My
Beloved Pet
by
Anne
Part
1
*****
Giles received a violent blow to the back of his neck and fell to his knees,
moaning with pain and seeing stars. He suddenly felt an ice cold hand closing
around his neck and fingers of steel squeezing tightly. He began to choke, and
sucked up the cold air attempting to breathe. His face was turning purple as
he fought for breath. He was suffocating, dying. Still he was not ready to give
up, to die like this. With a last burst of anger-fuelled determination, he kicked
the vampire, who immediately increased the pressure on his throat. The Watcher
was beginning to pass out, when the hand choking him loosened. Through a grey
veil of oxygen deprivation and corneal pressure, he vaguely saw Xander hitting
the vampire who had tried to strangle him, punching him hard in his game face.
The boy was roaring: "No one hurts my Giles!"
"My Giles…" the Englishman whispered, smiling; so very happy, so very content
and so very fulfilled to be Xander's lover, to be HIS completely; body, mind
and soul.
Giles suddenly cried out in surprise when another vampire lunged at him, grabbing
him around the throat again. He tried to react, but the undead was just too
fast and too strong for him. He felt his air passage being cut off and swung
at the vampire. The vampire responded immediately, driving an upper cut punch
into the human's stomach. Giles doubled over in pain and slumped to the ground,
allowing his assailant to hold him on his knees. The evil creature showed his
fangs and sank them into Giles' neck. He gave a violent start and let out a
cry of pain as the evil creature started to drain him. Giles' vision was greying,
blurring, but he refused to give up the fight. He swung at the vampire, catching
him right across the jaw. The yellow-eyed demon growled in rage and punched
Giles in the head with both fists, then lifted him into the air and threw him
to the ground. Giles howled in pain as his head smashed into a tree behind him.
He collapsed heavily in the mud, unconscious.
*****
Xander looked around and saw Giles lying on his back near a tree. He looked
deathly white in the moonlight, and he wasn't moving. Xander rushed towards
the man he loved, sank to his knees beside his prone form and pressed his fingers
to the side of his neck that the fangs had pierced. A little blood had stained
the collar of his shirt. He found the pulse, which was strong and regular, and
sighed in relief.
Giles slowly regained consciousness some minutes later; the first thing he became
aware of was his pounding headache, and then the hardness of the ground under
him. He wanted to stand up but couldn't. He felt completely drained. Xander
knelt down next to him, his face worried, and smiled weakly at him.
"I'm… all right. I just have another concussion, a big bump on my poor head,
and two holes in my neck. Vampires?"
"Dusted. I'm pretty good with a stake now."
"Buffy?"
"She's kicking more vampire ass somewhere in the cemetery. I told her I would
bring you back home and take care of you… can you get up and walk, Giles?"
"I don't know."
Once upright, everything began spinning around him. He was assailed by a wave
of dizziness and nausea so intense that his legs began to buckle and he started
to fall. The blood was pounding in his head. He felt his body flush and he broke
out into a cold sweat that drenched his clothes in seconds. Xander caught him
before he could hit the ground.
"I believe that I'm going to carry you, Watchermine," he said to Giles, before
the older man lost consciousness again.
*****
Giles' place, later, in the bathroom.
Xander placed a bandage on the two holes left by the vampire's fangs in Giles
neck, then examined a bump the size of an egg which Giles had on his temple.
It was already a mottled red and purple.
"Nasty bump you've got there, slave," he said, worried.
"Don't worry, Master. I'm quite accustomed to being hit on the head. It's nothing,
really."
"You're sure?"
"Yes I am, my Master."
The boy put a little anti-inflammatory cream on it with his finger, making the
Watcher grimace with pain.
"Shhh… it's almost done. There… now be a good boy and strip of your clothes
and get into the bathtub. You're covered with mud and need to be cleaned up."
Giles complied gladly, desperately trying to forget his very painful headache
and awful nausea. Once he was in the bathtub, Xander turned on the shower and
started to wash Giles gently, sponging him down from head to toe, taking special
care with his genitals. Then Xander pulled him out of the shower and told him
to stand still while he towelled him dry. Giles nodded and let his Master dry
his hair with the towel. He usually enjoyed letting himself be showered, just
like a child, but this time he was in no fit state to enjoy it. His headache
had become unbearable. He felt so very weak. Suddenly he fell to his knees.
"No, pet, get up," said Xander smiling fondly, thinking the other man was on
his knees to thank him for taking care of him. "You don't need to thank me this
time. You are my beloved pet; I have to take care of you."
Giles got up painfully then rushed towards the toilet and vomited in it until
his stomach was empty and his eyes watered. When he stood up, his head was spinning.
He could feel the blood pounding at his temples and his heart thumping against
his ribs as if he had just run a marathon, and lost. His legs buckled under
him. He dropped to the floor in a boneless heap.
"Oh God! Giles!"
Xander knelt beside Giles and gently turned him onto his back. For the second
time that night he checked the Watcher's vital signs. His airway was open; his
breathing shallow and rapid, his pulse was weak and also rapid. His skin was
clammy and greyish. Xander took his lover's hand in his and called his name,
but Giles didn't move.
"I'll be right back!" the boy said before getting up. He then rushed into the
living room to call 911.
*****
Sunnydale General Hospital, later.
Dr. Peterson entered the crowded waiting room, his face grave. He glanced at
the tall, well-built, dark-haired young man there who was pacing nervously near
the front door.
"Mr. Harris?"
Xander abruptly stopped walking and then ran towards the physician. He immediately
asked: "How is he, doctor? Is he going to be OK?"
"Are you related to Mr. Giles?"
Xander paled and shivered. "No, I'm his… friend. Why? What is happening, doctor?
Is it serious? Is Giles… ?"
Paul Peterson shook his head. "He's not dead, yet."
"Yet?" Xander croaked, horrified.
Mr. Harris, you must know that your friend has had numerous concussions and
even severe head traumas in the last two years. They weakened his skull and
his brain. The blow he received to his head earlier has had serious consequences,
I'm afraid. Mr. Giles is in a coma. He is totally non-responsive to stimuli,
his pupils are dilated and non-responsive to light, and his EEG readings are
flat. In other words, he has massive brain damage."
"But he's still alive? "
"Yes, but barely. You should warn your friend's family of what has happened
to him, and as soon as possible. I am really sorry, but he's dying."
Xander nodded, dumb, unable to think or feel. "Giles' parents are dead and he
has no family left except an uncle living in Australia. May I see Giles, please?
"Not yet, he's still in ICU. Later."
Dr. Peterson walked away. Xander slumped in a chair and buried his face in his
trembling hands. He sobbed, finally realizing Giles was dying, that he was going
to lose him.
*****
Giles' room, the next morning.
Buffy pulled a chair up near the hospital bed on which Giles was lying; white,
cold and unmoving, as though he was already dead. That impression was reinforced
by the fact that, even after a few hours, her Watcher's face already looked
sunken and older than it should. Wires and tubes connected him to different
machines, which buzzed and flashed. To help him to breathe a plastic tube had
been pushed in his mouth and down his throat. Buffy turned to Xander, who was
sitting in an armchair near the window. He was pale and tense. His eyes were
red, puffy and wet. He had been crying.
"I love him, Buffy," the boy said, with a voice hoarse with sorrow.
Buffy nodded. "Yes I know. I love him too."
Xander shook his head. "You have a daughter's love for Giles, but I don't love
him like a surrogate father."
The Slayer blinked at him, then gaped at Xander, more than astonished.
"Xander… you're in love with Giles?"
"Yes, and he's in love with me, too. We have been lovers for two weeks now,
Buffy." Tears rolled down his cheeks again and he muffled a sob. "I love him
so much. I don't want to lose him…"
"You won't lose him, Xander," Buffy said decidedly. "He's going to stay alive
and he'll feel fine shortly."
The boy shook his head in distress. "That's not possible, Buffy. He's dying."
Buffy smiled soothingly. "He'll pull through, Xander. I just know he will. And
I know how."
*****
Rollo's bar, downtown Sunnydale, later.
Buffy knew that Ethan Rayne liked going for a beer in the seedy bars of Sunnydale
mostly frequented by the demons and vampires who had managed to escape her.
She discovered him in the sixth bar she visited. She spotted the sorcerer leaning
on the bar, a glass of beer in his hand, and headed towards him.
Ethan Rayne sipped at his beer, wiping the foam from his lower lip with the
back of his hand, then raised his eyes towards the big mirror placed just in
front of him, on the other side of the bar. It reflected an image of the smoke
filled seedy bar room, crammed with customers. Most of them were vampires and
demons, call girls and the down on their luck. Some of the human patrons who
weren't drunk were dead, drained. Two vampires had tried to bite him when he
arrived, but the magical force field which protected him had dusted them. Nobody
had approached him since, except the barman.
Taking another mouthful of beer, Ethan frowned. Almost all of the customers
were suddenly hurling themselves towards the back door, frightened and panicked.
Then he saw Buffy's reflection in the mirror and whispered:
"Uh! Oh! Trouble."
Intending to run, he was caught by Buffy who moved faster than he could see
and grabbed him by the arm. She sent him slamming against the closest wall.
Breathlessly, Ethan collapsed, moaning with pain. Buffy was on him before he
had time to make even the slightest gesture. She closed her hand around his
neck and began to choke him. Ethan tried to get free by punching Buffy in the
stomach. The Slayer grunted and increased the pressure on the sorcerer's throat.
"Calm down Ethan! I'm not here to beat you to a bloody pulp, well not yet. I
need your help."
When Ethan began to suffocate, Buffy loosened her grip on him. He immediately
collapsed onto the floor, his face purple, panting. The slayer grabbed the sorcerer
by his hair and dragged him to his feet.
"Giles is in a deep coma and he's dying. I want you to use your magic to save
him. Can you do that?"
Ethan nodded.
Buffy grinned. "Good! Do it and I promise to let you go after that, intact.
Let's go!"
*****