#if you appreciate the watcher guys shout it loud!!

[thatonegeekygirl]

hey, you there! fellow watcherina!

reblog this if you love ryan, steven and shane, and their art. if you appreciate all the effort and care they've put into their creations over the years. if you are rooting for them. if you see them for the human beings they are. if you remain a fan, and will continue to support watcher!

[renwyck]

Blood in the Dark

[ The third and final part of a roleplay between @emma-tidesinger and myself. ]

[ Into Whisper Gulch | Assessing the Threat | Blood in the Dark ]

A soft shuffling drew Renwyck's attention to the mouth of the mine, shadows flitting across the dirt floor. The fallen watcher muttered a curse beneath his breath as his gaze followed the shifting silhouette. 

Please be a donkey. Please be a donkey.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his greatsword as he readied the blade.

The shuffling wasn't something Emma had taken notice of. 

Tink. Tink. Tink.

She was still working away at the saronite. The problem she was finding was that it was such a resilient form of metal.

‘Drain him. Then no one in here can bother you. No one in here can hurt you. No one can hurt you again.’

"Lalalalala not listening," she whispered to herself. There was no way she was going to drain Renwyck's life, presuming that was who the voices were talking about.

Plodding footfalls approached, a swipe of flame further illuminating the shadows. "Intruders!" a voice cried out in a thick dwarven accent.

"Definitely not a donkey," Renwyck replied before clenching his jaw. 

Three Explorers' League dwarves appeared in front of the mine, each brandishing a rusted pickaxe. Two carried torches while the third wore a miner hat with a brilliant light beaming from it.

Emma did hear that. Quickly getting up, she held her pickaxe up by her head, erect in the air. She clearly didn't know what she was doing with it, but she was arm!

"Maybe we should, uh, talk about this and consider going our own ways?" Emma suggested to the three dwarves, while staying a few paces behind Renwyck. "He has a very big sword, after all."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, I don't think these guys looks like the talking type," Renwyck replied. 

"You were sent to destroy us!" One of the dwarves called out with a deranged glint in his eye. He pointed the tip of his axe in Renwyck's direction. "Should we take'em, boss?"

The largest dwarf nodded, the beacon from his helmet bobbing in the darkness causing the fallen watcher to avert his gaze from the bright flash of light. His eyes regained focus to see the two cronies charging directly at him. 

"Well shit," Renwyck muttered as he caught the first dwarf's pickaxe on the edge of his blade.

Well shit was right.

For a moment as the combat broke out, Emma stood uselessly behind Renwyck, frozen in position.

‘Drain them. Drain them all!’

"No, I really don't think so," she muttered.

But she had to help. How could she help? Emma looked to the little pickaxe in her hand and thought better of that idea. That required her being close enough to hit them, which meant they were close enough to hit her, which meant a distraction to Renwyck. Looking around for anything to help, she saw her flashlight on the ground. "Oh!" She quickly squatted down, and then bounced back up, and aimed the flashlight into the eyes of those charging at Renwyck.

The dwarves staggered back at the beam of blinding light, both glancing away and leaving an opening for Renwyck. With a quick swing of his sword, the pickaxe flew from his attacker's hand to fall to the mine floor with a loud clatter. A second strike landed across the dwarf's torso, the mad miner joining his axe in a heap on the ground. 

One.

A second axe came crashing down toward the fallen watcher's head. Metal scraped metal as Renwyck lifted his blade to deflect the blow.

"Look out!" Emma shouted as the axe went towards Renwyck's head. Oh Tides. Oh Tides. I brought him here to die, she thought to herself, before another thought invaded.

‘Give in, and only your enemies will die.’

"No," Emma said. "Shut up. Just shut up." She closed her eyes tight and shook her head, hands clutched around her flashlight. It took her a moment to even remember she was holding the thing. When she did remember, she remembered how effective it had been the first time and shone it directly towards the second miner's face.

After his blow was parried, the dwarf shifted to the side, placing Renwyck between Emma and himself to block the beam of light. He had speed and agility on his side, a flurry of axe swings keeping the fallen watcher on the defensive. 

Emma's hushed words caused Renwyck to tense, though he didn't have the opportunity to spare a glance in her direction. His attention drifted between the two remaining foes, watching as the leader decided to join the fray. Gritting his teeth, the human anticipated a second attacker, yet as the enemy approached, the dwarf quickly veered to charge directly toward Emma.

Fortunately for Emma, she had enough of her wits remaining to see the dwarf charge, but towards her. With a startled shout, Emma did the first thing she could think of and biffed the flashlight with all of her might at the dwarf's face with surprising aim for her. She'd later consider it a fluke that it even made contact. As soon as her hand was relieved of the clunky source of light, she tried to throw herself out of the line of attack, but wasn't fast enough. The pickax caught in her arm, ripping through the layers of clothing that bundled over her, and catching in a good chunk of her skin, tearing the flesh. With a hiss of pain, she landed against the cavern wall beside the vein of saronite.

"Emma!" Renwyck called out as he thrust his own attacker back, giving him the opportunity to intercept the dwarf closing upon Emma. He was seconds late. A look of horror gave way to rage as he swung a crushing blow upon the leader's body, cleaving his axe-wielding arm from his shoulder. The dwarf spun to face the warrior, only to see a second swing wailing down upon him, Renwyck striking him down with a bestial cry. 

Two.

The final attacker took the opportunity to rush toward Renwyck's back.

Emma clutched the wound on her arm, blood staining the material around the tear in her clothing. Her left arm was useless by her side.

"Behind you!" she shouted, and dropped to her knees to grab a rock with her good hand. She took to throwing anything she could get ahold of at the back of the dwarf. Rocks. Pebbles. More rocks. Was that a piece of saronite? Maybe. More rocks.

The warning came in time, Renwyck turning to face the final deranged dwarf as his axe tore down toward the fallen watcher. Drawing up his blade, Renwyck deflected the strike. 

'Kill them all,' a whisper cut through the sound of steel against steel. 

"Gladly," he growled beneath his breath as he thrust his greatsword through the final dwarf's chest. A deathly still fell upon them, Renwyck's panted breath echoing through the hushed mine. The huffs were punctuated by the dwarf slipping from the blade to join his bloodied comrades upon the ground.

Three.

Emma slouched against the cave wall, letting out a ragged breath that gave way to a visible puff with the frigid temperatures of Northrend. Her eyes closed and she focused on the adrenaline she felt coursing through her. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, but even that wasn't enough to drown out the voices.

"Emma," Renwyck exhaled her name on a heavy breath. Turning to her, he rushed to her side. His sword falling to the ground, he knelt by her to assess her injuries. Hands clamping down upon her wounded arm to stop the blood loss, Renwyck whispered to her in a soft tone. "Stay with me, love. Stay with me."

Emma looked about, before focusing on Renwyck. There was a panic in her gaze, and it was unclear if it was shock, or if it was just the pure fright that was on display. "What if there's more?" she whispered. "What if I brought us here to die down here? What if they're all waiting for us and they won't let us leave?"

"Emma," Renwyck spoke firmly in an attempt to ease her panicked thoughts. Catching her gaze, he stared into her wide, blue eyes. His free hand reached up to brush her hair from her face. "You're going to drain enough of me to stop the bleeding. Then we're going to get that saronite and then we're going back to Westguard."

His words were not a suggestion, a resolute, matter-of-fact tone spilled forth as he devised the plan.

‘Do it! Take it. You'll be stronger. You won't need him. You won't need anyone.’

"No!" Emma abruptly shouted out, before clasping her hand to her mouth. She shook her head, staring at him with wide eyed horror. "I-I-I might take too much."

"You won't," Renwyck replied. "I won't let you."

Trembling, she put her hand on his shoulder, and there was a moment she seemed to debate it. Her head shook. "N-not here. It can wait. It'll wait. It's not fatal. It's-- I-I'll survive. Just, let's get this and go. I don't trust it. Not here." The voices told her to take. She could only imagine what the voices were telling him. If they both listened, it'd result in one of them being dead.

He studied her face for a moment, eyes silently pleading with her in the light of the discarded flashlight. Yet he conceded with a nod. "Alright. Keep pressure on it. If you pass out, we're both as good as dead." Standing from her, he glanced to the vein of saronite she had been carefully trying to free from the stone wall. "How perfect does the sample need to be?"

"I'll let you know if I feel like I might. I know you'll catch me, worst case scenario." Despite his words about being as good as dead, she had faith that he'd get them back safely. It may be without the sample, but it'd be safe.

Her head shook. "Not perfect. I just need a pure chunk. Small enough to fit into the jar there, but, not too small that it's just a few tiny pebbles."

With a sharp nod, Renwyck hooked a foot under one of the dwarves pickaxes. Kicking it up, he caught it mid air and swung it down upon the ore. With the single strike, a chunk of saronite splintered from the stones, falling at Emma's feet. Quirking an eyebrow, he glanced to Emma with a half shrug. "You loosened it for me," he said with a smirk.

"Tell me again why I didn't have you dig for the sample to begin with?" Emma asked, getting up to her feet as she kept her hand clasped over the wound, pressure applied.

"No clue. You're supposed to be the smart one."

Emma let her jaw hang open for a moment, before she gave him a partial grin. "I blame the cold."

Squatting down, she reached with the hand of the arm that was injured, and picked up the saronite. ‘Kill him! Drain him! Take it all!’ the voices all but screamed in her mind the moment she picked the ore up, causing her to wince. Quickly, she dropped it into the jar with a plink! and screwed the top shut.

"Let's get out of here. One sample should do. This is potent. Not that we didn't know that but.. Tides. It's bad."

Licking his lips, he nodded once more. Snatching his greatsword from the mine floor, he took his place at Emma's side. "Pressure. You feel like you're going to black out, you tell me, yeah?"

[hamilkilo]

Safe Haven

Prompt: as requested by ANONYMOUS: Polysquad fic where the reader is super sweet and cute and innocent and the squad loves her with all their hearts and they have to defend her against TJeff because he was very rude to her. I just need some more protective squad in my lie Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad TW: derogatory names, slut shaming, fat shaming, bullying, sexual harassment, unwanted advances, cursing, violence, crying, mentions of panic attacks and hard of breathing, overprotective hamilsquad A/N: okay, I’m dipping into a personal experience that I’m hoping will work for this piece! Please, if someone treats you the way Thomas treats the reader, TELL SOMEONE! Get help! You deserve help! You deserve to feel safe! I love you so much! If you want me to tag something, please let me know! I want you to feel safe when reading my work! Please enjoy!! Word Count: 3053

You worked at your local coffee shoppe, fresh out of high school. You had graduated, and now you had all this extra free time over the summer and no money. The shoppe had just opened in the old town square they were trying to fix up, and because of your stellar personality and genuine kindness, you were hired on the spot. You actually liked your job. It was easy, and you loved talking to people! It’s where you actually met your boys, too! They were rowdy and loud, but they were so lively it made you laugh.

You did have bad days at your job, though. Sometimes, a boy from your old school would come by and hassle you. He’d always done it. He’d kick your stuff in class, call you names, the usual routine for bullies. You’d tried to get help, but the school staff was fairly useless. He would occasionally come by, tease you about your uniform. “I didn’t know they could make clothes for whales! How far we’ve come!” Ignorant, hurtful stuff like that. You’d never mentioned it to the boys. You didn’t want them to get involved. It wasn’t a big deal; it was just ridiculous high school stuff. You’d ignore him and give him your best customer service, and he’d eventually leave. Today, however, seemed to be different. For starters, the shoppe was about to close, and all the other workers had gone home. It was only you finishing up. Thomas came into the shoppe a little different. He was a little more surly. It was later at night, and considering he smelled like the floor of a bar, he was probably piss drunk. “Well, look who’s in off the street corner! It’s my favorite, little slut! Y/N, I wish I could say you look good, but it’s a sin to lie…” he grinned at you like a predator, and you dug your fingernails into your palm, but remained calm. “Can I get the Mud Puddle? I don’t know, you remind me of a little piggy, and it makes me thirsty for one of those.” He leaned on the counter and raked your body up and down when he ordered, not once meeting your eyes. You felt bare in front of him. Vulnerable. You bit your lip, but forced a smile and your sweet, customer service. He was a person after all, whether he treated you like one or not. And you really needed this job. “Can I get you anything else?” You forced through your fake smile. “Ah, look at you. Such a diligent whore. Well, maybe when you get off…” he leaned forward so that he was right next to your ear. You could feel his hair tickling your cheek, and it sent shivers down your spine. You could smell the liquor on his breath. “You could suck my dick.” He pulled away and grinned at you again. You had dropped your smile, and your face was red. You had a deep blush seeping down your neck. You wanted to throttle him, but you couldn’t. He was so much bigger than you. He slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter, but you couldn’t move. “Keep the change, Y/N,” he winked at you before he strode away to wait for his drink. You mechanically ran his bill, but you stared at the change in your hand. You’d just have to give it back. You were not a whore, and you definitely would not let him treat you like one. You made his drink, his words rolling through your mind like a dark tornado. You curled your fingers around the money, and you grabbed his drink in your hand. He had ordered the Mud Puddle hot, like some nerd. You did your best not to storm over to him. He had sat down at a table, and his eyes tracked your every movement. When you reached the table, you opened your fist and let the bills and change clatter into the table top. “I appreciate the tip, but I’m afraid I can’t accept it,” you murmured, eyes on the money. You couldn’t look him in the eye. “Y/N, really, take it.” You had gone to put his coffee on the table, but he had grabbed some money in his hand and was trying to hand it to you, and you were too awkward and embarrassed to pay attention, and he was too drunk to react, and now your skin was on fire! The coffee had spilled all over you, and the cup toppled to the floor. He had accidentally knocked it out of your hand. You let a few curse words tumble from your lips, your white shirt now blotchy and stained. “Shit, sorry!” You’d never heard Thomas apologize before. He must be shitfaced. You didn’t say anything, you rushed to the back room where there was a sink and dish towels. You began to splash cold water on your shirt. You hissed, your skin stinging from the burn. That coffee was really hot. Not McDonald’s coffee hot, but close. You felt tears welling in your eyes, but you bit your lip and repressed them. There was a hand on your shoulder, and to your disgust, it was Thomas. “Now you have to take the money, Y/N,” he slurred as he began to roughly stuff the bills down your shirt. You squealed and swatted his hands. “Don’t touch me!” Your voice wavered as you backed away. You didn’t want him anywhere near you. He made your skin crawl. “Come on, would a hug make it better?” He began to move towards you, reaching, and your heart began to race. “Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!” You cried, your voice a little stronger, as you backed out towards the till. He followed, not relenting. “Stop! Don’t touch me! Seriously!” Your voice was now a little harsher. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Your back pressed against the counter of the till, and you were cornered. He gave you a lopsided grin before he pulled you into his arms. A shiver of disgust ran down your spine as his hands roamed, and he felt you up. You quickly pushed him away, but he still had you cornered. You had nowhere else to go. “Please, don’t,” you whispered, and your voice cracked. “Y/N!” You heard a voice shout, and you glanced over your shoulder to see your four boys rushing through the door. When they saw the predicament you were in, they froze, and Alex’s fists balled up. “So that’s it? That’s why you come home so late?” His voice was calm and collected. Never a good think from someone that spent their free time shouting. The real reason you came home late was because you had to stay late to clean up and sometimes cry after a visit from Thomas. He always had something mean to say, but he had never put his hands on you before. “I…” You couldn’t find your words. You didn’t want to tell them. It was your problem, not theirs. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with the enemy,” Alex’s voice was cold. The others just looked on, not interrupting, just watching. “You always seemed a little too friendly-” That caused something in you to snap, and you began to cry. Thomas had always called you a whore, and you’d ignored him. But now, Alex? One of the loves of your life? He went on to say something else, but Laf was quick to stop him. “Enough. I want to ‘ear from 'er.” All eyes turned to you. You had turned to face them, and Thomas used the opportunity to squeeze your ass. Hot tears trailed down your cheeks. You were humiliated and losing your boys. Would they even believe you? The school didn’t. The teachers didn’t. No one ever stood up for you! And he never stopped! Your head hung low, your shoulders slumped, and your mind ran out of control. “Get away from me,” you whispered to him. You could feel him pressing against the back of you and it made you sick to your stomach. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” You were in hysterics. Too much was happening. You’d been nice for too long. Sometimes, you just can’t kill with kindness. “Y/N-” Laf began to say, but you had lost it. You shoved Thomas roughly before you hopped the counter. You knocked a plate of muffins off, causing glass and crumbs to fly. You slid to the floor, glancing from face to face. You finally looked at Alex, who was absolutely fuming. “I didn’t cheat. I swear, it’s not-” “It’s not what it looks like, right?” He mocked, and Herc put a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to be calm. “I-I…” you couldn’t breathe. “He… uh…” “She’s a whore! I know that, you know that! Have you seen the way this beached whale dresses? Fresh off the street corner chic! Probably gets her clothes out of the dumpster behind Weight Watchers! She’s a little full of herself if you ask me. How much do you guys pay her? Because apparently one hundred bucks is too cheap for a blowjob,” Thomas ranted, and you crumpled. You slumped down and hugged your chest. Now they knew. They knew all the horrible things Thomas would say to you. It was humiliating. You felt so small. “What the fuck did you just say?” Alex’s voice was low, and angry. He glanced at you. “Y/N, is this true?” “Are you asking if I’m a whore?” You wept, and suddenly, a pair of arms were around you. From the height and build, you knew it was Lafayette. He pulled you against his chest, and he gently stroked your hair. “He… he said stuff like that to me… e-every day, Laf… he…. he never leaves me alone,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt and wheezing. You were on the brink of a panic attack. “Mon ange, why didn’t you tell us?” He whispered to you as he gripped you tighter. “B-because no one ever believes me… and… and today,” you paused to try to catch your breath, “I told him not to t-t-touch me…” you began sobbing even harder, “But he didn’t listen, Laf! And… and he violated me!” Your cries were animalistic as you wailed the last part. Laf pulled you closer to him as you buried your head into his chest and began weeping. “You son of a bitch!” Alex cried out, and shortly after that, you heard the sound of skin on skin. Someone had punched someone. Thomas cried out in pain, and there was more clamor and shouting. Laf had slowly pulled you away from the glass. He eased you both onto the floor where he held you in his lap. “Shhh, we believe you, ma belle. Je souhaite tu nous a dit… I wish you told us,” he whispered as he ruffled your hair. He had calmed you down enough to get you to come out of his shirt. You looked over through blurry tears to see Herc having to haul John and Alex off of a black, blue, and red Thomas before they killed him. “'Erc, I think we should get 'er 'ome and in bed,” Laf murmured as you still wheezed. “I can’t… the shoppe…” you mumbled, taking in the mess. “We’ll take care of it and meet you back at the house,” John replied as he wiped blood from his split lip. Laf pulled you into his arms before he stood. He adjusted you so he could throw the keys to Herc before he fished yours out of your pocket. He carried you out of the shoppe and down the street to your car. He opened the door and gently eased you inside. He fastened the seatbelt over you before he got in on the driver’s side and buckled up. He started your car and slowly pulled out onto the road. “I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, able to breathe a little better. Laf looked over at you before looking back at the road. “For what? You 'ave done nothing wrong!” He reached out and took your hand in his. You were shaking from your panic, but he just gripped your trembling hand tighter. “I should’ve stood up for myself… I was just afraid… He had a bad rep at my school, and he’s been this way for so long… I just didn’t want to bother you, and now John has a split lip, and Alex is heartbroken, and all of this could’ve been avoided if I wasn’t so… so… 'friendly’.” You spat the word Thomas had used like a curse, fresh tears of anger welling in your eyes again. “Y/N, it’s not your fault. You told him to get away from you, we 'eard you, and he didn’t. You didn’t consent. You being kind did not elicit that! And, your kind 'eart is one of my favorite things about you, ma chérie,” he gushed, and you giggled. “I love 'ow kind you are. You are understanding of people, patient. Never think that that is a flaw. Kindness is not… 'ow you say? Ah, weakness!” He pulled into the driveway and parked before he shut the engine off and looked at you. He brushed away your tears with delicate, practiced fingers, and kissed you on the forehead. “You are beautiful…” you began to blush and look away, but he cupped your face and brought you back. “No, look at me. You are beautiful, sweet, kind, lovely, smart, funny, and perfect. We love you, d'accord? Je t'aime beaucoup. Tu es mon petit ange et je ne sorti pas. I love you, my small angel, and I’m not going anywhere. Okay? We aren’t going anywhere.” You sat like that for a few moments before he got out and led you into the house. You went into the closet and grabbed your pajamas while he rifled through the medicine cabinet for some burn cream. After you had changed, he unbuttoned the front of your pajama top and gingerly rubbed cream on the blotchy skin. You watched his face while he did so, and you closely admired his beauty. How did you get so lucky? You heard the garage door open, and the clatter of the boys coming in. “Y/N? Laf? We’re home!” Alex called, and Laf called a greeting back. They came into the bathroom, and Alex was quick to pull you into an embrace. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, truly I am. I’m an ass. I should never have doubted you, and I understand if you can’t even talk to me right now; I deserve it. I should’ve been there for you, but instead, I accused you. I made you cry, and I’m just so sorry,” his voice cracked as he pressed you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around him. “I forgive you. Don’t worry; I know it looked compromising…” Alex scoffed, “Don’t even make it seem remotely like your fault. I was out of line-” “It’s fine, really. I’m okay,” you reassured him. After a pause, you spoke again. “I’m getting burn cream all over you.” “That bastard burned you?!” Alex quickly pulled away from you and held you at arms length. There were obvious burns down your front. He gritted his teeth, and his hands tightened on your shoulders. “Lets go, John. I’m killing him!” He turned to grab John, but you grabbed his wrist. “It was an accident!” You explained quickly. “He didn’t mean to. We bumped into each other! He wasn’t trying to hurt me!” Alex stood there for a minute, an obvious debate happening in his mind. Then he sighed, “i still wanna kill him, though.” “I know,” you admitted, and he gave you a small smile. He pulled you against him again while Laf began to treat the split lip John had. Herc rubbed Laf’s shoulders from behind while he worked, and Alex whispered sweet nothings to you. After a while of standing in the bathroom, everyone had finally gotten ready to go to bed, and Herc dragged you with him. He fell back into bed, pulling you with him. You giggled as he pulled you up on his chest and put his arms around you. “I will never, ever let that creep put his hands on you, okay? I promise. You call me if he ever shows his face there again. Even if you’re driving on the other side of town and you see him, you call me. I’ll be there. I won’t let him near you, baby.” “Thank you,” you whispered as you grabbed his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. John crawled up next to you and trailed a hand up and down your thigh, not sexually, just affectionately. “Yeah, if he even thinks about breathing near you, call me, and I’ll come beat the shit out of him. I’m so sorry we didn’t earlier. He’s never coming near you again. We aren’t going anywhere. We’ll protect you, always. Just give us the word.” You turned to him, and he was looked up at you. He gave you a grin, which caused him to wince because of his lip. You leaned forward and gently kissed him. “I love you.” You whispered. Laf and Alex were the last ones to join. Alex crawled over and curled up on John before Laf threw an arm over them both and spooned his little spoons. “I’m serious, Y/N. If you need anything, no matter 'ow small, please, s'il vous plaît, tell us. We will be there, no questions asked. Nous t'aimons. We love you. We want to protect you,” Laf whispered as his eyes burned into yours in the dark. “I love you guys,” you whispered as your heart swelled. After no one believing or defending you for so long, you had a group of protectors. “We want you safe,” Alex murmured. The other boys hummed in agreement. You curled up on Herc’s broad chest as he softly stroked your back. You reached out and held Alex’s hand as John continued rubbing your leg. Laf’s hand found your hair, which he softly played with, and in a safe havens you drifted to sleep.

[jennycalendar]

imperfections (46/?)

read it on ao3!

i have had a bit of a mess of a last two days but at least i polished up a chapter!! that’s good

Giles knocked on the door, then waited. Faith didn’t answer, which was unusual. Generally, if she wanted to be left alone, she was rather vocal about it. “May I come in?” he called.

Five seconds passed. Then he heard Faith say, “Sure,” in a shaking voice.

Well, then. Giles warily opened the door, and was extremely surprised to see Faith sitting on her bed, hugging a pillow. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she seemed quite unaware of them. “Faith,” he said softly.

Faith looked up at him. She didn’t make any attempt to wipe her eyes or look composed, just said, “Can you sit with me?”

Feeling very much out of his element, Giles obliged. “I’m sorry if we’re ruining Christmas,” he joked nervously.

Faith shook her head, chin resting on the slightly damp pillow. “It’s not that,” she said. “It’s just that—the other stuff that’s been going down, with Mrs. Post and the band candy and, and that Pete kid—I could help with that stuff, at least a little. But I can’t with this, ‘cause I wasn’t here for it, and I don’t like that Jen helps me but I can’t help her.”

Giles took another look at Faith, startled. His first impression of her had been a reckless, impulsive Slayer who cared about little else but the thrill of the fight. He was beginning to realize just how wrong that impression had been. “I,” he exhaled, “know how you feel.” Off Faith’s doubtful look, he said quietly, “I don’t know if Jenny told you exactly what happened last summer.”

“She said she got tortured by Angelus and you had to watch,” said Faith, eyes locked on the opposite wall.

Giles followed her gaze to the dark velvet dress hanging on Faith’s mirror. He chose his words carefully. “You’ll recall that the Council doesn’t take kindly to—ah—personal relationships,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I kinda figured something weird happened between them and you,” said Faith, frowning a little. “You don’t talk about them the same way my last Watcher did.”

“Yes. Um.” It felt a bit terrifying, being open and honest with—anyone, really, particularly anyone who wasn’t Jenny. “I-I was told,” Giles said, “by the Council, that my close connection with Jenny was putting her life at risk. And I loved her, so I left her, not a week after Angelus had tortured her and left her needing me more than ever.”

Faith let out a low whistle. “Wow,” she said, sounding genuinely impressed. “You really fucked up, huh?”

Giles exhaled, almost a laugh. “To put it mildly.”

“But you came back,” said Faith, and he felt her shoulder rest awkwardly against his. “Right? You didn’t just leave her in the lurch forever.”

“Faith, I missed an entire summer,” said Giles distantly, remembering the terrible, lonely feeling of waking up in a motel room with Jenny and the children miles away. “A summer that, by all rights, I should have been there to help her through. Seeing Jenny like this—seeing her so undone by Angelus’s return—it terrifies me, because I fear that she might have healed a bit more easily if I had been truly there for her. I’d happily kill Angel if it meant it would undo what my absence did to her.”

Faith was silent for a very long time. Then, without a word, she reached out, placing a hand quietly on Giles’s shoulder.

“You’re kinder than I would be,” said Giles, smiling bitterly at his lap.

“You’re here,” said Faith. “Now. You fucked up a whole bunch, leaving her when she needed you, but that doesn’t mean she needs you any less right now.”

Giles looked up and over at Faith, touched. “The same applies for you, you know,” he said. “She loves you very much, and I am beginning to very much understand why.”

Faith gave him a crooked smile. “Hey, right back atcha, Watcher-man,” she said, and punched his shoulder a bit too hard. Giles winced, but didn’t stop smiling.

Jenny was lying in bed when she felt the mattress shift, and then felt Rupert drape an arm across her stomach, fingers tracing her hip. She smiled, mouth trembling, and turned into his arms, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m really fucked up right now,” she said. “Like, I don’t—I can’t—if you guys are doing research, I don’t think I can be a part of it for a little while.”

“No, I know,” said Rupert gently. “And we will be doing research eventually, but you are my top priority. Whatever you need from me, Jenny, I’m here for you.”

“I think I just—need you—to hold me,” said Jenny, slow and halting. “I keep on, I keep on thinking about his hands on my neck, and—” She sniffled, trying to smile. “Nothing feels safe anymore,” she said. “Nothing. He looked at me like Angel and he grabbed me and threw me up against that wall and Rupert, I thought I was going to die—”

That same cold fury flashed momentarily in Rupert’s eyes, but then he kissed her forehead, pulling her very close to rest her cheek against his. “We can just stay here,” he murmured. “You and me, all the kids bunking in the living room, and to hell with the rest of the world, how’s that?”

Jenny hid her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled like home. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “Thank you for being here. And not going into one of your stupid terrible guilt spirals, because seriously, those suck for me.”

She felt Rupert’s quiet laugh. “Anything that helps you in this moment, I’ll do,” he murmured. “Though believe you me, I have every intention of spiraling as soon as you’re feeling at least a bit better.”

Jenny did feel better. She felt safe. And she really, really wanted to stay in Rupert’s arms for the next two days at minimum, but if Angel was unstable enough to attack her, he could end up seriously hurting someone else. After allowing herself a good few minutes of blissful stillness, she raised her head, nose brushing against Rupert’s, and said reluctantly, “We should get back to research.”

“Are you sure?” Rupert’s fingertip traced her cheek.

“I want to make sure that this thing messing with Angel doesn’t mess with us,” Jenny reminded him. “Time is, as always, of the essence.”

Rupert considered this. Then he said, “This summer, we’re going to go somewhere with sand and beaches, and you’re going to get the long-deserved vacation that an ordeal like this merits.”

“God, you really do love me if you’re willing to brave beach time,” Jenny teased, and Rupert’s grin in return made her feel all kinds of cozy and warm. “Okay.” She kissed him, a kiss that was meant to be short but slipped into a much longer, softer one than she’d intended. “Okay,” she whispered against his mouth, and kissed him again.

“Mm—Jenny, the, the research,” Rupert mumbled without much conviction, rolling onto his back and pulling Jenny on top of him.

“You’re such an enabler,” Jenny giggled, kissing his neck.

A loud hammering on the door broke them apart. “Faith!” came Willow’s reproving voice.

“HEY, JEN, ARE WE EVER GONNA ACTUALLY DO SOME RESEARCH?” Faith shouted.

Jenny groaned, trying not to laugh, and pulled herself reluctantly off of Rupert, who looked extremely annoyed at the interruption. Crossing the room to open the door, she realized belatedly that she was thoroughly rumpled, and winced, attempting to smooth down her hair.

“Classy,” said Xander. Willow whacked his shoulder.

“Rupert and I were just about to come out,” said Jenny, trying not to look too much like she’d been seriously considering having sex instead of researching. “We want to get a jump on the research too—”

“Uh, actually, we wanted to take this one by ourselves,” said Faith hesitantly.

“You guys have been through a lot this last year,” Willow added, “and all of it to keep us kids safe.”

“And you put in a whole bunch of hours of research to make sure we didn’t have to,” Xander finished. “We’re gonna call in Buffy, but—we wanted to give you guys a night off.”

“You know,” said Faith tentatively. “Like a Christmas present.”

Maybe it was just that Jenny was feeling pretty emotionally fragile after that whole almost-dying thing, but she felt very close to tears. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, that’s—god, that’s really sweet. Rupert, did you hear what they said?”

“I made some of it out, yes,” said Rupert, who looked similarly affected. “Children, you—you really don’t have to—”

“That’s what makes it a present!” Willow beamed. “Seriously, you two, you deserve to, uh—”

“Finish up what you were doing in there,” Faith said helpfully. Willow whacked her shoulder.

Jenny bit her lip, smiling, and looked up at Rupert. “What do you think?”

“I, um, think my Christmas presents to all of you won’t match up in the slightest to what you’re giving me,” said Rupert to the kids, tucking an arm around Jenny’s waist. His eyes were a bit misty. “Thank you,” he said. “We greatly appreciate it.”

Buffy was expecting to see Giles and Ms. Calendar in the library, and was therefore extremely surprised when she looked around and saw everyone but them. Willow, Xander, Faith, Oz, even Cordelia were all busily flipping through a thousand and one musty books (and, in Willow’s case, surfing the web). “Where are Giles and Ms. Calendar?” she asked, half-afraid of the answer.

“Taking a break,” Willow answered lightly, grinning. “My idea. We thought we’d give them an early Christmas present.”

“Five bucks says they’re back to getting all snuggly, if you catch my drift,” said Faith, and accepted Xander’s high-five.

“Ugh,” said Buffy, but she felt warmed. She couldn’t think of anyone who deserved a night off more than Giles, and him spending it with Ms. Calendar was definitely of the good. “Hey, you guys mentioned���something about Angel—?”

There was an awkward silence. Faith and Willow exchanged a nervous look, Oz went very still (stiller than usual, at least), and Xander glared determinedly at the book he was reading. Only Cordelia blinked, frowned, and inquired, “They didn’t tell you? Angel went all psycho on Ms. Calendar ‘cause he thought she was some kind of demon. Ms. Calendar might have gotten killed if Giles hadn’t shown up in time.”

Buffy stared. “But he’s…good,” she said weakly.

Xander very visibly bit his lip, but didn’t say anything.

“Buffy, that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous,” said Willow quietly. “We know he didn’t mean to hurt Ms. Calendar, but it was still really scary for her.”

Buffy swallowed, hard, then sniffled. “I really love him,” she said in a small voice. Faith’s face tightened at this. “And—and it sucks, because I—” She realized it, then, in that moment, looking around at all of her friends. As much opposition as they showed to the concept, she knew that if she went back to Angel, they’d eventually come around. And if he hurt them again, they’d still always forgive her. She couldn’t put them in danger like that. “Because I can’t be with him,” she finished, and for the first time, she completely meant it. “I won’t be with him again.”

Willow sniffled too, looking sympathetic and deeply sad. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” said Faith. Her face had relaxed, and she looked…happy? But in a guilty way, Buffy thought.

“I’m not,” said Xander, then winced. “But…I am sorry you’re hurting, Buff. It was a tough thing for all of us to go through. I just…really, really hate the guy.”

Buffy managed a wet laugh. “I mean, you weren’t exactly subtle about it, Xander,” she teased lightly. “So what are we researching?”