Hotel Lobby – Resume
“I’m sorry, come again?” Giles inquired, walking over to Wesley. “How can this be your past? You’re my spirit guide, you’re here to help me uncover whatever the bloody hell it is I’m supposed to make sense of. How can we be seeing your past?”
Wesley turned back to Giles. “Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s supposed to learn something?”
The barely audible sound of scribbling could be heard coming from Wesley’s former office. He opened his eyes and walked through the open door into the dimly lit room, followed by Giles
A younger Wesley sat at the table opposite them. Dozens of books completely covered the green tarnished leather surface of the table. He sat with one hand on a thick book, his fingers tracing a sentence, while his other hand jotted something down on a pad. As he finished writing, his pen dropped from his hand. Moments passed as the other Wesley stared at the pad, awe-stricken.
“What is it?” Giles asked.
“The Father will kill The Son,” Wesley muttered.
“Sorry?” Giles said, confused.
Wesley turned to Giles and nodded for him to look over his shoulder. When he complied, Giles saw a bassinet and heard the sounds of a baby gurgling and fussing.
He glanced back to Wesley. “Yours?”
The other Wesley closed his book and notepad and went over to the bassinet, where the baby was now crying, flailing with his tiny arms. He simply stared at the child.
“Jeez, Wes! Don’t you know what you’re supposed to do?” Angel called out from the doorway, where he was sipping on a tall glass of what looked like claret.
The sound of his voice surprised Giles. Stepping back so as not to get in the way, Giles trained his eyes on Angel. Setting the glass on a tabletop, Angel walked over to the bassinet. “You pick ’em up when they fuss.” He leaned over and picked the baby up in his arms, attempting to quell its distress. “Daddy’s here.”
Shooting a look at Wesley, Giles’s brow furrowed. “Daddy?” he gasped.
“Willow knows,” Wesley explained, “though I doubt she would have said anything considering the current state of affairs back in Sunnydale at the time. By now she’s probably got other things on her mind. But that isn’t the point.”
The sound of a guitar, accompanied by a woman singing, broke the other Wesley and Angel out of their conversation. They left the office and went across the lobby to the garden door.
Giles watched them go. “Should we follow?”
Wesley shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. That doesn’t matter.”
“Then what does?”
Wesley took a breath. “This was the moment when I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to take Connor away from Angel.”
“The Father will kill The Son,” Giles reiterated, understanding in his voice.
“Yes, though the prophecy was only a ploy that I was meant to find. They knew that as soon as I translated the prophecy I’d act. I’d do what needed to be done, because, in my eyes, I was doing good. I was just another cog in the grand pre-ordained wheel of some former Higher Power’s plan. Hindsight is such a wonderful thing, isn’t it? I did it, I took Connor away, but my actions didn’t work out for the best, not for anyone. I just don’t understand why I’m being shown this.”
“That makes two of us,” Giles said.
Apartment Grounds – Night
A cool night breeze billowed through the air, gently rustling the leaves on the tree that Giles and Wesley now stood under.
“Yours again?” Giles asked, already knowing the answer.
“Indeed. This is my old apartment. I think I get it. I’ve been sent to you to help you understand your choices and those of others around you…but what if I must do the same?”
Wesley shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked around at the setting, the time of day, the spot they were standing in. “This is the exact moment where my actions, though my intentions were pure of heart, started a downward spiral which would ultimately affect the rest of our lives. In a roundabout way, I am responsible for everything.”
“Wesley, you can’t say that. You can’t know for sure what’s going to happen an hour from now, or even five minutes down the line,” Giles said.
Voices could be heard just off to their left, by the parking lot. Leaning forward they saw another Wesley, holding the baby in one arm while he aimed a handgun at a distraught, beaten woman on her knees. After the pair exchanged a few words, the other Wesley latched the safety switch on his weapon and holstered the gun under his jacket.
“Who is she?” Giles asked.
“A woman who was tainted by a harsh life. I kept her in my closet once,” Wesley said matter-of-factly.
Giles shot Wesley a strange stare. “I can imagine that would be harsh. If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll choose to forget that last comment.” Giles looked distinctly uncomfortable. “A lover of yours?”
“She should be so lucky,” Wesley sniggered mockingly. “Justine sought guidance from a man called Holtz – the vampire hunter who famously pursued Angel and Darla across Europe.”
“Holtz? But shouldn’t he be dead by this time?”
“Don’t ask.” Wesley shrugged.
“You have to get to a hospital,” the other Wesley told Justine as she fell against him.
“No,” she coughed. “I just…” Out of nowhere, Justine pulled a knife and sliced it across the other Wesley’s neck.
“Oh my god!” Giles started at the sight.
The other Wesley fell to his knees, frantically gasping for air with one hand pressed against his cut and his other arm clutching baby Connor close to his chest. His grip wavered as more of his blood poured from his wound. Justine managed to grab hold of Connor and raced to Wesley’s car to make her escape. The other Wesley toppled over onto his side, blood profusely flowing between his fingers. All the while, his eyes were locked onto the car as it sped out of sight.
“And that’s not the best part. Next I get mugged as I lie there on death’s door by a tramp, and then…”
Hospital Room – Night
“I want you to know I understand why you did what you did,” Angel told the other Wesley as he looked down at him. The ex-watcher lay in his hospital bed with a bandage around his neck.
Giles and Wesley stood at the foot of the hospital bed. Giles inquisitively scanned his surroundings before turning back to Angel and the other Wesley.
“Who’d have thought that the Powers would be consistent for once,” Wesley wise cracked.
“– I know how hard it must have been for you to…do what you did,” Angel continued.
“He seems oddly placid about this. Perhaps I got Angel wrong?” Giles remarked.
“I think you have, but you’re wrong about him now. Look at his eyes, look how he stands….how he holds himself. Feel it, listen to what’s not being said. He’s not placid. He’s raging,” Wesley replied.
” – This isn’t Angelus talking to you, it’s me, Angel. You know that right?” Angel finished.
The other Wesley nodded, closing his eyes in slight relief.
“Good,” Angel smiled, picking up a pillow.
“Hindsight,” Wesley added.
“That’s good,” Angel moved closer, almost lovingly, and then abruptly rammed the pillow over the other Wesley’s face. The tremendous strength of Angel’s arm coupled with the other Wesley’s weak state made it impossible for him to move.
Giles looked away, turning his back to the vile tableau of his friend’s suffering. Wesley faced the other way, watching as Angel punished him.
“Sometimes I wonder whether it would have been best if he had finished me then,” Wesley said.
“No one should ever say that,” Giles answered. “I can’t be hypocritical and say that I haven’t thought that in the past, that it doesn’t sometimes feel like it would have been easier to just slip away. But I’ve learned that those thoughts are selfish. No matter your path in life, it’s a gift, nonetheless – a gift that, since my daughter, I now truly appreciate.”
Wesley turned to Giles, a soft smile creeping over his face. “Daughter. I only wish that I could have granted life to another, my own. But I know that my death, my sacrifice, has given life to countless others. So I am appreciative of my life.” Wesley suddenly donned a frown. “Back up a second, you’ve got a daughter and yet you’re still doing this job? You are two sandwiches short, aren’t you?”
Alarms sounded, and footsteps could be heard outside the room. Then, as the door burst open, white light engulfed the room.
Watchers Council – Dr. Miller’s Office – Night
The door to Dr. Miller’s office pushed open and Willow hobbled inside with a pair of crutches. The doctor sat at his desk, glancing up at her with an awkward smile, one that faded when he looked back at Becca. She sat opposite him, biting her nails. Her eyes were glassy and her body trembled slightly. To her left sat Buffy, her hand on top of Becca’s.
Willow took a seat to Becca’s right, reaching out to place her hand on Becca’s in a similar fashion. “To be honest, I don’t know where to start,” Dr. Miller said.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve conducted a thorough exam of Rupert, twice – CAT scans, X-Rays, blood labs, the works – and I just…” Dr. Miller exhaled in frustration. “I can’t seem to diagnose his condition. I spoke with Miss Rosenberg earlier when they were brought in, and she mentioned that some ‘magical light’ swept over his head moments before you reached him.” He took a deep breath, trying to piece his words together carefully and coherently. “My best guess is that’s the cause, and from what Miss Allister told me, their research isn’t coming up with anything to suggest otherwise.” The doctor rubbed his forehead. “However, Miss Rosenberg, you did say that thing he stood on, the ‘podium,’ was some sort of device that ‘downloaded’ knowledge into his brain, right?” Willow nodded her head in acknowledgement, her grip on Becca growing tighter with every word.
Dr. Miller grabbed a folder and stood up. He walked over to a wall light and produced several semi-transparent, shiny black scans. He flicked a switch and light illuminated the sheets as he held them up, revealing a brain scan. He indicated certain black and gray portions of the scan.
“This scan was taken when he first came into the infirmary.” The image he pointed to showed a few black and gray patches. He switched to another scan, holding it up to the light. “This was taken half an hour ago.” The black and gray patches had spread, “The sections of his brain that are black and gray…these sections are…dying, collapsing, the same thing, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. At the current rate of deterioration, he probably won’t make it through the night,” he sighed, looking down at Buffy and Willow’s white, expressionless faces. Becca just continued to sit still, transfixed to the wall in front of her. “It’s plausible that this is a result of interrupting the ‘download’ process. Though, if you had done nothing, he would have been killed for sure, crushed under the rock…” The doctor glanced at Willow. “It isn’t your fault. These things are…nothing I can say will make the pain any easier, but you haven’t…you’re not responsible. You did what you had to do to save him. It’s just unfortunate that it worked out this way.”
As he finished speaking, tears fell from Becca’s eyes. She brought her hands up to cover her face. Willow rubbed her back and looked up at Dr. Miller, who took his glasses off and threw them on his desk. Buffy and Willow looked at each other, but said nothing.
Apartment – Night
The room had changed once again, this time to a bedroom.
Wesley gasped, taking a step back. His eyes went wide at the scene before him.
“No, please no,” he said.
Giles looked over to the bed, where another Wesley sat, his arms wrapped around a sickly, frail woman.
“Wh-what is this?” Giles asked hesitantly.
“The price,” Wesley croaked his reply. His voice was raspy, and his eyes welled with tears.
“Will you kiss me?” the woman wheezed.
The other Wesley leaned toward the woman and placed a soft, yet passionate, kiss on her lips. Her arms grew tighter around his neck.
“Would you have loved me?” the woman asked.
Simultaneously, both versions of Wesley replied to her question with the exact same words. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. No, that’s not – I think maybe even before.”
The other Wesley shifted his weight slightly, revealing the identity of the woman.
Mortified, Giles realized who she was. “Oh my god, Wesley. Fred.”
“My love – mind, body and soul,” Wesley sniffed, trying to keep his composure, “Why am I being –”
Suddenly, Fred started to convulse, her entire body violently shaking not only her, but the other Wesley, too.
“I-I-I…I can’t watch…I’ve already seen her die once, I can’t again. Why are you doing this?” Wesley pleaded, looking up to the ceiling.
“Wesley!” Giles tried to calm him down, turn him away from the memory of himself and Fred. But, despite his protests, Wesley couldn’t seem to turn away.
“Please, Wesley.” Lacking the strength to hold herself up, Fred slowly fell back onto the bed, her breathing growing fast and shallow, “Why can’t I stay?” Her harrowing final words faded into silence and she finally became still, her eyes frozen on her love.
The other Wesley held her in his arms, pulled her limp body closer to him.
At the moment that Fred passed, so did Wesley’s frantic tears.
“Wesley, I’m so –” Giles began, only to be startled by the sight and sound of Fred’s dead body convulsing once more. She shook with so much force that she kicked the other Wesley halfway across the room and pushed herself onto the floor.
The other Wesley got to his feet and stood side-by-side with himself. Both Wesleys watched Fred’s corpse twitch and shake on the bedroom floor. Giles stood on the other side of Wesley, his horrified eyes wide.
Eerily, Fred rose majestically, much to the surprise of Giles and the other Wesley. Fred stood differently. Her hair and the sides of her face were a royal blue, her eyes deep glaciers of impenetrable blue ice.
Inquisitively, Fred looked down at her arm and examined her hand, flexing her fingers. Curling her hand into a fist, she spoke in a toneless voice. “This will do.”
The room fell quiet as the three men watched Fred. She walked over to the mirror to the other Wesley. Giles hurriedly stepped out of the way, but Wesley stood staring as the visage of Fred grew ever closer. She stepped through him and stared at her reflection in the mirror, almost child-like.
“Fred?” The other Wesley asked. When he got no response his countenance darkened. “Illyria?”
“Illyria?” Giles muttered pensively, his gaze falling on Wesley. “I’ve heard that name before.”
Wesley swallowed hard, taking a walk around Illyria as she spoke to the other Wesley. “Illyria. Demon monarch of the Old World. An Old One.”
“My god,” Giles breathed.
“Illyria’s sarcophagus, believe it or not, was stuck in customs, and all that was needed to free it was a simple signature. Gunn’s actions only go to show how weak and frail we truly are. How we’ll do anything to get what we want.”
“– Bleat at me no longer. We’re done,” Illyria commanded the other Wesley, turning away from him.
“Yes…” The other Wesley bent to pick up a battle-axe. “…we are.” With his final words, the other Wesley swung the axe at the back of Illyria’s neck.
With a loud, metallic clank, the razor-sharp blade shattered into thousands of shards as it connected with Illyria’s stone-like skin. She didn’t even flinch.
Giles did flinch as the axe splintered, a terrified look upon his face.
“I honestly thought that it would be that easy,” Wesley said. “The fact that I was willing to destroy something in the image of my love is what counts.”
Watchers Council – Infirmary – Same Time
“I can’t believe our little girl’s going to be one next week. Where’s the time gone, huh? She’s growing up so fast. Soon she’ll be able to talk more, walk more, and read on her own – I know you’re looking forward to that. You always said, the sooner we wean her off the bottle and onto books the better,” Becca struggled with a smile as she sat by Giles’s bedside, holding his hand. Her thumb caressed the back of his hand. “I finished writing her birthday song this morning. Okay, perhaps not the greatest lyrics ever written…but I can’t put into words how much she means to me, how much…” Her eyes were fixated on Giles’s slumbering face.
Becca cleared her throat. “That Taylor guitar you got me certainly is a charm to play. I’m going to teach Liz to play when she’s older. I’ll teach her to play guitar, and you teach her…” It was as if her mouth suddenly became dry, the opposite of her eyes. She swallowed and gripped Giles’s hand tighter as the tears filled her eyes. “You…you stubborn man. I know I’ll never change you. I know you’ll always go and do the right thing. Fight the good fight. I know you don’t just do it to make this world a safer place for us. You do it for everyone else, people you don’t even know. You’re too noble for your own good, if you ask me.” Carefully, Becca leaned forward and began to stroke Giles’s forehead with her other hand.
“But that’s why I love you, Rupert…with the whole of my heart, and I can’t…I can’t lose you. I can’t do this alone. I…I need you. Our family needs you. So just think about our plans, alright? What about that saying, ‘all good things come to he who waits?’ Just…just wait a little longer…please? For me, for all of us? Don’t give up yet, because we’ve got more to do, a lot more to do, and you know what I mean…think of all the things we’ve got planned? All the joy to come. I can’t do it on my own. I’m getting older and I need you by my side to pick up the slack. I’ve got this picture painted of us in my mind. You and I sitting out on the porch in the early evening with a glass of lemonade, watching the world go by before us.
Clichéd, I know, but what I wouldn’t give for a cliché right about now. One from those god awful TV movies you hate, where a single prayer is heard out of all those in the world, and you come back to me. Please, come back, for me, for all of us.” Becca’s rasping voice eventually broke as she laid her head softly on Giles’s chest, her hand still holding onto his. “I’d make this all go away if I could wave a magic wand and…” Becca trailed off and quickly wiped her eyes, then rose from her chair and quickly left the room.
Office – Day
Again the two men found themselves in another location, this time an office that overlooked a lab with high-tech equipment.
Giles and Wesley stood in the corner of the room by a bookcase, looking on as the other Wesley and Illyria stood talking next to a window that overlooked the lab below.
“I’m probably the last man in the world to teach you what’s right,” the other Wesley sighed, placing his hands on his hips.
“But you will. If I abide, you will help me,” Illyria said.
“Yes,” the other Wesley replied softly.
“Because I look like her?” Illyria asked.
The other Wesley looked at her with tears burning in his eyes. In a whisper, he answered, “Yes.”
“You see. I’m no different,” Wesley explained to Giles. “I left it too long to do anything. I couldn’t do the deed. Despite Illyria retaining some of Fred’s memories, I knew it wasn’t her, nor could it ever be her. And yet I just couldn’t kill it.” Wesley’s tears had run dry. “It’s the initial, gut reaction that will ultimately decide your actions. If you leave it too long, you’ll either say no or just leave it.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Wesley,” Giles said.
“Oh, I don’t. At least not now,” Wesley answered, looking from Giles over to where the other Wesley and Illyria now stood.
“We cling to what is gone. Is there anything in this life but grief?” Illyria turned to her mentor, almost begging for an answer.
Watchers Council – Coven Room – Same Time
“There must be something you can do,” Becca pleaded with Willow.
Willow looked torn. “Medically, I affect some things with magic, but others…” Sadly, she shook her head. “In Giles’s case, I might make it worse.”
“Worse than certain death?”
“Yes,” Willow answered firmly.
“I don’t believe that,” Becca said, holding back her tears.
Willow broke down at that point and began to cry herself.
“You think I don’t want to save him? You-you think I wouldn’t do a spell that might improve his chances? Giles is family to me, Becca. He’s been more my dad than my own father. I love him, I admire him a-and if I could help, I would, so don’t stand there a-and act like I don’t give a damn.”
Becca took a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, Willow. I know you’re hurting too…I just…He and I have plans…Things I don’t think I can do on my own without him.”
“No,” Willow said, regrouping. “I’m sorry. You’re losing a husband right now. Liz is losing a dad she’ll never know.” Becca looked like she was going to say something, but stopped as Willow continued. “I understand where you’re coming from, but try to realize…it feels like I’m losing a father too. A-and from what Dr. Miller said…it’s obvious I’ve done enough already.”
“He also said it’s not your fault,” Becca told her. “Rupert would have been crushed if you hadn’t pulled him away. I don’t blame you for this, so don’t blame yourself. It’s just…there’s nothing I can do, and the way Rupert talks about you…let’s just say he’s proud of his daughter and thinks there isn’t anything in the world you can’t do.”
Willow gave her a melancholy grin. “Right now, I wish he was right,” she replied softly.
Cyrus Vail‘s Mansion – Night
Wesley stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet as he fell back into Illyria’s arms. She held him tight as the pair slid to the floor. Wesley’s eyes widened, everything around him intensifying and sharpening.
“Wesley,” Illyria exclaimed. Her ice-blue eyes moved down from his face to the wound in his stomach. “This wound is mortal.”
Curiously, his fingers worked their way down to his bloodied, damp shirt. “Aren’t we all?” He smiled. “It was good…that you came.”
“I killed all mine, and I was…”
“I think so. But I can’t help. You’ll be dead within minutes,” Illyria said coldly.
“I know,” Wesley managed.
Illyria stared down at him, her grip tightening. “Would you like me to lie to you now?” she asked quietly.
Wesley weakly looked up at her. “Yes,” he whispered, closing his eyes in a slow, pained blink. “Thank you. Yes.” It was then that he felt Fred’s soft touch on his cheek, and when he opened his eyes once again, he looked up at Fred’s smiling face. “Hello there.”
Struggling through her tears, Fred smiled. “Oh Wesley. My Wesley.”
“Fred,” Wesley whispered, his eyelids fluttering as they fought to stay open, “I’ve missed you.”
She bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, then she planted another on his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. It won’t hurt much longer, and then you’ll be where I am.” She broke down into tears, the droplets falling onto his cheek. “We’ll be together.”
“I-I love you.” Wesley’s voice grew softer.
“I love you. My Love. Oh, my love,” Fred cried, watching as Wesley’s body slowly gave up the fight. He went limp. his motionless eyes staring back up at Fred.
Fred looked down at his lifeless body and let him go, carefully resting his head on the cold marble floor. Still in the guise of Fred, Illyria blinked, inquisitively staring down at Wesley’s body. Through gritted teeth, she released a heavy sigh as she got to her feet.
Behind her stood an old, leathery red demon. “How very touching his meaningless death was. But this fight was never for mortals.”
Still in the form of Fred, Illyria turned to Vail angrily. Her fury could be seen just beneath her cold, concrete exterior.
“Oh,” Vail chuckled, “take your best shot, little girl.”
In a heartbeat, Illyria swung an incredibly powerful punch straight at Vail’s head, her form changing mid-swing from that of Fred into icy-blue Illyria. The tremendous force sent her fist straight through Vail’s head, completely obliterating his skull.
Swiftly, she retracted her fist, and as the demon’s dead, headless corpse fell to the ground, it revealed Giles and Wesley standing behind it.
“And that’s how it happened,” Wesley said. “That’s how I died.”
The two men watched as Illyria turned and stood over Wesley’s body. She stared at it for the briefest of moments, her fists clenched, before pacing out of the dining room.
“Vail was wrong, my death wasn’t meaningless,” Wesley said.
“Why did you ask her to lie to you?” Giles asked.
“Because sometimes lies are more palatable than the truth.”
“You mean easier.”
“Wesley, be straight with me please. What did you die for? What cause would warrant such a lonely, undercut death?”
“Again, not a question you should be asking.”
“Then what questions am I supposed to ask?”
Wesley sniggered, shaking his head in disbelief. “All of them, if you haven’t figured that out already,” he said, slowly walking away from Giles.
“Don’t get cryptic with me,” Giles remarked in a tired, weak voice.
“Well, don’t ask stupid bloody questions that you already know the answer to!” Wesley spun around and roared at Giles, surprising the older man with his drastic change in attitude. “Look, I’m sorry, but you asking me, in spite of everything you and I have relived, only underscores what I’ve seen.”
Giles stood his ground and narrowed the gap between himself and Wesley. “And what exactly is it that you’ve seen, Wesley?”
“Everything you’ve seen this year, and everything that you’ve so aptly failed to see.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Earlier I told you I was cautious about what I let slip. Well, I’ve bit my tongue, given you a chance to see, to understand, and yet you still ask me that question? You know full well what I’m talking about. The–” Wesley would have continued his tirade, but suddenly his eyes darted to the corner of the regally furnished room.
Bewildered, Giles turned to see nothing. “Cat got your tongue,” he remarked sarcastically as he turned back to Wesley.
Wesley glared at Giles. “In a manner of speaking”
“Let me guess, you were about to spill the figurative beans, weren’t you? About the Council? About our decisions? But nanny got her slipper out just in time, didn’t she?” he mocked.
“I’m surprised you actually want to hear the truth.”
“What gives you the right to criticize us for our choices and decisions, when yours have been less than stellar!”
“I’m presuming you’re referring to Angel’s decision to go to Wolfram and Hart. Christ almighty, there’s a world of difference between our decision to go there and your decisions to…” Wesley tried to get out his words, but his eyes were drawn back to the corner. He turned his attention back to Giles and released his held breath. “– so don’t you criticize me!”
Still rather surprised at Wesley’s stance, Giles added, “Who are you? What have you become?”
“The question isn’t what I‘ve become, it’s who you‘ve become. But if you had taken the time to at least speak with me over the years, you would know who I am now. No, instead you furrowed your brow and turned your back on Angel and us, because we went to Wolfram and Hart.”
“Can you blame us?”
“No, I can’t,” Wesley supplied honestly, both his tone and the atmosphere beginning to lighten. “We would have been suspicious of you if you had done the same. But the difference between you and us is that we would have at least taken the time to find out why you suddenly changed your supposed allegiance. Instead, you completely shut us out. You lied to us about your whereabouts when we really needed you, and only made yourselves known when you wanted something…Dana. And look how that turned out.”
Giles swallowed hard at the mention of the fallen slayer. “Dana was… she was a very disturbed woman…” Wesley raised a brow, as if expecting Giles to leave it at that. “…but her death was something I don’t wish on anyone.”
“Of course not, but we needed you Giles. We really did. Bloody hell, Angel spoke to you directly trying to reach Willow, and…”
An uncomfortable silence overcame them. “…Fred? You’re not with her, are you?”
“No. Her soul was destroyed during Illyria’s resurrection.” Wesley saw Giles’s look. “Please…don’t. I’m sorry for my outburst. I’ve learned that forgiveness is a quality that tries you, but a quality you can’t do without. I guess I really do have something to learn.”
Giles took a step forward. “We both do”
London Street – Night
The light dissipated once again and revealed that Giles and Wesley were now standing in a street in the dead of night. Densely packed rows of houses and other buildings of Victorian design lined the vacant street. Lampposts emitted a dim, orange, flickering light, suspending the streets in a sort of peculiar twilight.
“Does this look familiar to you?” Wesley asked Giles as he glanced at the houses.
“Strangely…yes.” Giles walked away from Wesley down the street.
“Giles!” Wesley called after him, but when Giles didn’t stop, Wesley ran to catch up to him.
Walking past the houses, Giles noticed that each of the windows had the curtains drawn, with strips of diagonal white tape on the inside. The front gates of some of the houses were ajar.
“I’ve been here before, but this memory isn’t mine. I remember these streets in a different way. Without that distinct thick smell of sulfur in the air. I remember people walking without a care in the world, the doors to people’s houses open on the latch.”
A high-pitched, wailing air raid siren began to sound. Wesley stopped to listen to the siren’s call as it grew progressively louder. Giles continued pacing down to the corner of the street, where he froze on the spot. Picking up the trail, Wesley ran down to meet him. He followed Giles’s gaze up to the night sky.
Dozens of planes flew in formation, approaching the shadowy, fearful city. Several quiet, bright flashes of light could be seen, shortly followed by a rumbling sound that filled the air. Plumes of thick black smoke billowed up from the city. Amongst the various sounds of war rose the cries of people racing to the air raid shelters.
Beams of white light struck the gray sky, searchlights fixating on the enemy. Then the roaring sound of Spitfires could be heard, as they darted towards the flank of the German bombers.
The bombers broke from formation and headed for the residential areas of central London. Mere streets away from where Giles and Wesley stood, the only denizens of the area impervious to harm, a German bomber swooped overhead, releasing a bomb from the bowl of the ship. On impact, the bomb completely obliterated the surrounding houses. Bricks and concrete became violent ballistic projectiles as they spewed into the air. Structures buckled, tumbling to the pavement. Clouds of dust and ash spiraled up from the ground. Bursts of fire raged violently, fueled by ruptured gas pipes. Shrapnel littered the desolate, decimated streets.
Overhead, the battle raged. Some of the bombers were shot out of the air, some continued raining death and destruction down upon London.
“That’s my street…where I lived as a boy,” Giles gasped, staring at the flames and smoke rising above the unscathed houses.
He ran across the street with Wesley in tow, ducking and diving between the houses.
“Giles…Giles!” Wesley called again futilely, trying to slow him down.
They emerged into the decimated street just as the air raid siren ceased. Before them was a wasteland of rubble. Miraculously, the houses further up the street still stood more or less untouched. Fire engines could be heard amidst the wailing cries of people coming out of their houses to find they had lost everything.
“Georgie! Georgie!” Giles heard a familiar voice to his right. Turning, he saw a man sprint toward the ruins of the houses. “GEORGIE!” He cried out, his hand reaching for his forehead as he came to the realization that his friend was likely dead.
Others came running down the street from behind the man, the noise of the fire engines getting ever nearer. He stood for a moment before traversing the ruins to search for his lost friend, completely disregarding his own well being.
“That’s my father,” Giles told Wesley, following. Wesley blinked, hearing Giles’s voice having broken him out of his daze, then followed suit.
Giles’s father tread carefully, continuing until he came to a sudden stop, his eyes widening in fear. The tears burned in his eyes as he fell to his knees. Giles and Wesley stood over him and saw the body of Giles’s father’s friend lying in the rubble, bloodied and beaten.
Giles’s father crawled forward and pulled Georgie’s body up into his lap. “No…no…” He broke down as Giles and Wesley watched wretchedly from behind.
“Is there anything in this life but grief?” Giles asked rhetorically, as the white light exploded out of the ruins of the houses.
Russia – Back Streets – Night
A young woman, her jet black hair held up in a bun, dashed through the narrow back streets. Military officers carrying firearms followed in hot pursuit. She jumped over wooden crates left outside the back doors of restaurants. As she skidded around a corner, she pulled over one of the bins to the ground and kicked it back down the alley with tremendous strength. The soldiers turned into the alley and the first wave of officers were floored by the rolling bin. The girl sped down another alley, vaulting over dumpsters with a perfected grace. She landed solidly on the ground and continued, though upon her landing an object fell from her belt and rolled across the damp cobbles – a wooden stake.
Determination etched on her small face, she controlled her breathing, pacing herself as she rolled into another alley. Despite her attempts to stop, she crashed into a wall at the end of the alley. Dead end. Frantically, she scanned her surroundings, clawing at the brick wall as she tried to find a way up.
Giles and Wesley stood at the other end of the alley, concealed in the shadows of the towering buildings.
Perplexed at the dramatic change of venue, Giles asked, “Where are we now?”
Running his hand just millimeters above the stone walls of the alley, Wesley discovered a poster written in Russian. “Russia,” he replied. They looked back to the young woman, who had now found a thick pipe. “I know her,” he added.
“As do I,” Giles replied.
Testing the pipe for stability, the woman wrapped her hands round the conduit and began to pull herself up, wrapping her legs around it as well.
“She’s the slayer that slew the vampire KGB officer,” Giles recalled. “What was her name…Arina?”
“Yes. She was my father’s slayer,” Wesley revealed, glancing over to Giles.
The KGB officers turned into the alley. Arina began to climb faster, but the pipe was hot and slick. The officers grabbed at her legs, which kicked at them as she tried to climb higher. The officers managed to grab ahold of her legs and pulled her down. The girl crashed to the pavement and smashed her head against a crate.
Despite her injuries and the dazed look she wore, Arina got to her feet and ran up the wall, kicking off the vertical surface and slamming her foot into an officer’s face. She tried her best to keep in close quarters with them. to prevent them from firing their weapons. One officer went at her, but she ducked and delivered an upper-cut to his chin, sending him flying over her. Another officer landed a punch square in her face that sent her reeling backwards. Blood gushing from her nose, she peered up to see them readying their guns. Arina raced forward, grabbing one gun and shoving it into the officer’s stomach and then up into his face. Another advanced from behind, but she spun around, grabbed his shirt and threw him into the others.
With the majority of the officers stunned or floored, Arina went back to the pipe, jumping into the air and grabbing it. She pulled herself up, the adrenaline pumping throughout her body.
An officer got to his feet, grabbed his machine gun and fired a shot into her leg. The bullet pierced her muscle and splintered the bone, causing Arina to fall back to the ground. She cried out at the pain as her body cracked against the cold, hard pavement. The rest of the officers were now on their feet, readying their guns. With the help of another set of pipes, Arina struggled to get up, but as she attempted to do so, the KGB officers slammed their fingers down on the triggers and released a barrage of bullets into her body.
The machine gun fire illuminated the alley way, and the white light emerged out of the bursts to swallow Giles and Wesley.
Shack – Day
Floorboards creaked beneath Giles and Wesley’s feet as they suddenly appeared in yet another location – inside an old wooden shack. The atmosphere was strangely still. There was little sound bar that of the crackling from a wood fire burning in the fireplace of the lonely, empty room they stood in.
Something caught Giles’s eye, a picture hanging on the splintered wooden wall next to the fireplace.
Wesley walked over to the window. It was daylight out and it bathed him in a pale hue.
“We’re in Russia again,” Giles spoke up, “only back when it was the Russian Empire.” The younger watcher looked over to Giles to see him pointing to a picture of the Great Coat of Arms of the Russian Empire hanging on the wall.
“Well, I know I wasn’t born at this time,” Wesley quipped.
Giles rolled his eyes and was about to comment when he heard a baby’s gurgle coming from a crib in the corner of the room. Suddenly, voices could be heard from outside, growing closer to the door. Wesley pressed his finger against his lips, telling Giles to be quiet while he eavesdropped on the conversation. It wasn’t of any particular interest or relevance, but a name caught his attention – Dzhugashvili. Then another name was mentioned in relation to a baby – losif.
Both men’s eyes went wide in awe at the revelation. Wesley stepped forward, but knocked his leg hard against the table leg.
“Blo –” he grabbed at his knee and then his eyes widened, the pain temporarily forgotten at the realization of what he had done. He had interacted with their environment.
Giles shot him a baffled look, but the voices outside the room had heard the noise. Giles grabbed Wesley and pressed him and himself up against the wall. The voices grew closer and the shadow of someone peering through the window appeared across the wooden floor.
After a moment, the shadows withdrew and the voices trailed off into the distance.
The two watchers pulled away from the wall and stood in the center of the room for a moment, before the sound of the baby drew their attention.
Giles and Wesley stood over the crib, staring down at the baby.
“This is…” Giles stuttered.
“…Josef Stalin,” Wesley replied.
“To think what this baby will do. The deaths he’ll cause. The evil he’ll commit. Hindsight,” Giles said, with some resentment. “And yet he started out like this, as an innocent.”
“We all did.”
“Not the point. What…what causes an innocent to change into something so vulgar and to commit atrocities of the likes that this one will?”
“To be fair, I don’t think most who choose evil will ever come close to what Stalin did…does…will do…you get the picture”
“Still…so innocent,” Giles’s eyes stared down into the baby’s, but the baby’s couldn’t stay still.
Giles leaned back from over the crib, turning his back to it and Wesley and walking across the room. Wesley watched him and rested back against the wall.
The older man stopped in front of the fire, arms folded. The red and orange flickers reflected in his glasses. He glanced up at the mantle above the fireplace. Taking a step forward, he reached out to an old brass ornament and picked it up, testing whether he too could interact with his environment. As he placed it back down, he laid his eyes on a hunting knife that rested at the furthest end of the mantle.
“There are so many things we could have done differently in our lives. So many things. And we’ve been allowed by some divine right to relive them in order to shape and change our future. But what if we could change the past? Right here, right now?”
Wesley leaned forward off of the wall. “What?”
“This is what this whole experience has been about, right? Knowing and understanding what it takes to do the right thing,” Giles picked up the knife. Wesley’s eyes widened at the weapon and glared up at Giles. “What if this is our chance, our choice to do the right thing?”
“You mean kill…kill the baby?”
“I mean to say, save millions, end the Second World War early, maybe avoid the Cold War altogether.”
“I can’t believe you’re talking about this, let alone contemplating it!”
“Neither can I,” Giles added. Unsure, he looked down at the knife in his hands. “It’s worrying, it’s frightening and I can’t believe that, as the person I am now, I’m thinking about it.”
“You think that killing the baby will make this world a better place? For all you know, killing him could make the world even worse! An even greater evil dictator could rise to power. Not to mention temporal causality. You talk of doing a great good here and the lives you’ll save, but think of the lives that will be lost through this. The parents who won’t meet, who won’t give birth to the generations to come. You don’t know that killing him won’t alter your birth, mine, Buffy’s, the Slayer Line?”
“And you think I don’t know that?” Giles raised his voice. “You honestly believe that I don’t understand that killing him might do more harm than good?”
“Then why are you even considering it?”
“Because…it’s…I’m trying to weigh both sides. The good and the bad.”
“What, all of a sudden? How can anyone gauge such things?”
“Wasn’t it you who told me that it’s that gut reaction that will ultimately decide what you do? Umm…this child – no, the man this child will become – is the man who will commit all of the crimes, and the man who I’m considering killing.”
“Murdering,” Wesley added bluntly.
“But then, the child hasn’t become that man yet, and I’m left…I’m left unsure. I’m not saying that I know the future, and I know that with any choice I make, whether it be this one or something completely different, I will have to face consequences that I cannot know in advance. But you see, this is where this situation is different. I know and you know what crimes he will commit, the lives that will be destroyed, directly or indirectly, because of his choices. I’m talking about making a choice to kill a murderer who will choose to murder without justice. I have justice, I have reason.”
“And his actions make your choice just?” Wesley replied. “Why do you feel that you must take it upon yourself to do the deed?”
“Because I stand for doing the right thing.”
Wesley stared back at Giles. “And so do I. Giles, if you do this, then you will damn yourself for all of eternity, and I can’t rest in mine knowing that you’ll be sentenced to hell for a decision that you felt in your heart was the right thing to do.” Wesley offered his hand.
“What are –?”
“I agree with you. I’m just as conflicted about this as you are, but how are we to know what the consequences are if he dies now? All we know is that there are two roads that could stem from this decision. The future could proceed as normal and millions will die. Or we could kill him and those lives and countless others can be saved, those tragedies averted. Even then, we can’t be sure that things will play out like that. I understand where you’re coming from, I really do, and the more I think about it, the more I’m willing to do this. Regardless of how future events will play out, I know that my life will still be the same…that I won’t amount to anything. I have no constraints because I have no one. Now, you need to think, if we proceed with this, all of what you have – a wife, a daughter – might not happen. Are you willing to sacrifice them?”
Giles’s eyes glazed over, and he swallowed hard. “I’m not willing to sacrifice them, but I’m willing to sacrifice myself for them. I’m willing to do what needs to be done for the greater good, in order to keep them safe.”
Giles placed the knife back down on the mantle, directly between the two men.
“So who –?” Giles began, only to have Wesley cut him short.
“You’re saying that you’re the one to do it? You’re saying that –”
“I’m saying that because I’ve already damned myself in the past and I am prepared to do it again. Face it – I’m dead, whatever the outcome it won’t really matter to me as long as I know I’ve done something good. Granted, I’m not chained and living in fire and brimstone now, but I’ve got to live with what I’ve done in the past for all of eternity.”
“And I don’t? Look at who I was, what I’ve done in the past. Look at who you were. We’ve grown, we’ve fought terrible foes, but we’ve never been faced with a choice like this.”
Giles snatched the knife.
“I won’t –”
Gorge – Platform – Same Time
“– let…you,” Giles trailed off upon seeing that they were now back on the platform in the gorge.
“What –?” Wesley began, but he was silenced by the appearance of Celestas. She walked towards the pair from the shadows.
Giles looked down at his open hand, but the knife was gone. Confused, he looked back up at the Guardian.
“Well done, gentlemen,” she said. “You made a decision.”
“Yes, a decision that was –”
“That was tremendously difficult and had infinite possible outcomes and repercussions,” Celestas answered immediately.
“We decided to kill an innocent child who at that time had done nothing wrong! How can you praise us for a job well done?” Giles barked.
“I don’t praise you for your decision to kill an innocent, Mr. Giles. I praise and applaud your decision to do what must be done.”
“What must be done?” Wesley remarked.
“Yes. You did what must be done for the greater good,” she put up her finger, stopping Giles and Wesley from arguing. “Before you two start on about connotations of your actions that I am fully aware of, I’m going to tell you the point. The point is that you two were faced with the possibility of slaying a great evil. That the guise of evil was an innocent child was inconsequential to the test. I understand that it was more than a little…extreme, but when aren’t these decisions? It was merely a test with the harshest and most vulgar example at hand. It had to be. But the test was to see whether or not you two could make an absolutely selfless choice about fighting evil, be it in the appearance of a loved one, be it in the appearance of a child. And you passed. With flying colors, might I add”
“And the point of us reliving our past?” Wesley asked bluntly.
“A precursor to the final trial. A remembrance of times and decisions in your lives that proved hard, that were noble and selfless…and examples of how one single decision can have so many cumulative repercussions.”
“Were they really necessary? We remember our past decisions, our mistakes,” Giles argued. “What you put the two of us through was cruel.”
“It was not unnecessary. Those moments were not only pivotal in shaping who you are today, but in preparing you for the final decision.” Celestas smiled and took a breath. “Now, your rewards.”
“Rewards?” Giles snarled. “Rewards?”
“Call it whatever you like, but you came here for a reason. I am about to give you what you wanted.”
“What if I choose not to accept it, after what we’ve been through?” Giles asked. “After all, I have a choice, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do, but believe me, you do not want to leave here without our knowledge. You’ll need that power,” Celestas insisted. She stared him down, her eyes telling what she could not voice. Then, surprisingly, she smiled, “Mr. Giles, as you intended when you stepped upon the plinth, you are to be bestowed with the knowledge of the Guardians.”
“Humor an old man one more time, and don’t answer my question with another question. Why put me on trial?” Giles asked.
“Do not think yourself special. If it were any other who stood upon the plinth, they would still have been tested. It’s necessary to determine whether or not the person is worthy and enlightened enough to have our knowledge.”
“Worthy? I can understand you testing others for worthiness, but us? The watchers?” Giles queried.
“I’m sure you can appreciate that the actions of the Watchers Council in the last year have been less than…well, they have been appalling in some respects.” Celestas did not once raise or lower her tone. “You lost sight of what was important, your eyes that were more focused on selfish matters. They neglected to see what was in plain sight. There are certain beings, in your world and the next, that no longer seek protection, nor see goodness behind your actions. They lost faith in you when they saw you lose faith in yourselves. I cannot say that you haven’t seen the error or your ways, that you haven’t been working to amend them, or that you are not working to ensure that slips do not happen again. What you need is balance, and I hope you’ve learned that. I think you forget that though you are the watchers, we watch you. Like any other, we need assurances that our knowledge would not be misused.”
“You honestly thought that we might abuse it?” Giles questioned.
“Honestly? Yes, yes we did. But you can’t honestly say that you didn’t have some reservations about your Council, as well. There are so many forces at work that we were unsure whether or not you’d been corrupted, but what we found was even more worrying…you corrupted yourselves. But now, we have faith in you once again.”
“If you thought us unworthy, then why give us a chance?”
“Because everyone needs a chance to prove themselves. If we and the Powers didn’t give anyone a second chance, then there would be no hope.”
“Hope for what?”
“Can it not be general?”
“It never is,” Wesley commented.
Celestas’s once soft smile was now replaced with one of concern. “There is but a slight problem, Mr. Giles. On the physical plane, your body was disturbed and removed from the plinth. You body is dying.” All the color drained from Giles’s face. “Time is of the essence, and if you go back now, we can amend the damage.” Before she could even finish her sentence, Giles began to make his way off the bridge. “Wait!” she called out. “Mr. Giles, there is more you need to know.”
Giles tucked the heels of his shoes into the stone below and skid to a halt. “But you said –”
“Because your body was disturbed, the knowledge you leave here with will be reduced. What you will have will be fragmented in your mind. It will gradually become more accessible as time passes, but regrettably there will be some loss, certain parts that will not be transferred into your mind.”
“What of the knowledge that won’t be transferred to me?”
“If it is essential, you will find it, and the key to it will be in your mind. When you leave here, stand upon the plinth at the end of the bridge and our knowledge will be transferred as your mind is reintegrated with your body.” Celestas looked at Wesley. “And now for Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, answers. As you probably deduced, Mr. Giles’s trial was as much about you as it was about him.”
“I figured that much, but I still don’t fully understand why?”
“You overcame so much in your human life, and the fact is, you died with a near-balanced life. Something that is rarely achieved by a mortal. Yes, balance is essential, but there was still much you needed to learn in order to truly rest.”
“And I couldn’t have learned my lesson before now? No offense, Rupert, nice to see you again and all.”
“Thank you,” Giles replied sarcastically.
“Fate has a way of interlinking with others,” Celestas explained enigmatically. “It was simply your fate to cross paths with Mr. Giles again. You two know better than any that death is never the end. Your gift, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, is ascension to the highest plane of existence. True Heaven.”
Celestas looked to her right to see a young woman with long, flowing brown curls walk towards them. As she came closer, a large set of angelic wings sprouted out of her back.
“True Heaven?” Wesley uttered, his eyes focused on the Angel.
“There are many Heavenly planes, but the one you’re destined to go to now is one of great beauty and resolve. It is the highest plane attainable, reserved only for a select few,” Celestas told him.
Wesley’s face grew sad and cold as he turned to face Celestas. “I can’t rest, not truly. I’m not complete. I never will be.”
Celestas took a step forward and placed her tiny hand on Wesley’s arm. “You believe her soul to be destroyed, but The Powers would never allow one of such purity to succumb to such evil.”
The Guardian bowed her head, “Her soul was broken, tortured and weakened to the point that it could not bare – the Powers would not bare. Her spirit’s energy was used to fuel the Old One’s return, but at the precise moment her body lost the war, the smallest breach was made, enabling her soul to be set free. It was also in this breach that Illyria assumed control. Winifred’s soul was so badly damaged that it has taken time for her to heal. That is the reason she could not have been with you. But now you can go to her. Now you can rest, together.”
Tears fell from Wesley’s eyes as he tried to speak, “I thought…I thought she was gone…”
The angel extended her hand. “Come,” she said softly.
Shakily, Wesley began to lower his hand into hers, but then, at the last moment, he curled his hand into a ball and pulled it back. Wesley turned around to face Giles, who smiled plainly back at him.
Wesley walked over to Giles, a true smile beginning to shine on his face.
“So,” Wesley grinned.
“So,” Giles reiterated.
“Yes, so much is for sure”
“But it’s been a pleasure,” Giles said.
“No, the pleasure has been all mine,” Wesley stated.
Simultaneously, the two men offered hand shakes. Each stammered, having to change hands as the other did the opposite. In the end, they stopped, and with a smirk Giles and Wesley instead pulled each other into a clinch, patting each other on the back. They pulled away and exchanged a nod.
“Well, time’s pressing on. Miles to go, many roads to walk down and all that. Haven’t you got a life to get back to?” Wesley joked.
Giles smiled. “Yes, yes I do.”
Wesley beamed, and, with a reassuring bow of his head, he backed away from Giles. “Take care, old friend. Please, take care.” He clasped his hands together in prayer before turning to Celestas and the angel.
“Wesley,” Giles called out. The younger watcher looked over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Wesley smiled and gave a final nod. “You’re welcome. Oh and, umm…congratulations,” he grinned, arching a brow as he turned to the angel. Giles stood in the background, slightly bemused.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Am I ever.” As Wesley took her hand, a ray of sparkling silver light shone down upon him and the angel. He stared up into the light with a curl of his lips. Wesley closed his eyes as the light intensified, and at its peak it engulfed him and the angel. When it faded away, they were gone.
Giles blinked the dancing spots away from his eyes. With a slight smile, he turned to Celestas. Their eyes met once more, neither one of them sure what to say, or even if there was anything to say.
Giles spoke plainly and sincerely. “Thank you, for everything.”
She cracked a smile. “I think it’s I who should be thanking you. I haven’t had company in ages. Seriously, you do a great service, and none of us would be where we stand without you. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce is correct, you’ve got a life to get back to – lives.”
The watcher bowed before the Guardian and, without a second look, turned and walked back over the bridge, leaving Celestas standing alone behind him. Giles reached the plinth and stepped up on it, facing back down the bridge. Releasing a small breath, he closed his eyes.
Watchers Council – Infirmary – Night
Giles’s eyes opened wide, then squinted closed again as the harsh, fluorescent light overwhelmed his vision.
“Oh my god, Rupert!” Becca cried out in elation. She wriggled free from Buffy’s hold and flung her arms around him, tears streaming down her face.
Shaking, Buffy put her hand to her chest in relief and looked up at the white ceiling.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
She turned to Willow, who was equally overcome by her emotions, and the pair pulled themselves into a hug. A larger set of arms then folded around the two women. It was Xander, his eyes swollen and red.
“But… but how…” Dr. Miller stammered, at a loss for words, “Willow…I mean, Miss Rosenberg.” He got the red-eyed witch’s attention. “Did you?”
Willow shook her head as best she could while locked in Xander’s bear hug. “No…it’s a miracle.”
Utterly stunned, Dr. Miller took off his glasses and placed them in his coat pocket. “Yes…it is.”
Rowena stood on the other side of Giles’s bed, her mascara now trickling down her cheeks. With the back of her hand she wiped the tears away and placed a hand on Giles’s shoulder.
“I thought we’d lost you there,” she rasped.
A crowd gathered around Giles’s bed. Becca clung to his neck. Giles’s eyes, however, scanned the crowd for a face. His head moved from side to side as he tried to see around the crush of loved ones.
As someone moved to one side, the crowd parted and Giles’s eyes landed on Wesley, smiling softly as he stood at the back of the room by the open door.
The two watchers stared at each other and a smile appeared on Giles’s face, his own eyes becoming teary, but also laden with pride, warmth and strength. As they stared at one another, Wesley’s image began to fade away into the ether. Giles watched until he was gone. A single tear formed in the corner of his eye and fell, coursing down the curvature of his face, tapering on his chin and dripping onto his sheets.
Faith atood off to one side, her arms folded, her face showing relief that Giles was safe. She noticed his faraway gaze. She studied his face and curiously followed his stare to the back of the room by the door. There was no one there, but the ajar door closed as a slight cool breeze wafted out of the room. Faith looked at the door with an unsure frown, then turned back to Giles, his smiling face still turned towards the closed door. She couldn’t help it. She smiled, too.
Giles blinked, and, with a breath, he suddenly became aware of Becca and the others around him.
Becca pulled herself away from his body and looked down into his eyes, placing her hand on the side of his face. Giles looked back at her. He reached up and brushed a strain of her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. He pulled her tightly into an embrace and buried his head against hers.
Fade to Black
Special Guest Stars
Alexis Denisof as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, David Boreanaz as Angel and Amy Acker as Winifred Burkle and Illyria
End of Ouroboros
Check out the two-part finale teaser for Shomer and Megiddo below…
Next on Watchers…
In Part One of the Watchers season three finale, an angel visits with tidings of great doom, and soon every member of the Council will find themselves on the front lines of a desperate fight to save both Cleveland and the world from the biggest threat yet.