ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,882
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,882
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.
THE NEW ME
CHAPTER 163 – THE NEW ME
OER 1ER 15, 2009
WEDNESDAY
8:00PM
“Good to be home, isn’t it?” Profe Wit Wittman said, as he put the suitcases down by the door.
Ingrid smiled fondly at him, “Very,” she said, patting him on the arm, knowing that these trips to the clinic were as hard on him, as they were on her.
“Hello Charley! How have you been old boy? William treat you well while we were gone?” Richard asked.
The cat purred in response, rubbing against both of his owner’s legs.
“He’s just fine,” Ingrid said, bending over to pick him up. She walked into the living room with Charlie, pulling the cord on the drapes back.
“Who is that Richard?”
“Who’s who?” the professor asked, walking over towards her.
Ingrid pointed to a man with a black coat and blonde hair walking up the driveway, and starting towards William’s apartment.
“I’ll go find out,” he replied, frowning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Excuse me,” the professor said, as he hurriedly walked towards the man; “can I help you?”
William turned around, and smiled, “Oh, hello Professor, you’re home early. How was your trip?”
“My...? William is that you?” the professor asked, looking at him puzzled.
“Um...yeah, it’s me,” William replied, embarrassed as it dawned on him why the professor was asking.
“Oh...I didn’t recognize you,” he said, recovering from his shock. Still, he glanced over at the DeSoto, as if to reassure himself that the person in front of him, and the owner, were indeed one and the same.
William folded the top over the bag he was carrying to conceal its contents, then walked over to the professor.
“Guess I needed a bit of a change, though wasn’t sure I was looking for something quite as radical,” he said, shrugging.
The professor looked at him thoughtfully before slowly nodding.
“How was your trip? How’s Mrs. Wittman?” William asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, she’s doing well. Her cancer is in remission, as for the other problem, they won’t know the results until timetime next week. That’s why they sent us home early.”
“That’s great news! As for the other tests, I’m sure they’ll all turn out...”
Ingrid had opened the door between the housd gad garage. On hearing their voices just outside, she hit the garage door remote on the wall. As it lifted and the men came into view, her mouth fell open as she stared at William, wide-eyed.
“Ach du lieber!” she finally said, lapsing into her native German.
William blushed, realizing why she was staring.
“It’s our William,” said the professor, motioning toward him with one hand, while nodding towards her with the other.
William walked up to her slowly, his head down, until he was right in front of her, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m...I’m fine,” she said, looking at him from top to bottom, and shaking her head.
“Shocked you, did I?”
“You did,” she readily agreed. “What on earth possessed you”
”
“Ingrid!” Richard scolded gently. “Leave the boy alone.”
“That’s alright; it’s a fair question. Years ago, before I lost my memory that is, I used to look like this. Guess I just wanted to know what it might feel like to look like this again.”
Ingrid stood there, still shaking her head. Stopping, she looked him in the eyes, as if trying to ascertain something, until feeling naked under her scrutiny, William looked away.
“And how does it feel?” she asked him softly.
William paused for a moment before answering. “I don’t quite know yet; guess I’m still working it out.”
She nodded slowly.
“Well, guess I’ll be getting back to the house,” Richard said. “Charley looks well, the rascal didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
“Not at all, we got along fine. Though, he did a bit of what you two did just now, when he first saw the ‘new’ me,” William chuckled.
“I’m not surprised,” the professor said. “Well, good-night then. Thanks for looking out for him.”
“Was glad to; we kept each other company.”
The professor walked back into the house through the garage.liamliam nodded, then went to retrieve his bag. As he straightened up, he felt her hand on his arm, and turned to look at her.
“Don’t lose yourself, or hide behind this, William,” she s her her gaze sweeping over her her kindly eyes imploring him.
“I...I won’t,” he said, swallowing, his mouth suddenly gone dry.
She released his arm, nodding. “Good-night, William.”
“Good-night, Mrs. Wittman.”
“Ingrid,” she said, smiling gently at him.
“Ingrid, then,” he said, nodding.
“It’ll all work out William. You’ll see,” she said, as she walked back into the garage.
He stood there staring after her, until the door came down.
“Wish that I could believe that,” he said softly, before walking up to his apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:30PM
Since the night of his fight with Tommy, he’d laid low, only going to the corner store for a frozen can of orange juice, milk, and another bottle of Jack Daniels. It was becoming a good friend lately, the kind that let him forget all about the things that he couldn’t face, and his loneliness. At least for a while.
Now, full of nervous energy, and strangely unsettled from the encounter with the Wittmans, William took out the bottle he’d just purchased, and poured himself a shot into the remains of his ‘morning’ tea. Distractedly, he stared at some stupid Survivor show on the television. He scoffed, as some of the tribe members whined and complained to the cameras on how they were wasting away from the lack of protein, unless they ate bugs. And oh, the hardship of having to make do with trying to open a can of beans by bashing it with a rock, blah, blah...
“Try surviving the Hellmouth for years like Elizabeth did, like Dawn did, like all of them did, then talk to me about real surviving. Let’s see any of you tossers take that on!”
He glanced towards the floor where the laptop still sat, ever since running into Dawn online the other night. He reached for it, then hesitated; "This is stupid, it's going to bite you," he said, berating himself.
“Welcome! You’ve got mail!” the computer’s automated voice told him as soon as he logged on.
He glanced towards it, figuring it was just the old mail, but then saw the email from Elizabeth. Moving the mouse to open it, William watched in consternation, as it scurried all over the screen, like when he’d first learned how to use one. He lifted up his hand, and looked at it; it was trembling. With effort, he brought it under control, and clicked on her letter.
"Oh no luv, no," he mumbled, as her pain, not relief filled words, seared him in their simplicity.
He grabbed the bottle and took a long drink, closing his eyes for a moment, before hitting the reply button.
15 Oct. 2009
Dearest Elizabeth,
You’re not alone in the not understanding anything anymore, luv. I don’t either, but I need to – that’s why I had to go.
Please don’t think that I don’t love you still, I do. I always will. I just don’t know if that’s enough right now, or even fair that I do.
I don’t hate you, Elizabeth. Please don’t ever think that; I could never hate you.
What’s done is done. I know you tried to protect me, and while I may disagree with you and everyone not telling me, I know why you did it.
You didn’t make me what I was, so I can’t see that the failure is yours at all.
Believe me, it’s not that I don’t want to be there with you!
But doesn’t really matter what I want; we have to do what’s best, yeah?
I’m okay. You don’t need to worry aboe. Ie. I saw Lawrence, as you probably already know, so I now have my money to use. I’m not living in my car, or on the street, so you can rest easy on that account.
Yours always,
William
Setting the computer aside, he rose from the couch, and paced restlessly around the apartment before walking into the bedroom. Digging through the pile of clothes, which had been collecting on the floor, he found the pair of jeans he was looking for. Checking the pocket, he pulled out the yellow neon flyer that Miranda had given him.
He unfolded it, and looked at the information. Catching his attention was the part reading: Poetry Slam, nightly 10:00pm. Now through Halloween ! He wasn’t sure what that was, but since it mentioned poetry, it must be a fairly civilized place he figured. Though he wasn’t quite so sure that he could stand to hear sad or evocative verse, anything would be better than going stir crazy here another night. He checked his watch; he could easily make it by the time it started, even if it was an hour away.
“Except you don’t know where you’re going, you git!”
He thought about calling Miranda for directions, but quickly decided against that, instead he tried the printed number on the flyer. After a dozen or so rings someone answered. William tried to ask for directions from San Marcos, but all he could hear was that the person couldn’t make out what he was saying; then the line went dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:00PM
“I just wanted to bring this by,” Professor Wittman said, as William opened up his apartment door. He held out a map to William.
“Oh, thanks a and and I took your suggestion and got the directions from Mapquest, but I’m sure the map will help. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”
“No, you keep this one, I have another somewhere.”
“Thanks, Professor, I appreciate it.”
“Have a good night,” the professor said, and headed back down the stairs with a wave.
William shoved the map ione one of the duster’s long pockets, then tore off the page of his notebook with the directions he’d written down. Grabbing his keys, he headed out ther.
r.
END CHAPTER 163
OER 1ER 15, 2009
WEDNESDAY
8:00PM
“Good to be home, isn’t it?” Profe Wit Wittman said, as he put the suitcases down by the door.
Ingrid smiled fondly at him, “Very,” she said, patting him on the arm, knowing that these trips to the clinic were as hard on him, as they were on her.
“Hello Charley! How have you been old boy? William treat you well while we were gone?” Richard asked.
The cat purred in response, rubbing against both of his owner’s legs.
“He’s just fine,” Ingrid said, bending over to pick him up. She walked into the living room with Charlie, pulling the cord on the drapes back.
“Who is that Richard?”
“Who’s who?” the professor asked, walking over towards her.
Ingrid pointed to a man with a black coat and blonde hair walking up the driveway, and starting towards William’s apartment.
“I’ll go find out,” he replied, frowning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Excuse me,” the professor said, as he hurriedly walked towards the man; “can I help you?”
William turned around, and smiled, “Oh, hello Professor, you’re home early. How was your trip?”
“My...? William is that you?” the professor asked, looking at him puzzled.
“Um...yeah, it’s me,” William replied, embarrassed as it dawned on him why the professor was asking.
“Oh...I didn’t recognize you,” he said, recovering from his shock. Still, he glanced over at the DeSoto, as if to reassure himself that the person in front of him, and the owner, were indeed one and the same.
William folded the top over the bag he was carrying to conceal its contents, then walked over to the professor.
“Guess I needed a bit of a change, though wasn’t sure I was looking for something quite as radical,” he said, shrugging.
The professor looked at him thoughtfully before slowly nodding.
“How was your trip? How’s Mrs. Wittman?” William asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, she’s doing well. Her cancer is in remission, as for the other problem, they won’t know the results until timetime next week. That’s why they sent us home early.”
“That’s great news! As for the other tests, I’m sure they’ll all turn out...”
Ingrid had opened the door between the housd gad garage. On hearing their voices just outside, she hit the garage door remote on the wall. As it lifted and the men came into view, her mouth fell open as she stared at William, wide-eyed.
“Ach du lieber!” she finally said, lapsing into her native German.
William blushed, realizing why she was staring.
“It’s our William,” said the professor, motioning toward him with one hand, while nodding towards her with the other.
William walked up to her slowly, his head down, until he was right in front of her, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m...I’m fine,” she said, looking at him from top to bottom, and shaking her head.
“Shocked you, did I?”
“You did,” she readily agreed. “What on earth possessed you”
”
“Ingrid!” Richard scolded gently. “Leave the boy alone.”
“That’s alright; it’s a fair question. Years ago, before I lost my memory that is, I used to look like this. Guess I just wanted to know what it might feel like to look like this again.”
Ingrid stood there, still shaking her head. Stopping, she looked him in the eyes, as if trying to ascertain something, until feeling naked under her scrutiny, William looked away.
“And how does it feel?” she asked him softly.
William paused for a moment before answering. “I don’t quite know yet; guess I’m still working it out.”
She nodded slowly.
“Well, guess I’ll be getting back to the house,” Richard said. “Charley looks well, the rascal didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
“Not at all, we got along fine. Though, he did a bit of what you two did just now, when he first saw the ‘new’ me,” William chuckled.
“I’m not surprised,” the professor said. “Well, good-night then. Thanks for looking out for him.”
“Was glad to; we kept each other company.”
The professor walked back into the house through the garage.liamliam nodded, then went to retrieve his bag. As he straightened up, he felt her hand on his arm, and turned to look at her.
“Don’t lose yourself, or hide behind this, William,” she s her her gaze sweeping over her her kindly eyes imploring him.
“I...I won’t,” he said, swallowing, his mouth suddenly gone dry.
She released his arm, nodding. “Good-night, William.”
“Good-night, Mrs. Wittman.”
“Ingrid,” she said, smiling gently at him.
“Ingrid, then,” he said, nodding.
“It’ll all work out William. You’ll see,” she said, as she walked back into the garage.
He stood there staring after her, until the door came down.
“Wish that I could believe that,” he said softly, before walking up to his apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:30PM
Since the night of his fight with Tommy, he’d laid low, only going to the corner store for a frozen can of orange juice, milk, and another bottle of Jack Daniels. It was becoming a good friend lately, the kind that let him forget all about the things that he couldn’t face, and his loneliness. At least for a while.
Now, full of nervous energy, and strangely unsettled from the encounter with the Wittmans, William took out the bottle he’d just purchased, and poured himself a shot into the remains of his ‘morning’ tea. Distractedly, he stared at some stupid Survivor show on the television. He scoffed, as some of the tribe members whined and complained to the cameras on how they were wasting away from the lack of protein, unless they ate bugs. And oh, the hardship of having to make do with trying to open a can of beans by bashing it with a rock, blah, blah...
“Try surviving the Hellmouth for years like Elizabeth did, like Dawn did, like all of them did, then talk to me about real surviving. Let’s see any of you tossers take that on!”
He glanced towards the floor where the laptop still sat, ever since running into Dawn online the other night. He reached for it, then hesitated; "This is stupid, it's going to bite you," he said, berating himself.
“Welcome! You’ve got mail!” the computer’s automated voice told him as soon as he logged on.
He glanced towards it, figuring it was just the old mail, but then saw the email from Elizabeth. Moving the mouse to open it, William watched in consternation, as it scurried all over the screen, like when he’d first learned how to use one. He lifted up his hand, and looked at it; it was trembling. With effort, he brought it under control, and clicked on her letter.
"Oh no luv, no," he mumbled, as her pain, not relief filled words, seared him in their simplicity.
He grabbed the bottle and took a long drink, closing his eyes for a moment, before hitting the reply button.
15 Oct. 2009
Dearest Elizabeth,
You’re not alone in the not understanding anything anymore, luv. I don’t either, but I need to – that’s why I had to go.
Please don’t think that I don’t love you still, I do. I always will. I just don’t know if that’s enough right now, or even fair that I do.
I don’t hate you, Elizabeth. Please don’t ever think that; I could never hate you.
What’s done is done. I know you tried to protect me, and while I may disagree with you and everyone not telling me, I know why you did it.
You didn’t make me what I was, so I can’t see that the failure is yours at all.
Believe me, it’s not that I don’t want to be there with you!
But doesn’t really matter what I want; we have to do what’s best, yeah?
I’m okay. You don’t need to worry aboe. Ie. I saw Lawrence, as you probably already know, so I now have my money to use. I’m not living in my car, or on the street, so you can rest easy on that account.
Yours always,
William
Setting the computer aside, he rose from the couch, and paced restlessly around the apartment before walking into the bedroom. Digging through the pile of clothes, which had been collecting on the floor, he found the pair of jeans he was looking for. Checking the pocket, he pulled out the yellow neon flyer that Miranda had given him.
He unfolded it, and looked at the information. Catching his attention was the part reading: Poetry Slam, nightly 10:00pm. Now through Halloween ! He wasn’t sure what that was, but since it mentioned poetry, it must be a fairly civilized place he figured. Though he wasn’t quite so sure that he could stand to hear sad or evocative verse, anything would be better than going stir crazy here another night. He checked his watch; he could easily make it by the time it started, even if it was an hour away.
“Except you don’t know where you’re going, you git!”
He thought about calling Miranda for directions, but quickly decided against that, instead he tried the printed number on the flyer. After a dozen or so rings someone answered. William tried to ask for directions from San Marcos, but all he could hear was that the person couldn’t make out what he was saying; then the line went dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:00PM
“I just wanted to bring this by,” Professor Wittman said, as William opened up his apartment door. He held out a map to William.
“Oh, thanks a and and I took your suggestion and got the directions from Mapquest, but I’m sure the map will help. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”
“No, you keep this one, I have another somewhere.”
“Thanks, Professor, I appreciate it.”
“Have a good night,” the professor said, and headed back down the stairs with a wave.
William shoved the map ione one of the duster’s long pockets, then tore off the page of his notebook with the directions he’d written down. Grabbing his keys, he headed out ther.
r.
END CHAPTER 163