the_huffster: (Giles)
[personal profile] the_huffster
Title: Legacy
Pairing: Eventual Buffy/Giles
Rating: Overall R/ This chapter R
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?

Rupert laughed softly at something Buffy had said as he locked the door to the shop. The afternoon had been pleasant, more pleasant than he had thought it would be when Anya left. He had expected to be bombarded by questions and comments as soon as things had settled, but none of that had happened. Buffy had joked with him and talked about everyday things, and never once brought up what most people would have.

“Thank you again for helping,” he said as he turned to look at her.

“It’s no problem. It was actually pretty fun,” she gave him a smile. “I need to get going. I need to make sure I’m at work before my class shows up.”


“I teach martial arts to little kids. Of course, we call it self-defense around them. I’ll come by tomorrow if I have time,”

He nodded before wishing her a good night and turning around to walk towards his car. He couldn’t help but notice the stares that followed him. There was something different about these stares; they seemed more…angry and accusing then usual. Rupert shook his head slightly and ignored the looks and the whispers.

He pulled out his car keys and unlocked the driver’s side door, looking forward to going home and spending more time with his brother. As upset and hurt as he was about Declan having abandoned him all those years ago, Rupert was glad to have the chance to reconnect with him and rebuild their relationship. He had just opened the door when a hand reached over and slammed it shut while another hand forced him to turn around.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,”

Rupert narrowed his eyes when he saw three men in front of him, all giving him the same angry and accusing stare. He swallowed and leaned back against the car, not looking to get into a fight.

“I don’t…I don’t know…” he took a deep breath and looked at the three. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Keep an eye open, murderer.” One of them practically growled before shoving Rupert.

He grunted as his back slammed into his car. He didn’t move until the three men were completely out of sight, and even then he waited a few more moments. Once he was sure they weren’t going to come back, Rupert turned around and quickly got into his car. He started it and made his way towards his apartment.

It only took fifteen minutes for him to pull into his parking space at the complex, somewhat relieved that no one else was outside. As much as he had mastered ignoring the stares, after his encounter with the three men Rupert wasn’t sure how much more staring he could handle. He locked his car and walked down the steps leading to the patio outside his front door.

“You won’t believe what happened today,” Rupert said as soon as he walked into his apartment, his brother sitting on the couch as he watched the television.

“I already know,” Declan said as he turned to look at him.

“How do you already know?” he narrowed his eyes as he closed the door behind him.
“It’s all over the news, Ru.”

Rupert just looked at him, suddenly more confused than he should have been. It was suddenly very clear that they were talking about two different things.  He was about to ask what Declan was talking about when he noticed what was on the screen. There was a reporter standing in front of a clearing of trees, police tape blocking access into the area. Police cars were seen as officers moved in and out of the trees. Rupert slowly sat on the couch and reached for the remote, turning the volume up.

“For those just now tuning in, two joggers discovered the body of a young woman earlier today in Miller’s Woods. The victim has not yet been identified and police have yet to say if they have any leads to a suspect.” The reporter said. “Paramedics said that the victim died sometime in the early morning of a fatal stab wound to the heart. Exactly what weapon caused the wound has yet to be released. We’ll keep you updated on anymore details that get released…”

Rupert quickly turned off the television and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He thought back to the three men that had cornered him and their comments made sense. He felt the panic start build as he tried to recall anything from the night before, even though he knew it was pointless. He needed something that would let him know he hadn’t left his apartment.


His eyes snapped open when he felt someone shake him. He turned to look at his brother, fear evident on the younger Giles’ face. Declan sighed and shifted so he was facing his brother completely.

“Don’t get yourself worked up, Ru. People get murdered every day, but it doesn’t mean you did it.”

“There was a stab wound to the heart, Declan.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I checked everywhere after I heard that, and there’s no sign of any stakes.”

Rupert shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, stopping when his brother shook his head.

“You and I both know that if you did do that, you would still stick to what Dad had taught us. He brainwashed you enough for you to not forget anything.”

“If you’re going to slay a demon, either stake the heart with a wooden stake or decapitate them.” He muttered as he looked down at the couch cushions.

There was a moment of silence as Rupert tried to calm himself down. Declan was right; he didn’t murder the young woman. He couldn’t have. Declan would’ve been sleeping on the couch and would have heard him if he had left the apartment.

“Everyone thinks I did it.” Rupert said softly.

“Fuck them, Ru. If someone’s going to judge you based on what happened in the past, then fuck ‘em.”

Rupert looked up at his older brother before laughing softly.

“Come on, I saw a nice little bistro this afternoon when I was walking around. I want to try their food,” Declan grinned as he stood up.


Rupert grinned as he threw a small piece of food at Declan, quickly ducking his head to avoid the piece the eleven year old threw back. The two laughed as they continued throwing and dodging pieces of food. Their father had run out to get something just as dinner had finished. He hadn’t told his sons where he was going or when he would be back, but that had become normal.

“Alright, stop.” Declan laughed, picking up a piece from the table and tossing it into his mouth. “We have to clean up this mess after dinner.”

“It’s not a mess,” the nine year old said as he shoved food into his mouth.

He smiled at the eye roll his older brother gave. They ate quickly, silently challenging each other to a race to see who could finish their dinner first. Rupert focused on his plate and swallowed his last bite a few minutes later.

“Done!” he yelled, jumping off his chair and doing a small victory dance.


Rupert froze when he heard his father’s voice and looked at Declan with wide eyes. They just looked at each other until they heard their father yell for them again, telling them to meet him in the barn. The boys gave each other a shrug before racing each other out to the barn.

The nine year old laughed as he tried to give his brother a push as they came up to the barn. The two fumbled through the doorway, Declan grabbing his younger brother before he could fall. Their laughter continued until their father cleared his throat. He led them to the other side of the barn and around a small pile of hay bales.

Any enjoyment Rupert was having was instantly replaced with terror as he saw a woman tied to a post, duck tape over her mouth. She was struggling against the ropes as she looked at the three of them, fear in her eyes. Her makeup was running as she cried. The nine year old stood there as he looked at her. He knew there was no way he would be able to forget the look of terror in her eyes.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Declan asked in a small voice.

“You two are old enough to know the truth,” their father said as he turned the boys to look at him. “Demons are real, and our family is one of the select few that was chosen to rid them of this earth.”

“Are we angels?” Rupert asked.

He had paid attention during Sunday school, despite the fact that he would constantly get in trouble for seemingly not doing so. Angels fought demons; that was what he had been taught. Angels were sent by God to protect man from the demons that Satan had sent up from Hell.

“No, Rupert. There’s no such thing as God or Angels or Heaven. Just demons and Hell.” He turned Rupert and Declan back to look at the woman, pointing a finger at her. “She’s a demon.”

“Dad, that’s not a demon. That’s a human. A very scared human.” Declan protested.

“Don’t let the disguise fool you. They can look like us, but the chosen families can see beyond the human mask.” The older Giles explained as walked away.

Rupert looked back at the woman, wanting to tell her that it was all right. That she wasn’t going to be hurt. But his father had said she was a demon, and his father had never lied to him before.

“Once you two get older, you’ll be able to see the demons like me. I brought you out here to teach you how to slay her kind.”

The nine year old looked away to see his father holding a piece wood with a pointed tip. He knew what that was. He had seen enough vampire movies late at night to know a stake when he saw one. His eyes went wide as he watched his father walk towards the woman.

“You need to either remove the head or puncture the heart with a wooden stake.”

A sense of dread filled Rupert as his father knelt next to the woman. He didn’t hear a word that was said as he watched the stake go into her chest, a muffled scream leaving the woman.

He sat up in his bed as his heart raced. His hands went up to cover his ears as the screams of a dead woman echoed in his head. It took a few minutes but he had finally calmed himself down enough to pull himself out of the memory. Rupert took a deep breath and looked at his alarm clock, groaning softly when he saw it was only three in the morning.

There was no chance of him going back to sleep, not when he knew that he would have another vivid memory for a dream. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, his journal resting on the nightstand. Knowing his psychiatrist would want to know about the dream, Rupert grabbed the journal and set about writing down the memory.

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