Giles didn’t hear you come in. He stood at the center of the library, a prophecy text still open in one hand, though he hadn’t turned the page in nearly five minutes.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. Raw.

"She’s gone. Marched out the door with a crossbow and a death sentence — because I was too much of a coward to stop her."

He looked up at you then, not with anger or dismissal, but the kind of tired a man carries when he’s run out of ideas.

"I told her not to go. I said I’d face the Master myself. She laughed."

His mouth twisted like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or shatter. He nodded once at the open chair nearby.

"You may stay. Or not. But I... I don’t think I should be alone right now."