[identity profile] vampirefever.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] darker_giles
Here are two older Giles drabbles I posted earlier this year.

Loss of Innocence (set pre-canon)

He stood in front of the imposing building and wondered how he'd come to this. How had he gone from the rebel, with not a care in the world, to the man standing with nothing left but to go through those doors?

At what point had youthful arrogance and fledgling power turned from being a celebration of life and freedom, to becoming a destructive force for evil? How had his love for Ethan blinded him to the lunacy of their actions?

He wished he knew but he didn't have any answers. He didn't have excuses. He didn't know if there was a point at which he could have prevented it from ending the way it had. The only thing he knew was that he was lucky to just be alive. But he'd paid a high price; he'd lost Ethan, lost his friends and lost his way.

Now he was back before the very thing he'd spent his life trying to escape. For one last time he tried to feel Ripper's anger - but no, it was long gone. With a sigh he entered the building, and felt as if something inside died as the Council doors shut firmly behind him.


Refuge (set at the end of 'A New Man')

Giles was angry. Furious. So damn mad he felt like killing someone – a particular someone. But that course of action had been taken away from him, leaving just frustrated, impotent anger thrumming through his veins.

He allowed himself to wallow in the anger and the hatred. He allowed himself to imagine the hundred ways in which he could take the bastard's life. He wallowed safe in his impotence. He held tight to his anger; clinging to it to prevent the pain its absence would bring.

He refused to allow even a glimpse of hurt at the betrayal that left him sitting in the ruins of his apartment, clutching the garish silver shirt that still held the lingering scent of its owner's skin.

Yes anger was good, anger would get him through this, anger would resign the bastard to history. Anger was his friend. He let anger embrace him, as he carefully hung the shirt in his wardrobe and made his way down the stairs.


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