ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
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BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,867
Reviews:
182
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,867
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
ABSURD ICE CREAM
CHAPTER 149 - ABSURD ICE CREAM
“I don’t accept that. I’m sorry, I just won’t accept that!”
Angrily, she rose from her spot on the floor and went into the kitchen.
William could hear her banging the kettle on the stove, the slamming of cupboard doors, a glass shattering as it hit the floor, and the back door as it opened and slammed shut. Then all was quiet.
He drew up his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. His whole body shook, as he wept for everything he’d lost, and everything that he’d ever believed in.
Exhausted andide ide herself, Buffy had run out into the back without any thought as to what she would do next. She hadn’t felt pain like this since Spike had died closing the Hellmouth. This was like losing him all over again.
“Please, no, please,” she said to no god in particular and every god in general. “Please, there’s got to be a way, please, please...please,” she said, finally collapsing into a lawn chair.
She pulled her knees up, put her head on them, and wept bitter tears over everything that was lost to them, and everything that she’d believed in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUGUST 14, 2009
THURSDAY
6:45AM
Buffy awoke with a start, and looked up to see a squirrel staring down at her, from his early morning perch.
“What are you looking at?” she asked him, making a face. In response, he dropped an acorn he’d been holding, which plinged her on the arm.
“Figures,” she said, stiffly getting up.
She made her way back into the house, and went directly to the living room. She was relieved to see that William had fallen asleep, albeit sitting up, leaning against the desk.
He startled awake, moaning, as he tried to sit up straight.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you...”
“Didn’t,” he said, looking up at her with all the pain that had been there before.
She inhaled sharply.
“Willow a witch?” he asked, picking up from the previous night’s questions.
“Yes. You listen to me, William. If you want me to answer any more questions, you’ll have something to eat and drink for me first, understood?”
He hurmphed at her.
“Yeah, I forgot. Got to feed your pity project.”
“What?” she asked.
“Your pity project. That’s what I am, aren’t I? Some poor bloke who’s from another world, until Elizabeth, his savior comes to the rescue? Teach him everything, make like he’s a normal...man!” he spat the last word.
Buffy drew herself upright, staring back at him angrily; “I have never pitied you or thought you were some sort of project. God knows, I don’t need to pity you now, William. You’ve got enough self-pity to fill the whole damned Hellmouth twice over,” she said, turning on her heels, and stalking out towards the kitchen.
He pulled himself up, using the desk as leverage, “Pity? I’m pitying myself?” he yelled after her. “Why, because I’ve been lied to for over a year? Or maybe because I was a cold-blooded, murdering vampire for over 100! Oh wait, I forgot, monsters don’t pity themselves do they?”
“You did,” she yelled back. “You were good at that as Spike!”
“Bloody....hell!” he yelled, taking his frustration out on the first thing that he saw.
Buffy heard the loud crash. Slowly she walked back into the living room. Looking down, she saw the broken remains of the pot they’d bought in Mesa Verde, scattered on the floor all around him.
She looked at him, angry tears running down her face.
William’s own anger turned to chagrin, “I’m sorry,” he said, hoarsely.
Buffy just shook her head, and headed back into the kitchen. William hesitated, then followed.
“Elizabeth...I’m sorry, I...” he shook his head, then collapsed into the nearest chair, resting his head on his hands.
She brought him over a cup of tea, and a piece of toast, hesitating for a moment, her hand near his hair, before withdrawing. She sat down opposite him, her own cup of tea in front of her.
“You should have something,” she said quietly.
“You, too,” he responded.
She nodded and they ate and drank in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After breakfast, William took the dustpan into the living room and cleaned up the remains of the pot, while Buffy swept up the broken glass from the kitchen floor.
He looked at her apologetically for a moment, before dumping the broken pieces of the pot, into the garbage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:00AM
“I’m going to take a shower,” she told William, after they had cleaned up the broken messes. “We can talk more then. If you want.”
He didn’t reply, as he stood in front of the refrigerator.
Buffy stood under the warm spray and once more, the tears came unbidden.
She toweled off quickly, and got dressed. Looking in the mirror, her red and swollen eyes, guiltily stared back at her. She hurriedly looked away.
William was still standing in front of the refrigerator staring at it, when Buffy came back out to the kitchen. She’d thought he was going to get himself something else to eat, when she’d left the room a half-hour earlier.
“What are you doing?” she asked walking up to him. “Oh,” she said looking at the latest picture that Alex had emailed to William. It looked like a little robot and two bigger robots. They were standing on a boat and the little robot had a big fish on his fishing pole. It said, “I caught a fish,” and “I love you.” It was signed, “Alex.”
“They all know, don’t they?” William asked, softly. “All of them, our friends. YOUR friends.”
“They’re your friends too, William. They all care for you, don’t you know that?”
“They all knew,” he said, tonelessly.
“Xander, Willow, and Dawn. And Giles. That’s all. Not Xander’s wife, or John. But Dawn is telling him, because...well, he saw...your neck wounds, and mine. And because Dawn also doesn’t want to keep secrets from him...”
“Not like some people, eh?” William asked, his voice bitter.
“Don’t,’ she said, turning away.
“Why not? Not like there’s any reason to be polite anymore, is there, luv?”
Buffy turned back towards him; “How about the fact that I love you so much, that this is killing me? I just didn’t want you to be hurt by all this. You were happy. We were happy, I just didn’t...”
“Didn’t what?” he asked, coming towards her. “Didn’t want the truth to burst your bubble? The little pretend world you constructed with me as hapless sap in it?”
“Stop it!” she yelled, “You weren’t a sap! I never thought of you as a sap! For God’s sake, William!”
“You were happy?”
“Yes!” she yelled, as she backed up into the sink.
“To be living a lie with me all this time?” he yelled back at her, inches from her face.
“Yes! It didn’t feel like a lie, it felt like us. Us! It felt...it feels more real than anything I’d ever felt before, like the way it’s supposed to feel when two people are in love do! It was real! It wasn’t a lie! It’s not a lie,” she screamed into his face.
“You were happy living with an ex-vampire?” he yelled, ignoring her protests. “A killer? That’s your idea of happy?”
“Yes, I was happy with you; William. Ex-vampire, ex-killer, ex-asshole. No, I take that back, not ex-asshole! Current asshole! Yes!”
His eyes widened, then narrowed as he snorted, then nodded curtly at her, “Well, it’s not my idea of happy,” he said coldly, as he walked out of the kitchen.
Buffy slid down to the floor in front of the sink, as soon as he walked out, her breath coming fast, along with her heartbeat. She felt like she was in the middle of some nightmare she just couldn’t wake up from, try as she might, it just kept coming - shock after shock. Except this was no nightmare...at least, not the sleeping kind.
She put her hand up to her face, and was surprised to find it wet; she hadn’t even been aware that she’d started to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William had stormed out of the kitchen and was now pacing the living room. His righteous anger and seething resentment on his emotional roller coaster, had dissipated almost as soon as he’d left the room, and was now being replaced by the flip side; guilt and despair, as he heard the sounds of her muffled crying a few minutes later.
Try as he might, he still couldn’t stand to see or hear her cry. No matter what, her pain seared him more than his own, especially to know that he’d been the cause of it.
Who was he kidding? He’d never been so happy in his whole, miserable, alive existence, as he had this past year. Surely not in his whole undead one, either he’d wager. But that didn’t change the things that couldn’t be changed, and it no longer seemed like enough.
William took a deep breath, and returned to the kitchen. She was sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up, hugging them to herself, as she cried.
He knelt down in front of her, “I’m a right bastard, aren’t I?’ he said softly.
Her tear-streaked face came up as she looked at him. He looked down, away from the anger and hurt in them. Away from the love, he didn’t deserve.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he mumbled.
“Asshole,” she said sniffling, and punched him lightly in the chest.
He looked up at her sadly and nodded.
“William,” she whispered, voice hitching. He couldn’t stand it any longer; he grabbed her fiercely, pulling her onto his lap.
“Don’t, please don’t cry,” he said, as she hung onto him. His own tears flowed as he felt relief to be holding her, but guilt, knowing that he never should be touching her again. Not now. Not after what he knew about himself.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said, pushing her back and off of him, “I just can’t.”
“You can’t what? Let me touch you? Hug me?”
“Yes, I mean, no. I mean...I just can’t do this!” he said, getting up ofe fle floor. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking over at her, as he walked out the back door.
Buffy pulled herself up and stood looking towards the backdoor. And the nightmare just kept coming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was just about to go after him, when she heard the phone ringing. With a nervous glance towards the door, she reluctantly went to find her phone.
“Hello?”
“Buffy? It’s Willow. How are things?”
Buffy let out a strangled laugh. “Really sucking, Willow. Really sucking!”
“I’m so sorry, Buffy. How’s William?”
“He knows,” Buffy said quietly.
“How’s he taking it?”
“Not very well,” she said quietly.
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t even know what to do for him, Willow. One minute he’s falling apart, and the next he’s furious.”
“Just give him some time. Yourself, too. You’ll get through it; you both will.”
“I hope so Willow, I really hope so.”
They talked for a while longer, Willow telling her that she was going to be heading back for London the next morning.
Almost as soon as she put the phone down, it rang again.
“Hey, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“It’s Leroy. Where are you guys? I called up to Fullers to ask them if you’d picked up the keys and they said you never arrived.”
She rubbed her hand across her head, as she looked out the kitchen window to see if she could see William.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you Leroy. Something came up suddenly, and we...we couldn’t make it.”
“Everything alright?”
“Not exactly,” Buffy said, as she walked to the bedroom to take a look out of the window there towards the barn.
“What happened?”
Buffy hesitated, not knowing if she should say anything, “We were attacked.”
“Attacked? When? What happened? You get hurt?”
“It happened the day before we were to leave for Michigan. We were both attacked, but William’s injuries were the worst. They’re better now. At least physically.”
She pulled open the drapes to the window in the bedroom, looking out towards the barn. She didn’t see him there either.
“They catch who did this? Because if they didn’t, I’m coming out to California and deal out some good old-fashioned Leroy justice, you hear me?”
She smiled wryly at that. “You remember what happened to him at the hospital? It was the same person behind it.”
Buffy heard Leroy let out a low whistle. “Somebody sure got a grudge against William, don’t they? I don’t understand it, he seems like such a...well, I don’t know him much, but he seemed real nice, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly type of guy.”
“I know,” she said softly. She sat on the side of the bed, then lay down. She would only lie down for a minute, she told herself, as she hugged William’s pillow to her with her free hand.
“Something in his past, huh, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah.”
On the other end, Leroy was schinghing his head. “Well, maybe you could still come. Might do you all some good.”
“I wish we could, Leroy. You have no idea how much I wish it, but it’s just impossible right now. I’m sorry to have bothered you with the cabin and everything.”
“What are you talkin’ about? You didn’t bother me none, Elizabeth. I just hate to hear what’s happened to you. You decide to change your mind, you let me know, you hear? Or if there’s anything I can do for you?”
“Thanks, Leroy. I’ll let you know if I can think of anything. Thanks for everything.”
“Didn’t do anything, girl. Wish that I could. You take care. William, too. You hear?”
“Okay. Bye Leroy.”
“Bye, Elizabeth.”
Buffy started to get up, but her body had different ideas. She told herself she would just close her eyes for a moment, then go outside to find William. He couldn’t have gone too far, his car was still there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William hiked up the trail, stopping when he’d spotted ‘their tree,’ a moment of remorse washing over him, remembering how he’d told her he’d made a little step up or something, so that they could more easily...
That wasn’t to be anymore, though. Not now, he told himself. He found the path behind the tree and followed it to the overhang. He sat down on the rocks, looking out at the desert below.
Everything looked the same, but nothing was. He was different, his idea of who he was as a man, irrevoy aly altered forever. He’d been a killer of how many? Hundreds? Thousands? A vampire, a cold-blooded killer for plu plus years.
“Why would you allow something so vile to exist in this world? Allow me to exist?” he said aloud, looking at the sky for answers.
He heard a sound from behind him, and startled. He rose, waiting for whatever or whoever it was to appear, but it was only a small animal that skittered from one side of the trail to another.
William let out a breath of relief. He was glad that it hadn’t been Clem, he would’ve felt quite vulnerable out there on the overlook, with no where to escape. Clem, another person who wasn’t what he, seemed.
Clem a demon, Willow a witch, Giles something to do with slayers, Dawn a former dimensional key for a hell god named Glory, but made up from the very essence of Elizabeth, making her more like a daughter, than sister. And lastly, Elizabeth, his lover, fiancée, savior...The Vampire Slayer, at least back then, ‘the’ one.
These thoughts roiled around in his head, as he made his way back on the small trail leading to the overlook. As he came up to ‘their tree,’ and he saw the heart he had once carved, anger washed over him. He smashed his fist into the tree with all his might.
The sudden shock crumpled him to the ground, tears coming to his eyes as his bloodied hand throbbed painfully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had started to thunder and rain, as William walked back to the cabin, cradling his wounded hand. He opened the back door, half expecting that Elizabeth would be there waiting for him, a worried look on her face, but he was alone in the kitchen. He figured she’d probably come in shortly, having heard him.
He walked over to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, using a nearby towel, to help loosen and remove the blood and dirt. He winced at the pain. He tried to flex his fingers and a searing pain made him grip the side of the sink with his right hand. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he fought for control.
Finally, when the pain had subsided a bit, he opened the freezer, getting out an icy gel pack they had. He went to the drawer, and pulled out the cloth thing that the gel pack went into. He tried to hold onto it with his left hand to slip the ice pack into, but as soon as his fingers felt the weight of the ice pack, he dropped it.
During this time, he was getting angrier and angrier about Elizabeth’s absence.
Moaning, he picked it up with his right hand, then held the cloth in his mouth, and using his right hand, finally slipped it into the opening. He managed to wrap it around his left hand, using his right, and his mouth.
He sniffled back his anger and pain, and went looking for Elizabeth. A couple of moments later, he found her asleep on the bed, still clutching his pillow.
Once more, his own anger and pain left him as he looked down at her. She was shivering in her sleep, and he could see the telltale traces of tears dried on her face and on the pillow.
His whole countenance softened as he used his good hand to pull the covers up around her. His hand moved towards her of its own accord, as he stood there fighting the urge to touch her, comfort her, love her... Gently, he lifted a couple of wisps of hair off of her face, and pushed them behind her ear. He stood there watching her for another couple of minutes, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he left the bedroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:00PM
fy sfy startled awake, her heart pounding, “William,e fie first word out of her mouth, the first thought in her head. She stumbled out of bed in the pitch dark. As soon as she opened the bedroom door she made out his form, asleep on the couch. Gratefully, she breathed in a sigh of relief.
She walked over to him, and relief turned to concern, as she noticed his hand wrapped in the icepack.
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
He opened his eyes and moaned.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. What happened?”
William moaned again, as soon as he moved his hand, “Decided I ought to punch out a tree. Tree won,” he said apologetically, his voice raspy from dryness.
She shook her head at him sadly. “I’m going to turn on this light, so I can take a better look, alright?”
He just nodded, as she found the switch. They stared at each other for a moment, before she gently took his hand and started to unwrap the icepack.
“Maybe you should sit up,” she suggested. He did. He moaned as the wrap came off, and she could see why. His knuckles were all bloody and swollen black and blue. She’d known by the feel of the icepack, that it had warmed hours ago.
“Can you move your fingers?”
“Not without a lot of pain,” he said, wincing as he tried.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is nothing and 10 is the worst you’ve ever felt, how bad?”
“About a 9; or maybe an 8 and a half,” he amended, not wanting to feel like a total ponce.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. She went into the kitchen and found a bowl under the sink. She put cool water into it, and added a couple of ice cubes.
He sat on the couch, his hand throbbing in pain, but glad to have his mind off of everything else that had happened to him. At least physical pain had a way of demanding one’s 100% attention for a while.
Buffy came back into the living room. She pulled the coffee table closer to him, then put the bowl on top of a towel. “Here, soak your hand for a while, it might help bring some of the swelling down. I’ll bring you something to take for it, too.”
“Not very comfortable,” he said, leaning forward to reach the bowl.
“You could lay down and put your hand in it. Or sit on the floor. Or, I could put it on your lap...”
“Yeah, that one.”
She bit her tongue, and did as he asked. “I’ll be back, in a minute.”
“Elizabeth?”
She stopped, without looking back.
“Thank you, I’m...grateful...”
Buffy nodded, and quickly went into the kitchen. She wiped at her eyes, and banged open the cabinet, which held their pain relievers. She grabbed the bottle of Ibuprofen, then went about making them some simple sandwiches. Something that William could at least eat with one hand.
“Great Buffy, real nourishing,” she chided herself. “Suppose it’s better than nothing, which is all we’ve had in the past 3 days practically.
He had his eyes closed, a grimace on his face when she returned.
“William?”
He opened his eyes and nodded, “I’m awake.”
“How’s the hand?”
“Same, just frozen,” he said, giving her a half grin, half shrug.
“I thought you’d better eat something before you take these,” she said, holding out the bottle of pills, “not so good on an empty stomach.
He nodded, almost enthusiastically. She smiled and put the plate down so he could reach the sandwich with his right hand. She went out to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk to go with it.
She felt grateful to be doing the normal stuff like taking care of him, feeding him; nothing heart wrenching, nothing related to slayers or vampires, just them. Two ‘normal,’ people.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled to herself.
Buffy walked back into the living room and handed him the milk. He took it from her and drank it in one gulp. The sandwich was already gone.
“You want another?”
He started to say yes, then stopped; “I don’t want to be a bother...more of one, that is.”
“No bother,” she said, happily.
She returned from the kitchen a few moments later with another sandwich, and another glass of milk.
“Better take those pills now,” she said.
“Can you open the botfor for me?”
“Oh, sure.” She poured out a few of them into her hand, then put them into his mouth. They stared into each other’s eyes as he swallowed them down with the milk, which she held for him, as well.
“Thank you. For still...caring enough to...about me,” he said, looking down, embarrassed.
“Did you think I wouldn’t anymore?”
“Don’t deserve...”
“Stop it! If there was a memo somewhere that said that you didn’t deserve to be cared about or loved anymore, I surely missed it. I won’t give up on you, William; or on us. Please don’t give up on us, either. Or on me.”
He slowly looked up at her, into the eyes and face that had been his salvation; “It’s not that easy. Not anymore; not like it was...so easy,” he said, his eyes tearing up, then flashing anger. “How can it go from being the easiest thing in the world to...this?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy answered evenly, her own eyes tearing, “It’s not easy. It won’t be easy; I know that, but you can’t give up. Please don’t give up on what we have. I...”
The phone rang, and they both were startled out of the moment.
“Better...” William said, sitting back and breaking contact with her.
“Yeah...” she got up off the couch and went to the bedroom to retrieve the phone.
“Hello?”
“Buffy? It’s Dawn, how are things?”
She walked out of the bedroom, “He knows.” William looked at her, stiffening up.
“It’s Dawn,” she said, shrugging. He looked back down at his hand in the water.
“All of it?”
“Yes. Even about you,” Buffy said, as she took the phone out to the kitchen.
Dawn laughed, “Well, that’s two of them that now know.”
“John?”
“Yep. Must say, he took it rather well.”
“I’m so glad for you,” Buffy said, letting out a breath. “He’s okay with it?”
“Seems to be. I told him yesterday, on our trip up to Big Sur. He woke me up last night, all excited. Seems he remembered that he once went to a fortuneteller; you know, one of those types that travel around with carnivals? Anyway, he went on a lark, a dare from one of his pals. He said it was the usual stuff; you’ll come into some wealth, you’ll meet someone, blah, blah, blah...”
“And just how does my little sister know the usual stuff?”
“So I’ve heard,” Dawn said. “Anyway, like I was saying, it was all the usual stuff, until the end.”
“Why, what happened at the end?”
“John said the fortuneteller got very adamant when she told him that he would hold ‘the key.’ John said at the time, he just thought it was a big joke. Either that or he’d find a cure for cancer or something. Now he said, it must’ve meant he would hold me. Isn’t that sweet?”
“It is, Dawn. That’s totally sweet. I can’t believe he doesn’t think we’re all just crazy.”
“Well, he’s not totally discounting that, but he also told me some things about certain patients he’s had over the past couple of years. Sounds like some of those, at least the ones with existing mental conditions, that were called five years ago have been really whacked out about the whole slayer visions thing.”
“Oh no,” Buffy said. “That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, it is. But at least now that John knows...well, maybe he can help them, if he runs into any more of them.”
“He’s actually treated a slayer?”
“Now that he knows, he’s pretty sure about that. He says that there was one girl who had been there for years and years. Something bad happened to her when she was a child; something pretty traumatic from the way it sounds. Anyway, after years of being catatonic, all of a sudden she’s drawing pictures of vampires and slayers. At least that’s what John made it sound like. Not only that, but he told me, as much as he could in any case, that she was rambling on about the Boxer Rebellion in China, and about...” Dawn stopped suddenly.
“Dawn!?”
“Buffy you’re not going to like it. She was going on about William the Bloody.”
“Oh God!”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Did you tell John?”
“Yeah,” Dawn answered softly, “I told him. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should or not. If it means anything, as shocked as he is about all that, about William being Spike or William the Bloody, he still likes William. He doesn’t hold any ill will towards him.”
“I’m really glad about that, John is really an exceptional guy.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“What happened to that girl?”
“She escaped.”
“Shit. A mentally unstable, brassed off slayer? Not of the good. How long ago?”
“About a year.”
“Great. I should let Giles know about her, shouldn’t I? Maybe Wesley could put the word out on the street.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Dawn, I hate to ask you, but could I talk to John. William banged up his hand.”
“How?”
“He hit a tree with it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said.
Buffy heard Dawn call out to John, then he took the phone.
“Buffy, what’s up? Dawn said William hit a tree?”
“Yep, that’s what he told me he did. He’s having a lot of pain. I don’t know if anything is broken or just sprained, or both.”
“Well, you know what I’m going to tell you, right?”
“Take him to a doctor? Yeah, figured, but I don’t think he’ll agree. Especially not now, at this point, if you know what I mean.”
She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I got that. Okay, well, since I’m not there, you’re going to have to assess him for me. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” Buffy said, walking back into the living room. “What do you need me to do?”
William looked up at her, questioningly.
“It’s John on the phone, he wants me to try to assess your injuries, so he can tell me what we need to do for your hand.”
William nodded and lifted it out of the water. She took the bowl off his lap and he dried it on the towel that had been sitting underneath the bowl. He winced in pain, as he did.
“You there?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay, I want you to take his hand, and I’m going to try to walk you through it,” he said.
The verdict came back, that his index finger was probably dislocated, his middle finger, possibly broken, and the other two, just bruised, possibly sprained.
“Let me talk to him,” John said.
“William, John wants to talk to you,” she said, handing him the phone.
“Does he know?” William whispered.
She hesitated for a second, then answered, “Yes, but it doesn’t matter to him, and it shouldn’t matter to you right now, okay?” She put the phone closer.
William took it, “Hello?”
“William, I’m going to have to instruct Buffy on howpullpull your index finger, so that it can pop back into place. It’s going to hurt like hell for a minute, but after that it’s going to feel 100% better. Almost immediately, in fact. I’m guessing, that finger is the one that hurts the most, am I right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” William said, trying to move it. The one next to it didn’t move at all on it’s own.
“Your middle finger is probably broken if you can’t move it. After Buffy gets your other finger popped into place, it will probably still swell up, so I’m going to have her splint that one as well. The splints will help them heal, especially the broken one.”
“Thank you, John,” William said, rather stiffly.
“You’re welcome. Oh, and you’re probably going to want to take one of those anti-inflammatory pills I left you for your other injuries for about a week. If you run out just let me know, and I’ll write you prescription for some more. Just remember to eat something with them. Oh, and don’t take any more ibuprofen with the other pills, alright?”
“I won’t. Thanks,” William said, handing the phone back to Buffy.
“He’s still talking to you,” she said, handing it back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“I was just saying that I just myself found out about...well, everything, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m still your friend. I just wanted say that okay? You’re still our friend William, still my friend...I guess that’s all I wanted to say.”
William didn’t say anything for a moment.
“William? Are you still there?”
“Um...yes. Thank you. Here’s Elizabeth,” he said, handing her the phone.
“It’s me.”
“Okay, let’s get started.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
John had been right. The pain was excruciating, as Elizabeth popped his index finger back into place, but it was amazing how the pain went right away afterwards. His two fingers were now splinted and taped together, which overall felt much better than they had in the bowl of ice water.
He’d finally gotten off the couch to use the bathroom, and wash himself up as best he could, with only one hand. He looked at himself in the mirror. Then down at his body. He was still bruised pretty badly, and now his favorite hand was out of commission for at least a few weeks.
“Just bloody brilliant,” he said to his reflection. “Bloody perfect.” He was growing rather fond of that word lately.
He came out into the bedroom, to find that Elizabeth was in the middle of changing. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking away.
His apology stung her, even though she knew where it was coming from. She just shrugged, and turned her back on him as she pulled her nightgown over her head.
“Your pajamas are on the bed, if you want to change. I’ll be in the living room. Do you want some ice cream?”
He looked up at her. Ice cream; it seemed so absurd. A happy food, for happy times. Still, it was ice cream.
“Okay,” he said, with a small smile.
She smiled back at him, gratefully. It was the first time she’d seen him smile in days.
He struggled to pull his bottoms on, but finally managed. He came out to the kitchen to find Elizabeth trying to tackle the very frozen dessert.
“What kind is it?”
“Peppermint. There’s chocolate, too. If you’d rather have that. Or both; you can have both.”
“No, peppermint sounds...lovely.”
She smiled at him and once more, tried to tackle the frozen demon.
“Microwave it,” he suggested.
“Good idea,” she said, leaning the carton over on its side and giving it 30 seconds.
The timer dinged, and she took it out, “Perfect,” she said, opening up the flaps. “Just soft enough.”
She spooned out the ice cream into two bowls; “Can you carry the spoons?”
He nodded as she handed them to him. He followed her out into the living room. Balancing the bowl on his lap, he managed to eat with his right hand.
“Good?”
He nodded.
Buffy took the bowls away, and washed them. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt a bit happy. William was talking a bit, eating ice cream; it was going to be alright.
When she was finished, she came back out to the living room. The lights were turned out, and he was lying under a blanket on the couch. His head lay on the pillowom tom the bedroom.
“William?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
“Um.thinthink I’m going to sleep out here tonight.”
She stared at him in the dark. “Why?”
“My hand. Thought it would be best if I couldn’t turn over onto it.”
“Oh...okay. Yeah, that’s probably best. I might even knock into it in my sleep.”
She went over to the couch, and gave his right hand a little squeeze. “Good-night then.”
“Good-night, Elizabeth,” he said, closing his eyes.
She went into the bedroom and started to close the door, then decided to leave it open a bit. It felt strange and empty getting into the bed. His missing pillows made it all the more so. In all her years living there alone, his pillows had always been on the bed.
“Good-night, William,” she called out in the dark.
“Good-night,” he called back, a few moments later.
He tossed and turned on the couch for a long time, and could hear her doing the same. He thought he heard the muffled sounds of her crying at one point, and it tore him up inside. Himself, he cried silently.
Only when she finally heard the soft sounds of his snoring coming from the living room a couple of hours later, was Buffy able to drift off to sleep herself.
END CHAPTER 149
A/N Hope you liked the update. TBC And thanks for all the feedback. It's awesome
“I don’t accept that. I’m sorry, I just won’t accept that!”
Angrily, she rose from her spot on the floor and went into the kitchen.
William could hear her banging the kettle on the stove, the slamming of cupboard doors, a glass shattering as it hit the floor, and the back door as it opened and slammed shut. Then all was quiet.
He drew up his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. His whole body shook, as he wept for everything he’d lost, and everything that he’d ever believed in.
Exhausted andide ide herself, Buffy had run out into the back without any thought as to what she would do next. She hadn’t felt pain like this since Spike had died closing the Hellmouth. This was like losing him all over again.
“Please, no, please,” she said to no god in particular and every god in general. “Please, there’s got to be a way, please, please...please,” she said, finally collapsing into a lawn chair.
She pulled her knees up, put her head on them, and wept bitter tears over everything that was lost to them, and everything that she’d believed in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUGUST 14, 2009
THURSDAY
6:45AM
Buffy awoke with a start, and looked up to see a squirrel staring down at her, from his early morning perch.
“What are you looking at?” she asked him, making a face. In response, he dropped an acorn he’d been holding, which plinged her on the arm.
“Figures,” she said, stiffly getting up.
She made her way back into the house, and went directly to the living room. She was relieved to see that William had fallen asleep, albeit sitting up, leaning against the desk.
He startled awake, moaning, as he tried to sit up straight.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you...”
“Didn’t,” he said, looking up at her with all the pain that had been there before.
She inhaled sharply.
“Willow a witch?” he asked, picking up from the previous night’s questions.
“Yes. You listen to me, William. If you want me to answer any more questions, you’ll have something to eat and drink for me first, understood?”
He hurmphed at her.
“Yeah, I forgot. Got to feed your pity project.”
“What?” she asked.
“Your pity project. That’s what I am, aren’t I? Some poor bloke who’s from another world, until Elizabeth, his savior comes to the rescue? Teach him everything, make like he’s a normal...man!” he spat the last word.
Buffy drew herself upright, staring back at him angrily; “I have never pitied you or thought you were some sort of project. God knows, I don’t need to pity you now, William. You’ve got enough self-pity to fill the whole damned Hellmouth twice over,” she said, turning on her heels, and stalking out towards the kitchen.
He pulled himself up, using the desk as leverage, “Pity? I’m pitying myself?” he yelled after her. “Why, because I’ve been lied to for over a year? Or maybe because I was a cold-blooded, murdering vampire for over 100! Oh wait, I forgot, monsters don’t pity themselves do they?”
“You did,” she yelled back. “You were good at that as Spike!”
“Bloody....hell!” he yelled, taking his frustration out on the first thing that he saw.
Buffy heard the loud crash. Slowly she walked back into the living room. Looking down, she saw the broken remains of the pot they’d bought in Mesa Verde, scattered on the floor all around him.
She looked at him, angry tears running down her face.
William’s own anger turned to chagrin, “I’m sorry,” he said, hoarsely.
Buffy just shook her head, and headed back into the kitchen. William hesitated, then followed.
“Elizabeth...I’m sorry, I...” he shook his head, then collapsed into the nearest chair, resting his head on his hands.
She brought him over a cup of tea, and a piece of toast, hesitating for a moment, her hand near his hair, before withdrawing. She sat down opposite him, her own cup of tea in front of her.
“You should have something,” she said quietly.
“You, too,” he responded.
She nodded and they ate and drank in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After breakfast, William took the dustpan into the living room and cleaned up the remains of the pot, while Buffy swept up the broken glass from the kitchen floor.
He looked at her apologetically for a moment, before dumping the broken pieces of the pot, into the garbage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:00AM
“I’m going to take a shower,” she told William, after they had cleaned up the broken messes. “We can talk more then. If you want.”
He didn’t reply, as he stood in front of the refrigerator.
Buffy stood under the warm spray and once more, the tears came unbidden.
She toweled off quickly, and got dressed. Looking in the mirror, her red and swollen eyes, guiltily stared back at her. She hurriedly looked away.
William was still standing in front of the refrigerator staring at it, when Buffy came back out to the kitchen. She’d thought he was going to get himself something else to eat, when she’d left the room a half-hour earlier.
“What are you doing?” she asked walking up to him. “Oh,” she said looking at the latest picture that Alex had emailed to William. It looked like a little robot and two bigger robots. They were standing on a boat and the little robot had a big fish on his fishing pole. It said, “I caught a fish,” and “I love you.” It was signed, “Alex.”
“They all know, don’t they?” William asked, softly. “All of them, our friends. YOUR friends.”
“They’re your friends too, William. They all care for you, don’t you know that?”
“They all knew,” he said, tonelessly.
“Xander, Willow, and Dawn. And Giles. That’s all. Not Xander’s wife, or John. But Dawn is telling him, because...well, he saw...your neck wounds, and mine. And because Dawn also doesn’t want to keep secrets from him...”
“Not like some people, eh?” William asked, his voice bitter.
“Don’t,’ she said, turning away.
“Why not? Not like there’s any reason to be polite anymore, is there, luv?”
Buffy turned back towards him; “How about the fact that I love you so much, that this is killing me? I just didn’t want you to be hurt by all this. You were happy. We were happy, I just didn’t...”
“Didn’t what?” he asked, coming towards her. “Didn’t want the truth to burst your bubble? The little pretend world you constructed with me as hapless sap in it?”
“Stop it!” she yelled, “You weren’t a sap! I never thought of you as a sap! For God’s sake, William!”
“You were happy?”
“Yes!” she yelled, as she backed up into the sink.
“To be living a lie with me all this time?” he yelled back at her, inches from her face.
“Yes! It didn’t feel like a lie, it felt like us. Us! It felt...it feels more real than anything I’d ever felt before, like the way it’s supposed to feel when two people are in love do! It was real! It wasn’t a lie! It’s not a lie,” she screamed into his face.
“You were happy living with an ex-vampire?” he yelled, ignoring her protests. “A killer? That’s your idea of happy?”
“Yes, I was happy with you; William. Ex-vampire, ex-killer, ex-asshole. No, I take that back, not ex-asshole! Current asshole! Yes!”
His eyes widened, then narrowed as he snorted, then nodded curtly at her, “Well, it’s not my idea of happy,” he said coldly, as he walked out of the kitchen.
Buffy slid down to the floor in front of the sink, as soon as he walked out, her breath coming fast, along with her heartbeat. She felt like she was in the middle of some nightmare she just couldn’t wake up from, try as she might, it just kept coming - shock after shock. Except this was no nightmare...at least, not the sleeping kind.
She put her hand up to her face, and was surprised to find it wet; she hadn’t even been aware that she’d started to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William had stormed out of the kitchen and was now pacing the living room. His righteous anger and seething resentment on his emotional roller coaster, had dissipated almost as soon as he’d left the room, and was now being replaced by the flip side; guilt and despair, as he heard the sounds of her muffled crying a few minutes later.
Try as he might, he still couldn’t stand to see or hear her cry. No matter what, her pain seared him more than his own, especially to know that he’d been the cause of it.
Who was he kidding? He’d never been so happy in his whole, miserable, alive existence, as he had this past year. Surely not in his whole undead one, either he’d wager. But that didn’t change the things that couldn’t be changed, and it no longer seemed like enough.
William took a deep breath, and returned to the kitchen. She was sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up, hugging them to herself, as she cried.
He knelt down in front of her, “I’m a right bastard, aren’t I?’ he said softly.
Her tear-streaked face came up as she looked at him. He looked down, away from the anger and hurt in them. Away from the love, he didn’t deserve.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he mumbled.
“Asshole,” she said sniffling, and punched him lightly in the chest.
He looked up at her sadly and nodded.
“William,” she whispered, voice hitching. He couldn’t stand it any longer; he grabbed her fiercely, pulling her onto his lap.
“Don’t, please don’t cry,” he said, as she hung onto him. His own tears flowed as he felt relief to be holding her, but guilt, knowing that he never should be touching her again. Not now. Not after what he knew about himself.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said, pushing her back and off of him, “I just can’t.”
“You can’t what? Let me touch you? Hug me?”
“Yes, I mean, no. I mean...I just can’t do this!” he said, getting up ofe fle floor. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking over at her, as he walked out the back door.
Buffy pulled herself up and stood looking towards the backdoor. And the nightmare just kept coming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was just about to go after him, when she heard the phone ringing. With a nervous glance towards the door, she reluctantly went to find her phone.
“Hello?”
“Buffy? It’s Willow. How are things?”
Buffy let out a strangled laugh. “Really sucking, Willow. Really sucking!”
“I’m so sorry, Buffy. How’s William?”
“He knows,” Buffy said quietly.
“How’s he taking it?”
“Not very well,” she said quietly.
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t even know what to do for him, Willow. One minute he’s falling apart, and the next he’s furious.”
“Just give him some time. Yourself, too. You’ll get through it; you both will.”
“I hope so Willow, I really hope so.”
They talked for a while longer, Willow telling her that she was going to be heading back for London the next morning.
Almost as soon as she put the phone down, it rang again.
“Hey, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“It’s Leroy. Where are you guys? I called up to Fullers to ask them if you’d picked up the keys and they said you never arrived.”
She rubbed her hand across her head, as she looked out the kitchen window to see if she could see William.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you Leroy. Something came up suddenly, and we...we couldn’t make it.”
“Everything alright?”
“Not exactly,” Buffy said, as she walked to the bedroom to take a look out of the window there towards the barn.
“What happened?”
Buffy hesitated, not knowing if she should say anything, “We were attacked.”
“Attacked? When? What happened? You get hurt?”
“It happened the day before we were to leave for Michigan. We were both attacked, but William’s injuries were the worst. They’re better now. At least physically.”
She pulled open the drapes to the window in the bedroom, looking out towards the barn. She didn’t see him there either.
“They catch who did this? Because if they didn’t, I’m coming out to California and deal out some good old-fashioned Leroy justice, you hear me?”
She smiled wryly at that. “You remember what happened to him at the hospital? It was the same person behind it.”
Buffy heard Leroy let out a low whistle. “Somebody sure got a grudge against William, don’t they? I don’t understand it, he seems like such a...well, I don’t know him much, but he seemed real nice, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly type of guy.”
“I know,” she said softly. She sat on the side of the bed, then lay down. She would only lie down for a minute, she told herself, as she hugged William’s pillow to her with her free hand.
“Something in his past, huh, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah.”
On the other end, Leroy was schinghing his head. “Well, maybe you could still come. Might do you all some good.”
“I wish we could, Leroy. You have no idea how much I wish it, but it’s just impossible right now. I’m sorry to have bothered you with the cabin and everything.”
“What are you talkin’ about? You didn’t bother me none, Elizabeth. I just hate to hear what’s happened to you. You decide to change your mind, you let me know, you hear? Or if there’s anything I can do for you?”
“Thanks, Leroy. I’ll let you know if I can think of anything. Thanks for everything.”
“Didn’t do anything, girl. Wish that I could. You take care. William, too. You hear?”
“Okay. Bye Leroy.”
“Bye, Elizabeth.”
Buffy started to get up, but her body had different ideas. She told herself she would just close her eyes for a moment, then go outside to find William. He couldn’t have gone too far, his car was still there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William hiked up the trail, stopping when he’d spotted ‘their tree,’ a moment of remorse washing over him, remembering how he’d told her he’d made a little step up or something, so that they could more easily...
That wasn’t to be anymore, though. Not now, he told himself. He found the path behind the tree and followed it to the overhang. He sat down on the rocks, looking out at the desert below.
Everything looked the same, but nothing was. He was different, his idea of who he was as a man, irrevoy aly altered forever. He’d been a killer of how many? Hundreds? Thousands? A vampire, a cold-blooded killer for plu plus years.
“Why would you allow something so vile to exist in this world? Allow me to exist?” he said aloud, looking at the sky for answers.
He heard a sound from behind him, and startled. He rose, waiting for whatever or whoever it was to appear, but it was only a small animal that skittered from one side of the trail to another.
William let out a breath of relief. He was glad that it hadn’t been Clem, he would’ve felt quite vulnerable out there on the overlook, with no where to escape. Clem, another person who wasn’t what he, seemed.
Clem a demon, Willow a witch, Giles something to do with slayers, Dawn a former dimensional key for a hell god named Glory, but made up from the very essence of Elizabeth, making her more like a daughter, than sister. And lastly, Elizabeth, his lover, fiancée, savior...The Vampire Slayer, at least back then, ‘the’ one.
These thoughts roiled around in his head, as he made his way back on the small trail leading to the overlook. As he came up to ‘their tree,’ and he saw the heart he had once carved, anger washed over him. He smashed his fist into the tree with all his might.
The sudden shock crumpled him to the ground, tears coming to his eyes as his bloodied hand throbbed painfully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had started to thunder and rain, as William walked back to the cabin, cradling his wounded hand. He opened the back door, half expecting that Elizabeth would be there waiting for him, a worried look on her face, but he was alone in the kitchen. He figured she’d probably come in shortly, having heard him.
He walked over to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, using a nearby towel, to help loosen and remove the blood and dirt. He winced at the pain. He tried to flex his fingers and a searing pain made him grip the side of the sink with his right hand. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he fought for control.
Finally, when the pain had subsided a bit, he opened the freezer, getting out an icy gel pack they had. He went to the drawer, and pulled out the cloth thing that the gel pack went into. He tried to hold onto it with his left hand to slip the ice pack into, but as soon as his fingers felt the weight of the ice pack, he dropped it.
During this time, he was getting angrier and angrier about Elizabeth’s absence.
Moaning, he picked it up with his right hand, then held the cloth in his mouth, and using his right hand, finally slipped it into the opening. He managed to wrap it around his left hand, using his right, and his mouth.
He sniffled back his anger and pain, and went looking for Elizabeth. A couple of moments later, he found her asleep on the bed, still clutching his pillow.
Once more, his own anger and pain left him as he looked down at her. She was shivering in her sleep, and he could see the telltale traces of tears dried on her face and on the pillow.
His whole countenance softened as he used his good hand to pull the covers up around her. His hand moved towards her of its own accord, as he stood there fighting the urge to touch her, comfort her, love her... Gently, he lifted a couple of wisps of hair off of her face, and pushed them behind her ear. He stood there watching her for another couple of minutes, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he left the bedroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:00PM
fy sfy startled awake, her heart pounding, “William,e fie first word out of her mouth, the first thought in her head. She stumbled out of bed in the pitch dark. As soon as she opened the bedroom door she made out his form, asleep on the couch. Gratefully, she breathed in a sigh of relief.
She walked over to him, and relief turned to concern, as she noticed his hand wrapped in the icepack.
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
He opened his eyes and moaned.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. What happened?”
William moaned again, as soon as he moved his hand, “Decided I ought to punch out a tree. Tree won,” he said apologetically, his voice raspy from dryness.
She shook her head at him sadly. “I’m going to turn on this light, so I can take a better look, alright?”
He just nodded, as she found the switch. They stared at each other for a moment, before she gently took his hand and started to unwrap the icepack.
“Maybe you should sit up,” she suggested. He did. He moaned as the wrap came off, and she could see why. His knuckles were all bloody and swollen black and blue. She’d known by the feel of the icepack, that it had warmed hours ago.
“Can you move your fingers?”
“Not without a lot of pain,” he said, wincing as he tried.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is nothing and 10 is the worst you’ve ever felt, how bad?”
“About a 9; or maybe an 8 and a half,” he amended, not wanting to feel like a total ponce.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. She went into the kitchen and found a bowl under the sink. She put cool water into it, and added a couple of ice cubes.
He sat on the couch, his hand throbbing in pain, but glad to have his mind off of everything else that had happened to him. At least physical pain had a way of demanding one’s 100% attention for a while.
Buffy came back into the living room. She pulled the coffee table closer to him, then put the bowl on top of a towel. “Here, soak your hand for a while, it might help bring some of the swelling down. I’ll bring you something to take for it, too.”
“Not very comfortable,” he said, leaning forward to reach the bowl.
“You could lay down and put your hand in it. Or sit on the floor. Or, I could put it on your lap...”
“Yeah, that one.”
She bit her tongue, and did as he asked. “I’ll be back, in a minute.”
“Elizabeth?”
She stopped, without looking back.
“Thank you, I’m...grateful...”
Buffy nodded, and quickly went into the kitchen. She wiped at her eyes, and banged open the cabinet, which held their pain relievers. She grabbed the bottle of Ibuprofen, then went about making them some simple sandwiches. Something that William could at least eat with one hand.
“Great Buffy, real nourishing,” she chided herself. “Suppose it’s better than nothing, which is all we’ve had in the past 3 days practically.
He had his eyes closed, a grimace on his face when she returned.
“William?”
He opened his eyes and nodded, “I’m awake.”
“How’s the hand?”
“Same, just frozen,” he said, giving her a half grin, half shrug.
“I thought you’d better eat something before you take these,” she said, holding out the bottle of pills, “not so good on an empty stomach.
He nodded, almost enthusiastically. She smiled and put the plate down so he could reach the sandwich with his right hand. She went out to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk to go with it.
She felt grateful to be doing the normal stuff like taking care of him, feeding him; nothing heart wrenching, nothing related to slayers or vampires, just them. Two ‘normal,’ people.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled to herself.
Buffy walked back into the living room and handed him the milk. He took it from her and drank it in one gulp. The sandwich was already gone.
“You want another?”
He started to say yes, then stopped; “I don’t want to be a bother...more of one, that is.”
“No bother,” she said, happily.
She returned from the kitchen a few moments later with another sandwich, and another glass of milk.
“Better take those pills now,” she said.
“Can you open the botfor for me?”
“Oh, sure.” She poured out a few of them into her hand, then put them into his mouth. They stared into each other’s eyes as he swallowed them down with the milk, which she held for him, as well.
“Thank you. For still...caring enough to...about me,” he said, looking down, embarrassed.
“Did you think I wouldn’t anymore?”
“Don’t deserve...”
“Stop it! If there was a memo somewhere that said that you didn’t deserve to be cared about or loved anymore, I surely missed it. I won’t give up on you, William; or on us. Please don’t give up on us, either. Or on me.”
He slowly looked up at her, into the eyes and face that had been his salvation; “It’s not that easy. Not anymore; not like it was...so easy,” he said, his eyes tearing up, then flashing anger. “How can it go from being the easiest thing in the world to...this?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy answered evenly, her own eyes tearing, “It’s not easy. It won’t be easy; I know that, but you can’t give up. Please don’t give up on what we have. I...”
The phone rang, and they both were startled out of the moment.
“Better...” William said, sitting back and breaking contact with her.
“Yeah...” she got up off the couch and went to the bedroom to retrieve the phone.
“Hello?”
“Buffy? It’s Dawn, how are things?”
She walked out of the bedroom, “He knows.” William looked at her, stiffening up.
“It’s Dawn,” she said, shrugging. He looked back down at his hand in the water.
“All of it?”
“Yes. Even about you,” Buffy said, as she took the phone out to the kitchen.
Dawn laughed, “Well, that’s two of them that now know.”
“John?”
“Yep. Must say, he took it rather well.”
“I’m so glad for you,” Buffy said, letting out a breath. “He’s okay with it?”
“Seems to be. I told him yesterday, on our trip up to Big Sur. He woke me up last night, all excited. Seems he remembered that he once went to a fortuneteller; you know, one of those types that travel around with carnivals? Anyway, he went on a lark, a dare from one of his pals. He said it was the usual stuff; you’ll come into some wealth, you’ll meet someone, blah, blah, blah...”
“And just how does my little sister know the usual stuff?”
“So I’ve heard,” Dawn said. “Anyway, like I was saying, it was all the usual stuff, until the end.”
“Why, what happened at the end?”
“John said the fortuneteller got very adamant when she told him that he would hold ‘the key.’ John said at the time, he just thought it was a big joke. Either that or he’d find a cure for cancer or something. Now he said, it must’ve meant he would hold me. Isn’t that sweet?”
“It is, Dawn. That’s totally sweet. I can’t believe he doesn’t think we’re all just crazy.”
“Well, he’s not totally discounting that, but he also told me some things about certain patients he’s had over the past couple of years. Sounds like some of those, at least the ones with existing mental conditions, that were called five years ago have been really whacked out about the whole slayer visions thing.”
“Oh no,” Buffy said. “That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, it is. But at least now that John knows...well, maybe he can help them, if he runs into any more of them.”
“He’s actually treated a slayer?”
“Now that he knows, he’s pretty sure about that. He says that there was one girl who had been there for years and years. Something bad happened to her when she was a child; something pretty traumatic from the way it sounds. Anyway, after years of being catatonic, all of a sudden she’s drawing pictures of vampires and slayers. At least that’s what John made it sound like. Not only that, but he told me, as much as he could in any case, that she was rambling on about the Boxer Rebellion in China, and about...” Dawn stopped suddenly.
“Dawn!?”
“Buffy you’re not going to like it. She was going on about William the Bloody.”
“Oh God!”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Did you tell John?”
“Yeah,” Dawn answered softly, “I told him. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should or not. If it means anything, as shocked as he is about all that, about William being Spike or William the Bloody, he still likes William. He doesn’t hold any ill will towards him.”
“I’m really glad about that, John is really an exceptional guy.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“What happened to that girl?”
“She escaped.”
“Shit. A mentally unstable, brassed off slayer? Not of the good. How long ago?”
“About a year.”
“Great. I should let Giles know about her, shouldn’t I? Maybe Wesley could put the word out on the street.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Dawn, I hate to ask you, but could I talk to John. William banged up his hand.”
“How?”
“He hit a tree with it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said.
Buffy heard Dawn call out to John, then he took the phone.
“Buffy, what’s up? Dawn said William hit a tree?”
“Yep, that’s what he told me he did. He’s having a lot of pain. I don’t know if anything is broken or just sprained, or both.”
“Well, you know what I’m going to tell you, right?”
“Take him to a doctor? Yeah, figured, but I don’t think he’ll agree. Especially not now, at this point, if you know what I mean.”
She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I got that. Okay, well, since I’m not there, you’re going to have to assess him for me. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” Buffy said, walking back into the living room. “What do you need me to do?”
William looked up at her, questioningly.
“It’s John on the phone, he wants me to try to assess your injuries, so he can tell me what we need to do for your hand.”
William nodded and lifted it out of the water. She took the bowl off his lap and he dried it on the towel that had been sitting underneath the bowl. He winced in pain, as he did.
“You there?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay, I want you to take his hand, and I’m going to try to walk you through it,” he said.
The verdict came back, that his index finger was probably dislocated, his middle finger, possibly broken, and the other two, just bruised, possibly sprained.
“Let me talk to him,” John said.
“William, John wants to talk to you,” she said, handing him the phone.
“Does he know?” William whispered.
She hesitated for a second, then answered, “Yes, but it doesn’t matter to him, and it shouldn’t matter to you right now, okay?” She put the phone closer.
William took it, “Hello?”
“William, I’m going to have to instruct Buffy on howpullpull your index finger, so that it can pop back into place. It’s going to hurt like hell for a minute, but after that it’s going to feel 100% better. Almost immediately, in fact. I’m guessing, that finger is the one that hurts the most, am I right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” William said, trying to move it. The one next to it didn’t move at all on it’s own.
“Your middle finger is probably broken if you can’t move it. After Buffy gets your other finger popped into place, it will probably still swell up, so I’m going to have her splint that one as well. The splints will help them heal, especially the broken one.”
“Thank you, John,” William said, rather stiffly.
“You’re welcome. Oh, and you’re probably going to want to take one of those anti-inflammatory pills I left you for your other injuries for about a week. If you run out just let me know, and I’ll write you prescription for some more. Just remember to eat something with them. Oh, and don’t take any more ibuprofen with the other pills, alright?”
“I won’t. Thanks,” William said, handing the phone back to Buffy.
“He’s still talking to you,” she said, handing it back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“I was just saying that I just myself found out about...well, everything, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m still your friend. I just wanted say that okay? You’re still our friend William, still my friend...I guess that’s all I wanted to say.”
William didn’t say anything for a moment.
“William? Are you still there?”
“Um...yes. Thank you. Here’s Elizabeth,” he said, handing her the phone.
“It’s me.”
“Okay, let’s get started.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
John had been right. The pain was excruciating, as Elizabeth popped his index finger back into place, but it was amazing how the pain went right away afterwards. His two fingers were now splinted and taped together, which overall felt much better than they had in the bowl of ice water.
He’d finally gotten off the couch to use the bathroom, and wash himself up as best he could, with only one hand. He looked at himself in the mirror. Then down at his body. He was still bruised pretty badly, and now his favorite hand was out of commission for at least a few weeks.
“Just bloody brilliant,” he said to his reflection. “Bloody perfect.” He was growing rather fond of that word lately.
He came out into the bedroom, to find that Elizabeth was in the middle of changing. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking away.
His apology stung her, even though she knew where it was coming from. She just shrugged, and turned her back on him as she pulled her nightgown over her head.
“Your pajamas are on the bed, if you want to change. I’ll be in the living room. Do you want some ice cream?”
He looked up at her. Ice cream; it seemed so absurd. A happy food, for happy times. Still, it was ice cream.
“Okay,” he said, with a small smile.
She smiled back at him, gratefully. It was the first time she’d seen him smile in days.
He struggled to pull his bottoms on, but finally managed. He came out to the kitchen to find Elizabeth trying to tackle the very frozen dessert.
“What kind is it?”
“Peppermint. There’s chocolate, too. If you’d rather have that. Or both; you can have both.”
“No, peppermint sounds...lovely.”
She smiled at him and once more, tried to tackle the frozen demon.
“Microwave it,” he suggested.
“Good idea,” she said, leaning the carton over on its side and giving it 30 seconds.
The timer dinged, and she took it out, “Perfect,” she said, opening up the flaps. “Just soft enough.”
She spooned out the ice cream into two bowls; “Can you carry the spoons?”
He nodded as she handed them to him. He followed her out into the living room. Balancing the bowl on his lap, he managed to eat with his right hand.
“Good?”
He nodded.
Buffy took the bowls away, and washed them. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt a bit happy. William was talking a bit, eating ice cream; it was going to be alright.
When she was finished, she came back out to the living room. The lights were turned out, and he was lying under a blanket on the couch. His head lay on the pillowom tom the bedroom.
“William?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
“Um.thinthink I’m going to sleep out here tonight.”
She stared at him in the dark. “Why?”
“My hand. Thought it would be best if I couldn’t turn over onto it.”
“Oh...okay. Yeah, that’s probably best. I might even knock into it in my sleep.”
She went over to the couch, and gave his right hand a little squeeze. “Good-night then.”
“Good-night, Elizabeth,” he said, closing his eyes.
She went into the bedroom and started to close the door, then decided to leave it open a bit. It felt strange and empty getting into the bed. His missing pillows made it all the more so. In all her years living there alone, his pillows had always been on the bed.
“Good-night, William,” she called out in the dark.
“Good-night,” he called back, a few moments later.
He tossed and turned on the couch for a long time, and could hear her doing the same. He thought he heard the muffled sounds of her crying at one point, and it tore him up inside. Himself, he cried silently.
Only when she finally heard the soft sounds of his snoring coming from the living room a couple of hours later, was Buffy able to drift off to sleep herself.
END CHAPTER 149
A/N Hope you liked the update. TBC And thanks for all the feedback. It's awesome