Title: Growing Pains
Warning: description of drug abuse
Summary: Four drabbles from Rupert Giles' youth, 100 words apiece
Disclaimer: Rupert Giles is not mine, he was created by Joss Wheadon, also known as God.
Dad said he was a dreamer, and he made it sound like a bad thing. He didn't understand. He wanted to fly above the clouds in a plane and look down on the worlds below. In one of his books, it said that people looked like ants from so high above. He would love to see the ant-people one day.
Dad said he has to become a Watcher, so that he could keep the world safe. How could that be? He was just a boy and the world was far too huge to be saved by a single person.
"You see, in no time you'll be home for Christmas. Time flies!" mum had told him.
If anything would fly as slowly as time, it would surely fall from the sky.
Flying... He never had time to read about planes any more. All a Watcher needed to know were strange languages and demon lore, though Rupert cared little for both.
Thursday afternoon class was dedicated to learning about the Slayer. It was a stupid class. How could one girl be so strong? They hadn't learnt yet how it all worked, but he hoped they would soon. It must be magic.
This was a spliff, then. It didn't look like much, slimmer than a ciggy, not as messy as his roll-ups. Lighting it was tricky at first, but then the tobacco kindled the pot and Rupert took a deep drag.
He had to cough when he inhaled too deeply, the smoke hitting his lungs hard. A sip from his beer soothed his throat and after a while, it wasn't any different from smoking a cigarette. At the end of his first joint, he felt relaxed for the first time since he could remember, and mid-terms were all but forgotten.
At Watcher's Academy, he'd often thought about running away. He was a coward then, worried about disappointing his father. But his father couldn't be disappointed any longer. Like a good Watcher, he died by his Slayer's side. Bugger this, he was not going to get sucked to death by a bloody vampire!
London was large, and he was good at hiding. The Watchers wouldn't find him here, and if they did, he'd fight them with everything he got. Maybe they would kill him, but at least he'd go being his own master. A Watcher was as good as dead anyway.