vampire as easily as a mortal.

Oz entered behind Giles just as Buffy and Angelus entered the room, alert and ready. The four of them simply stood for a moment, feeding upon the tension of the moment. Then Angelus spoke.

“So, Giles,” Angelus began, his face already distorted by the demon within. “You finally got up the nerve to hunt me.” When Giles didn’t answer, Angelus continued. “Most Watchers get themselves killed by the Slayer they trained. You, on the other hand, are going to by my dinner tonight.”

Giles sneered, something he hadn’t done in many long years. “Oz,” he ground out, “take Buffy.” Raising his sword in salute, his eyes cold and hard as steel. “Angelus is mine.”

Buffy smirked as she looked at her one-time friend. Seeing he carried no weapons, she closed in on him, her eyes red with bloodlust. Her growl of hunger turned to a yelp of surprise when Oz partially transformed into a wolf, retaining only his upright stature.

Angelus spared Buffy only a fleeting glance as Oz forced her to flee the room. Apparently Buffy still needed silver to harm the werewolf.

“That was a nasty trick, old man,” the old vampire sneered. “You’ll pay for that with you’re life.”

“And you with yours,” Giles replied, his voice as cold as his eyes.

The vampire exploded into action, his movements barely a blur. His superhuman strength and inhuman claws easily tore through the Watcher’s mail armor, drawing blood easily. Giles tried to defend himself, but Angelus was just too fast. Giles knew that he would die here.

Yet the killing blow didn’t fall. Angelus slide back from the mortally wounded Watcher, his vampiric claws covered in his blood. Lifting his left hand, Angelus licked the blood from one finger.

“Soon I’ll feast upon you, old man,” Angelus said haughtily. “And there is no one to help you.”

Giles let all of his fears fall away, accepted that he would die here. With the last of his mortal fears released, he focused on his one remaining task.

Killing Angelus.

When the vampire lunged forward, Giles didn’t try to avoid the blow. The vampire’s clawed hand sunk deep into the Watcher’s chest, a painful and fatal wound. The too combatants locked gazes, and Giles grinned. It was a dark and wicked grin.

“Why the fuck...?” Angelus began to question. He was interrupted when he felt the enchanted blade tear through his chest, piercing his heart and severing his spine. He let out one pathetic sob before his body turned to dust.

Giles, without Angelus supporting his weight, collapsed to the floor. His heart beat once more, his breath fled his body, and Rupert Giles was no more.

Meanwhile

Buffy cursed loudly and often as the werewolf chased her down the dark alleyways. She searched in vain for something, anything, she could use to hurt the lycanthrope. She could hear his padded footfalls behind her. Thankfully he wasn’t closing in on her, but nor was she getting any farther away. Rounding a corner, she found a means of escape.

Oz pushed himself to his limits. His strides were long and loping, like a true wolf. He could smell Buffy, faintly blood and very dead. Something in him raged at the scent, something he had never know existed before.

He lost her trail suddenly and cleanly. It was his turn to curse. Looking around, he decided to hurry back to Giles. Maybe he could help in that fight.

Buffy held her breath as the werewolf walked away, never seeing that she was hiding in the manhole directly beneath him.

Oz returned to the building just as Xander climbed out of his car. Stalling any questions by pulling a stake and cross, Xander hurried into the building with Oz right behind him. The sight that greeted them was a sad one indeed.

Giles lay in the center of the room, his body bloody and torn. His sword was still clutched in his outstretched hand. At the end of the blade was a pile of dust and Angelus’s ring.

“You did it, G-man,” Xander said softly as he returned the stake and cross to his pockets. Together, he and Oz lifted the noble Watcher’s body and carried him to the cars. Wrapping him in a blanket, they laid him reverantly in the back seat of his car.

They drove a short distance into the woods, to a place were they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“We need to bury him,” Xander said. “But what if he rises as a vampire?”

Oz nodded his head in agreement. After a moment’s thought, his went to get some large containers from the trunk of Giles’s car.

“What are you doing?” Xander asked.

“Giving him a warrior’s funeral,” Oz replied. “We’ll build him a pyre.”

Xander nodded his agreement and began gathering the wood needed.

Two hours later the young men solemnly watched as they’re ally and friend was carried to the heavens on the wings of the flame, towards the peace they both knew he deserved.

As the flames died down, and Xander and Oz turned back to the cars, Xander opened his hand. In it he held Angelus's ring. He would keep the ring as a remeberance of the man, who's soul carried the burden of two centuries of death and murder, who still managed to fight for good and find love. Dispite what he had said to him almost a year ago, Xander knew that Angelus wasn't the same person as Angel. He hoped feverantly that Angel was in the same place as Giles, finally at peace.