ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 146 – WALKING ON EGGSHELLS

AUGUST 13, 2009
WEDNESDAY
4:30AM

Shivering, Buffy awoke on the couch. The summer’s early ing ing birds were starting to sing, as she dragged herself up.

Going through the spare room, she used the restroom, then went into their room. Still shivering, she pulled on a warm nightgown and got into bed.

William’s back was to her, and she although she longed to wrap her body around his, she settled for putting her hand lightly on his back, and lying as close to him as possible. Soon she fell into a restless sleep, as the sky outside began to lighten for the coming day.

5:30AM

Still asleep, William turned over. His arm, automatically going around Buffy, who responded, by snuggling closer. He rubbed her back, and her legs entwined with his. It wasn’t until she made a tiny whimper in her sleep, that he was brought out of his, and back to the present.

His eyes flew open, and the fact that one of them was taped over, immediately clued him into the recent events. He looked cautiously at Elizabeth. Her face, usually so peaceful, that his heart would swell just to lie there and look upon it; now seemed anything but those things. Disturbed looking even as she slept, her face mirrored his own. He shied away, untangling himself from her. Frustrated, he reached up to his own face, and pulled the tape off of his eye.

Using the inside of the gauze, he carefully wiped around his eye, then opened it. It hurt some, but not terribly so. He reached over to the bedside table, feeling around for the small bottle of eye drops. He managed to get it open and put a drop into his eye, then closed it for a few minutes. That done, he got up.

Once in the bathroom, he started to reach for the light, but stopped, instead opening up the blind just a couple of in, in, in order to let in some light. Steering himself, he looked into the mirror. His unshaven, bruised, and scratched face stared back at him, but didn’t quite shock him like it had yesterday. His left eye was bloodshot, but at least he could see clearly out of it. As he traced the scratch that went from his forehead to his cheek, his hand started to shake, as he tried in vain, not to remember the woman, or thing, which had given it to him.

He washed his hands and face, bed hed his teeth for the first time in a day, and avoided looking in the mirror any more.

Looking towards the shower, he promised himself he’d try to take one later, when he got a bit more energy back.

Back in the bedroom, he found the suitcase on the floor, which he’d packed, and rifled through it, until he had found what he wanted. Shoes in one hand, and clothes over his arm, he took them into the living room. Still weak, he sat on the couch and dressed, taking care to avoid looking at his bruises, as he did so.

William walked out to the kitchen, and put on kettle of water for some tea. While it was heating, he found some bread and jam in the refrigerator, and went about making himself some toast. He poured the hot water over his tea bag, and took it and his plate of toast to the table. Purposefully mindless of the fact that he was eating alone, he concentrated on filling up his stomach, which was grumbling with hunger. He had just about finished, when he looked up and happened to see the pan. Suddenly, he remembered himself grabbing it, and slamming it into the mad woman’s head, in order to flee from her the other night.

Choking on his toast, he leapt up, as the memories of her words started echoing in his head; “You’re mine, William. You always have been mine, and no slayer whore is going to change that. No hideous soul will either; I’ll take care of that, by the end of the night. Good-bye soul, hello my old lover Spike. You remember how we used to kill every night for 100 years, don’t you?”

“No!” he said, partially knocking over his chair as he staggered to the back porch.

And still the words came.

“You want to know what I am? I’m the same as you were!” she had said to him, before her face had changed into a hideous countenance, right before his eyes.

“It’s not true!” he gasped, as he stumbled out the back door, squinting in the bright light, which hurt his injured eye.

“... the same as you were!”

“NO!” William gasped, as he started running towards the barn.

“I can smell your fear, just like you could smell the fear in all your previous victims, hear their heart beating, feel it stop as you took their last drop of blood; drained them dry, you did! You were such a hungry dog. You’d bring me presents, too. Nice, delectable children to eat.”

“NO! NO! I’m not...I couldn’t have been...that!”

The barn was eerily quiet as he ran inside. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath was coming in gasps, as he stopped at the bottom of the steps.

He put his hand on the rail to steady himself, as he took the first step.

“A body, there’s going to be a body of the crazy woman,” he said to himself, as he slowly ascended the steps.

His eyes squinted, as he reached the top, and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Where is it?” he asked, as he looked around the ruins of what used to be his and Elizabeth’s sparring space. Mats were knocked over, the pommel horse was on its side; exercise equipment and other things they stored were scattered about. Between them, he saw dark brown spots, which he guessed were his or Elizabeth’s blood, also a dark blue, almost turquoise stain, whose origin he didn’t want to admit to, or knowingly remember.

“Where are you, you ungodly thing?” he cursed, kicking at the fallen things in his way; bending over to toss mats aside, looking for her body.

He stopped abruptly, as he saw the reflection of light playing on a ray of dust particles, about 3 feet in area, which he seemed to have walked into. Looking around him, he saw that although the light shone on about an 8’ x 10’ area, the dust seemed concentrated only in one area.

Looking down, he suddenly saw that he was in front of the area where Elizabeth had been tied up. The sword he’d used lay there, on top of a pile of dust.

“Oh God!” he said, as he bent over and scooped up a handful of what were the remains of the woman, the thing he had slain, the thing which called itself, Drusilla. The thing that had told him he was...

He turned and fled down the steps, and out into the bright daylight, stopping only when he was outside the door. He doubled over, emptying the contents of the scant breakfast he had just eaten, onto the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30AM

“William?” Buffy’s worried voice sounded throughout the house. She had awaken a few minutes before, and found the bed empty, as was the rest of the house. She paused in the kitchen a moment, noticing the half-drank cup of tea, and a part of a piece of toast on the table. She walked out to the porch, and was relieved to see him sitting outside at the table.

“William?” she said, as she came outside.

He’d heard her calling him, while she was still inside, but he hadn’t responded.

She sat down across from him, and frowned as she saw him squinting, the makeshift eye-patch missing. “You took it off,” she said.

He slowly looked up at her, blankly.

She pointed to his eye, and he nodded.

“You weren’t supposed to...” she started, then shrugged, stood up, and opened up the umbrella, adjusting it, so that the sun was now not shining in his face.

“Better?” she asked, sitting back down.

He looked up at her, and her heart shattered all over again, as she saw the pain and confusion in his eyes for a fraction of a second. He nodded finally, and looked away, “Yes. Thank you.”

“William? I...I’ll be right back,” Buffy said, getting up and going back to the house. She turned on the coffee for herself, and started the kettle going for another cup of tea. She popped in some more toast, and spooned out some applesauce. She also started a soft-boiled egg in the little plastic thing-a-ma-jig she’d bought for the microwave. She might not be able to deal with his pain at the moment; not until he was ready, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to take care of the rest of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, buddy, nice to see you up and about...whoa, whoa!” Clem com come around the house and had touched William lightly on the shoulder, as he started talking. William had jumped up and back, knocking over the plastic chair.

“Wh...what do you want?” William asked, backing away, towards the house.

“I just...” Clem looked at him, then down at himself. Yep, he was looking all human, but William was looking at him like he was still looking like a demon.
“...came by to see how you and Buffy were this morning.”

“I’ll get her,” William said, almost stumbling into her, as she carried a tray of food down the back steps.

“Hey, William, where are you going? I just made something for you to eat,” she said, as he hurried past her.

“Not hungry. Sorry,” he said, as she heard the doors to the porch and kitchen, slam shut.

She looked over at Clem, and shook her head sadly, “What happened?”

“I just came around the house and said hello. Well, I touched him on the shoulder first. I’m sorry, Buffy. I should’ve called first,” he said, turning to leave.

“Clem, you know you don’t have to...”

“Yes I do, Buffy. Everything’s changed,” he said, taking off at a run. Clem got as far as the woods, before his demon came forth. The man inside was hurt, but his demon was incensed. He grabbed a couple of saplings and tore them from the ground, as he angrily ran through the trail on the way home. His benign demon, morphing to his more menacing one, then back again, as the foliage took the brunt of his wrath and hurt.

By the time he emerged near his cabin, he was back to his benign appearance. No use to him looking human for now; “Darn it Spike! Gosh darn, darn it all!” he said, and wiped a tear from his eye.

He opened up his cell phone and pressed in a number he knew well, “Edvcar? It’s Clem, how about some poker?”

“Kitten?”

“Of course!”

“Bring ‘em on. Gonna take ‘em all,” Edvcar said.

“See you in about an hour,” Clem said. He packed up his car, then went down to the cellar, that only he knew existed. He opened up a small cage and took out the last of the kittens, from the litter he’d been hanging onto for the past couple of weeks. “Come on little guys, time to play some poker.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy walked back in the house, and found William in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed.

“I think you hurt his feelings,” she said.

He didn’t respond other than to give a sad little shrug, and a shake of his head.

Buffy waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, and she bit back all the things that came to her mind to say, as well.

“You should eat something. If you want it, it’s out there in the kitchen,” she said, not offering to bring it to him. If he wanted to sit and pout, she wasn’t going to add to it by serving him in bed, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy had sulked around the house for the next hour or so, waiting to see if William would come out. Finally, she decided that she would just take him in something to eat and force-feed him if necessary. However, when she’d gone back in to check on him, she’d found he had fallen back asleep.

Clem had called to tell her he was on his way to San Diego for the day, and possibly longer. She had apologized for William, and Clem had accepted, but said he really needed to get away for a little while.

Dawn called around 9, to see how things had gone since last night. She said her and John had decided to drive up the coast for a couple of days. Maybe into Canada, if they got that far.

“Did you and John talk?” Buffy asked.

“We’re planning on it, during the trip.”

“Ah, captive audience.”

“More or less,’ said Dawn.

“What do you think he’s going to say?”

“I think he’s going to think that we’re all crazy.”

“I hope not.”

“Yeah, me too. So, how about you and William?”

“He’s not talking much at all now. He got up before me today, pulled off his the bandage over his eye, got dressed, made some tea. He was outside when I got up. Then Clem came by and William freaked out. Poor Clem, he took off. Now he’s on his way to San Diego for who knows how long.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Seems like we’re all abandoning you.”

“No, Dawn, it doesn’t. Just going on with life, which is what everyone should be doing.”

“And what about you and William?”

“That’s a good question.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had fallen asleep on the couch, when she heard the phone ring. She looked at the clock; it was close to noon.

“Hello?”

“Buffy, it’s Giles.”

“Giles...” she said, holding the phone close, as she started to get choked up.

“Buffy, how are you? How’s William.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking the phone with her out the back door, “William...he’s not doing so good. I mean, physically he’s better, but he’s...I don’t know exactly. He’s not talking much at all; he’s got a major case of ‘withdrawal’ right now, from the world, from me. I don’t know, I just don’t know...” she said, her voice trailing off.

“I’m was so sorry to hear what happened to you and William. I wanted to call you since yesterday, but I figured you had your hands full. Plus, I knew that John and Dawn were there.’

“Yeah, they were there until after 9 last night.”

“I see.”

“It was a good thing John had some medical background,” she said, and told him about William’s injuries.

“I suppose Willow told you what happened with the coven, as well?” Giles asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy said softly, “she told me about the attack. She said 3 members died, and more than that were hurt.”

“It was a very close call, actually. Willow and the ones that survived are very lucky to be alive. The Hoarashb demons that were summoned are quite a vicious variety; hard to kill, as well. Then there were the Rwasundi, which made it near impossible for the remainder of them to find their way to the cellar, in order to thwart the attack at all.”

“Yes, I’ve had the un-pleasure of meeting up with those guys.”

“The Hoarashb?”

“No, the others; after you’d returned to England. Warren summoned them.”

“What’s got me thinking Buffy, is this; Angel is behind this, we know that much. And although I can’t imagine what he’s playing at, we do know that he’s obviously acting out of jealousy, malice, or evil; we just don’t know which.”

“Well yeah, or all of the above, I don’t really care why; he needs to be dealt with! I’ve had it...”

“My point,” Giles said, interrupting, “is that I don’t think Angel was acting under the auspices of Wolfram & Hart. Why would they, who are responsible for the amulet, given to you by Angel, and used by Spike in order to save the world, now want him dead?”

“I don’t know, Giles. Angel thought he was going to be the one to use it, I suppose that Wolfram & Hart did, too. Maybe they had some sort of plans for Angel to Shanshu, but instead Spike did, and now...hell, I don’t know. Oh God, Giles. All I know is that they’re trying to kill him now.”

“I have to disagree. I don’t know if there were any plans for Angel to Shanshu. More likely, they wanted him dead, if you ask me,” Giles said.

“Then why make him the C.E.O.?”

“Maybe that wasn’t suppose to really be a long term thing, just something to rein him in, as he was fighting against them. Once, The First needed to be dealt with, and they had a perfect way to rid themselves of Angel, once and for all. They knew he would offer to stay to help you, given your history.”

“But they didn’t count on me refusing,” Buffy said, thinking, then shook her head. “Still, what’s the point of all this? An intellectual exercise? Because to tell you the truth Giles, I have a hell of a lot more pressing issues to worry about than Wolfram & Hart’s ulterior motives, at the moment,” Buffy said, rather harshly.

“My point, is that if Angel acted alone, he had to have had the help of a very powerful summoner; a sorcerer if you will, in order to summon demons of the Hoarashb caliber. In my experience, there aren’t not many of those around.”

“I’ll leave the figuring out of that stuff to you, Giles. I’ve got to worry about William for now.”

“Of course, Buffy. I realize that Spike is your first priority.”

“William,” Buffy corrected.

“William,” Giles repeated. “Um...tell me, did William recognize Drusilla?”

“No, I don’t think so, he...he didn’t know what hit him. It was horrible for him, Giles. It still is horrible for him.”

“He knows then?”

“I don’t know, I mean, things were said, Dru was ranting on in her crazy fashion, and I even said some things to her, which would...oh God...”

“Buffy?”

“Things about how he could never kill me anyway, when he was...It was when she was threatening to turn him, and let me be his first meal. I told her that he never could hurt me, even when he tried to before. I said all these horrible things...”

“You did what you had to in order to deflect her from him. I know you Buffy, don’t beat yourself up over what you had to do.”

“You were right, Giles.”

“About what?” he said, softly.

“About me telling him. You were all right.”

“Well, if you expect me to gloat or tell you that, ‘I told you so,’ you won’t get that from me. You did what you thought was best for both of you. It wouldn’t have changed what happened.”

“No, but...he wouldn’t be in shock now, wouldn’t be withdrawn, wouldn’t have not known how to fight her.”

“But he did kill her?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d say he figured it out quite nicely.”

“Clem told him to go for the head.”

“Doesn’t matter, he took her out, to save you and himself. He should be quite proud of himself.”

“I don’t think he’s thinking in those terms right now.”

“No, I don’t suppose so. Eventually though, he will, Buffy. He’ll be proud to know that he defeated evil when it showed its face.”

She didn’t answer.

“And Buffy?”

“Yes, Giles?”

“Nothing,” Giles said, deciding not to mention the fact that he had left his card for William. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Let me know if you find out anything...”

“I will. Bye Buffy.”

“Bye Giles.”

Buffy was surprised when she went back into the house to see William in the kitchen.

“You’re up,” she said. “Hungry?”

“Yes,” he said, closing the door to the refrigerator, where he had been standing staring into it.

“Want me to fix you something?” she said, as she started to walk towards him.

He skirted along the counters, physically avoiding coming too close to her.

“That would be...nice. Yes, please.”

“William...” Buffy said.

“I’ll be in...the living room. You’ll let me know when it’s done?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, softly. He looked at her and nodded once to her, then left the room.

He left the room and she let out a breath, she’d been unaware that she’d been holding. She fixed him a cheese and tomato sandwich, grilling it lightly, and a bowl of chicken and noodle soup.

“Hot or cold tea?” she called into the living room.

“Doesn’t matter,” he called back after a few moments.

She made both.

“In here or out there?” she called.

“Here, I guess,” William said. “Unless you want me to...”

She walked into the room, and set the food down on the table next to the couch. The television was on some sports game, though muted. He stared at it, though she didn’t think he was really following it.
fy sfy stood there looking at him, after she set the food down, then handed him the plate.

“Oh, sorry. Thanks,” he said, taking it from her, and taking a bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked, as she walked off.

“Do you want me to eat with you?” she asked, feeling silly for the little pitter-patter her heart made from so simple a question.

“If you want, I just wanted to...you should eat, too. I mean, unless you already did.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed, as she walked to the kitchen.

She slammed some cabinet door shut, out of frustration, and shuffled around the kitchen for a while, finally going back into the living room.

William didn’t say anything as she sat down on the end of the couch, just continued to eat and mindlessly watch the game.

She told herself that she would talk to him, either after the game ended, or whenever there seemed to be an opening.

Unfortunately, William told her he was going to go and shower before the opportunity presented itself.

“Oh, okay. I was thinking of doing that myself,” she said.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, “I won’t use up all the hot. Unless you want to take one first,” he added.

She shook her head, and he nodded briefly to her, before disappearing inside the bedroom.

Staring at the door, she thought about the fact, that only a couple of days ago, he would’ve invited her to take one with him. Now, he was acting like...

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she said to herself, “just give him some space, he’ll come around.” Sure, and monkeys will fly out of my...

She cleaned up the plates and tried to make believe that she was being useful, somehow.

William had managed to get into the shower. He tried to avoid looking at his body, but it wasn’t altogether possible. His chest was covered in bruises, as were his upper thighs. What made him almost weak in the knees was seeing his privates all discolored. Even the water stung him, and he wished he’d had taken a soothing bath instead.

He put his hand up to his neck, and felt the tape. He could feel the gauze underneath was already wet, so figuring it was going to need changing, he carefully pulled it off.

He went about finishing the job of washing himself, and turned off the water.
As he was drying himself, he noticed red running pooling on the floor. He looked at himself, and saw blood running down his chest. Putting his hand to his neck, he felt the still open rawness of the wound. Slowly, he looked into the mirror, and the image made him sick to his stomach. Inadvertently, he cried out.

Buffy had just remembered about the bandage, and had come to warn him not to remove it, when she heard him cry out. Opening the bathroom door, she found him standing against the towel rack, his hand to his neck, blood dripping down.

“It’s okay,” she said, quickly running cold water onto a washcloth. She pried his fingers away from his neck, and applied gentle pressure, “I should have remembered to tell you not to shower yet, or not to remove the bandage. I’m so sorry.”

He stood there half in shock, and shamed, as she stood there holding the washcloth for him.

“Here, sit down,” she said, worried that he might pass out. She put a towel on the lid of the toilet seat. “Can you hold this by yourself?” she asked.

He nodded and she went to the sink, and ran water warm over another washcloth. Then kneeling down, she gently washed the blood off of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking.

She put her hand to his face, and made him look at her, “You listen to me William, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked, as the tears rolled down his cheeks silently.

She shook her head, as her own tears fell. She turned and reached into the medicine cabinet to get out some clean gauze and tape, then gently applied the clean gauze and tape to his wound.

“Elizabeth?” he said, his fingers coming up to touch her neck, where her bandage had been only yesterday.

“It’s better, I don’t think it was as bad as yours,” she said, remembering she had removed hers this morning. “I’m a fast healer.”

She got up and started out of the bathroom.

“I’m glad,” he said, softly.

She nodded without turning, then walked out.

END CHAPTER 146