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summer_of_giles2015-07-02 10:44 pm
the-huffster.livejournal.com) wrote in summer_of_giles2015-07-02 10:44 pm
Entry tags:
Legacy (7/?)
Title: Legacy
Author:
the_huffster
Pairing: Eventual Buffy/Giles
Rating: Overall R/ This chapter PG
Setting: Completely AU- no vampires, demons, slayers, watchers, etc; I've also fudged some ages more for plot than anything else
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: When strange murders begin to appear in Sunnydale, all eyes are on loner Rupert Giles. Is Rupert's past repeating itself, or is there more than what's on the surface?
Author's Note: Wow, I know I said three chapters today but life man. This chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, mainly due to me running out of time. I know I said it last year, but this time I will post the rest of this fic on a free day. I want to get this one finished with so I can work on my next idea.
Author's Note #2: I know it says eventual Buffy/Giles, and I promise I'm getting there. I just needed to establish a few thinsg first.
He grinned proudly as he finished doing what his father had taught him. Of course, he had nearly sliced through his index finger but that’s what happened when a nine year old got his hands on a knife. It had been six months since his father had told them the family secret, and he wanted to show his father that he could be relied on. So he had watched his father make his stakes and once he was sure he knew how to do it, Rupert set about to make his very own stake.
It had taken nearly five days but after several attempts, he knew he had a perfect stake. He looked at the blood soaked gauze around his finger and sighed. There was no way he could keep that a secret. But he couldn’t get in trouble for it, right? It was proof that he really did believe his father; that he was willing to do whatever to be the best Slayer there was. He was dedicated, and dedication was always a good thing. That had to make up for the fact that he had stolen one of his father’s knives.
Rupert began taking off the old gauze, wincing at the deep cut that was still bleeding. He quickly put a fresh wrapping of gauze on his finger. If he could keep anyone from seeing it long enough, then he wouldn’t have to get stitches. He shuddered at the idea of having to get his finger stitched up. Once he was done with that, he picked the stake back up and smiled. It wasn’t perfect, but he knew it would get the job done when the time came.
“Rupert!”
He looked up towards the loft when he heard his brother’s voice, narrowing his eyes. He had let his brother go look through his closet for a shirt to wear since it seemed Declan didn’t own much in the way of clothing. When he heard his name again, Rupert got up and made his way up to his bedroom.
“You mind telling me why the hell you have this?” Declan asked as soon as the younger Giles was up the stairs.
Rupert felt his eyes widen and his breath catch in his throat when he saw his older brother holding the stake he had made when he was nine years old. His mind flashed back to the day he made it, the fingers of his left hand unconsciously curling when he thought about how he nearly cut his index finger off.
“Why are you holding on to this, Ru?” Declan asked again, this time with a little more force in his tone.
“I, um…” he took a deep breath and looked at his brother. “How did you find it?”
“I accidentally knocked down your box of fucked up history. Why did you keep all of that?”
Rupert shrugged and walked over to his brother, taking the stake from him and putting it back in the box he kept it in. He took a second to look in the box, taking in the various newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. He shook his head of the memories the items brought back and closed the lid.
“There’s nothing wrong with remembering your past, Declan.” He said softly before turning around to face his brother. “It might seem fucked up to you, but this…it helps me. Remembering those details is a lot better than finding ways to forget them.”
“What we went through isn’t something you should want to remember. Anything I had or came across that was about the Slayer, I burnt. Or ripped up or smashed or anything else to destroy it.”
“You always did have a thing for destruction, Dec.” Rupert pointed out as he walked back into the closet, putting the box back up on the shelf.
“Now you sound like Dad.” His brother said as he watched Rupert close the closet door. “And that makes me nervous now that I know you’re keeping a stake that you got brainwashed into making.”
Rupert rolled his eyes and sat on his bed, looking at Declan. He didn’t want to try and explain why he was keeping that box because he knew his brother would never understand. He didn’t go around advertising the fact that he had those things; he wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly how that would further influence people’s perspective of him.
And he didn’t look at it on a daily basis. For him, keeping that part of his past in a box gave him some type of control over it. Rupert had worked very hard to keep the flashbacks of those years from controlling his life and he had found that keeping things that triggered those flashbacks in a box allowed him to decide when those memories could come to him.
“I’m going to take that box and get as far away from you as possible.” Declan’s brought him out of his own head.
His head snapped up to look at him.
“No, you’re not.”
“Not only is keeping that weird, it doesn’t look good. Especially now, Rupert. A woman was found dead and people want to believe you did it.” The older Giles said as he stared at his brother. “I promised you that I would look after you no matter what. Now I know I’ve done a really shitty job of that since I ran away, but…”
“You don’t get to come back in my life after all these and just start making decisions for me!” Rupert cut him off as he got to his feet. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through, Declan. Not just with how others see me, but my own problems that have come from those years. I have tried everything under the sun to feel in control of those memories and when that didn’t work I nearly killed myself by taking every drug I could.
“So forgive me if keeping things that link me to our past gives me some sort of bloody control of my life. But I think that’s a hell of a lot better than being high every waking moment of my life.” Rupert ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Besides, sometimes the best thing one can do is accept where they came from.”
Declan just looked at Rupert, not wanting to say anything. The whole time his brother had been going off, there was just a small hint of something dangerous in Rupert’s green eyes. It was the same hint he had seen the night of their father’s death, the same something that had taken over their father.
“I’m sorry, Ru. I wasn’t trying to control your life. I’m just…I know how much Dad fucked you up, and I’m worried.” Declan said softly as he cautiously walked towards Rupert.
“I know, I just…” Rupert took another deep breath. He knew he had let himself get out of hand as he yelled at Declan. “I’m going to go for a run. I need to let off some steam.”
Rupert pushed pass his brother and went to his dresser, grabbing something to change into.
“I’ll be here,” Declan called after him as Rupert made his way down the stairs.
Author:
the_huffsterPairing: Eventual Buffy/Giles
Rating: Overall R/ This chapter PG
Setting: Completely AU- no vampires, demons, slayers, watchers, etc; I've also fudged some ages more for plot than anything else
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: When strange murders begin to appear in Sunnydale, all eyes are on loner Rupert Giles. Is Rupert's past repeating itself, or is there more than what's on the surface?
Author's Note: Wow, I know I said three chapters today but life man. This chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, mainly due to me running out of time. I know I said it last year, but this time I will post the rest of this fic on a free day. I want to get this one finished with so I can work on my next idea.
Author's Note #2: I know it says eventual Buffy/Giles, and I promise I'm getting there. I just needed to establish a few thinsg first.
He grinned proudly as he finished doing what his father had taught him. Of course, he had nearly sliced through his index finger but that’s what happened when a nine year old got his hands on a knife. It had been six months since his father had told them the family secret, and he wanted to show his father that he could be relied on. So he had watched his father make his stakes and once he was sure he knew how to do it, Rupert set about to make his very own stake.
It had taken nearly five days but after several attempts, he knew he had a perfect stake. He looked at the blood soaked gauze around his finger and sighed. There was no way he could keep that a secret. But he couldn’t get in trouble for it, right? It was proof that he really did believe his father; that he was willing to do whatever to be the best Slayer there was. He was dedicated, and dedication was always a good thing. That had to make up for the fact that he had stolen one of his father’s knives.
Rupert began taking off the old gauze, wincing at the deep cut that was still bleeding. He quickly put a fresh wrapping of gauze on his finger. If he could keep anyone from seeing it long enough, then he wouldn’t have to get stitches. He shuddered at the idea of having to get his finger stitched up. Once he was done with that, he picked the stake back up and smiled. It wasn’t perfect, but he knew it would get the job done when the time came.
“Rupert!”
He looked up towards the loft when he heard his brother’s voice, narrowing his eyes. He had let his brother go look through his closet for a shirt to wear since it seemed Declan didn’t own much in the way of clothing. When he heard his name again, Rupert got up and made his way up to his bedroom.
“You mind telling me why the hell you have this?” Declan asked as soon as the younger Giles was up the stairs.
Rupert felt his eyes widen and his breath catch in his throat when he saw his older brother holding the stake he had made when he was nine years old. His mind flashed back to the day he made it, the fingers of his left hand unconsciously curling when he thought about how he nearly cut his index finger off.
“Why are you holding on to this, Ru?” Declan asked again, this time with a little more force in his tone.
“I, um…” he took a deep breath and looked at his brother. “How did you find it?”
“I accidentally knocked down your box of fucked up history. Why did you keep all of that?”
Rupert shrugged and walked over to his brother, taking the stake from him and putting it back in the box he kept it in. He took a second to look in the box, taking in the various newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. He shook his head of the memories the items brought back and closed the lid.
“There’s nothing wrong with remembering your past, Declan.” He said softly before turning around to face his brother. “It might seem fucked up to you, but this…it helps me. Remembering those details is a lot better than finding ways to forget them.”
“What we went through isn’t something you should want to remember. Anything I had or came across that was about the Slayer, I burnt. Or ripped up or smashed or anything else to destroy it.”
“You always did have a thing for destruction, Dec.” Rupert pointed out as he walked back into the closet, putting the box back up on the shelf.
“Now you sound like Dad.” His brother said as he watched Rupert close the closet door. “And that makes me nervous now that I know you’re keeping a stake that you got brainwashed into making.”
Rupert rolled his eyes and sat on his bed, looking at Declan. He didn’t want to try and explain why he was keeping that box because he knew his brother would never understand. He didn’t go around advertising the fact that he had those things; he wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly how that would further influence people’s perspective of him.
And he didn’t look at it on a daily basis. For him, keeping that part of his past in a box gave him some type of control over it. Rupert had worked very hard to keep the flashbacks of those years from controlling his life and he had found that keeping things that triggered those flashbacks in a box allowed him to decide when those memories could come to him.
“I’m going to take that box and get as far away from you as possible.” Declan’s brought him out of his own head.
His head snapped up to look at him.
“No, you’re not.”
“Not only is keeping that weird, it doesn’t look good. Especially now, Rupert. A woman was found dead and people want to believe you did it.” The older Giles said as he stared at his brother. “I promised you that I would look after you no matter what. Now I know I’ve done a really shitty job of that since I ran away, but…”
“You don’t get to come back in my life after all these and just start making decisions for me!” Rupert cut him off as he got to his feet. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through, Declan. Not just with how others see me, but my own problems that have come from those years. I have tried everything under the sun to feel in control of those memories and when that didn’t work I nearly killed myself by taking every drug I could.
“So forgive me if keeping things that link me to our past gives me some sort of bloody control of my life. But I think that’s a hell of a lot better than being high every waking moment of my life.” Rupert ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Besides, sometimes the best thing one can do is accept where they came from.”
Declan just looked at Rupert, not wanting to say anything. The whole time his brother had been going off, there was just a small hint of something dangerous in Rupert’s green eyes. It was the same hint he had seen the night of their father’s death, the same something that had taken over their father.
“I’m sorry, Ru. I wasn’t trying to control your life. I’m just…I know how much Dad fucked you up, and I’m worried.” Declan said softly as he cautiously walked towards Rupert.
“I know, I just…” Rupert took another deep breath. He knew he had let himself get out of hand as he yelled at Declan. “I’m going to go for a run. I need to let off some steam.”
Rupert pushed pass his brother and went to his dresser, grabbing something to change into.
“I’ll be here,” Declan called after him as Rupert made his way down the stairs.