ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 172 – WHAT I HAVE TO DO; AS A MAN

NOVEMBER 20, 2009
THURSDAY
1:00AM

William's eyes flew open, the echoes of both their screams still pulsing on the edge of his nightmare. Heart pounding, his hands went to his face, first feeling along his eyebrows and forehead, and then his teeth. Despite his wanting to bolt upright, he eased himself out of the bed, as to not wake Elizabeth. Somehow he managed to find his pants and shirt, and pulled them on before letting himself out of the bedroom.

He headed for his duster, hanging near the door, and grabbed the cigarettes out of the pocket, before pulling it on. Next, he went into the kitchen, and opened the cabinet door underneath the sink. There in the far right corner, behind the cleaning supplies, was a bottle of gin he'd stashed. He grabbed it, and headed onto the back porch.

Hands trembling, he only hesitated for a moment before taking a long pull on the bottle. His teeth clenched as the burning liquid hit his stomach. He felt the rising nausea from the combination of the alcohol, and the memory of the coppery taste in his mouth, and made for the back door, running outside just in time to empty the his stomach onto the grass. Lifting his head, he surveyed the contents, almost expecting to see blood in the mix. Luckily, there wasn't.

"Jeez, are you okay, Spike?" Clem's voice asked, from out of the darkness.

William stood up and backed away as quick as he could, nearly avoiding smacking into a tree.

He froze, seeing William's reaction.

"Clem," William finally spoke, "it's you."

"Yeah, just me," Clem said, relaxing a bit. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"I just...what are you doing here? I mean right now; in the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk. That, and I was going to drop off some things for you guys; food things."

William looked at the bag Clem was carrying for the first time.

"I was just going to leave it on the back porch; not knock or anything."

"Oh. Well...thanks."

Clem nodded. "What about you? Are you getting sick with the flu, too?"

William looked at him blankly, until Clem motioned to the vomit. William shook his head, and his shoulders slumped, as he sat down in front of the tree he'd nearly stumbled into, and lit a cigarette. Clem sat down a few feet from him, waiting.

"I thought I could do it," he said softly, taking a deep drag from the cigarette.

"Do what?"

"This," William said, motioning with his hands to everything around him, "stay here with Elizabeth, take care of her; go back to the way things were. For a while tonight, I almost believed it was possible."

"What changed?" Clem asked.

William shook his head.

“You guys have a fight?”

“No, nothing like that. Quiet the opposite, in fact,” he said, with a pained laugh.

William puffed on his cigarette as they sat there in silence for a few minutes. Finally he looked up at Clem.

“It’s these nightmares I been having.”

Clem studied his face; it was the picture of pain and dejection. “Everyone has nightmares sometimes. I think after what happened to you that's sort of to be expected. Know what I mean? Whatever they are, I don’t think that means you can’t stay here with Buffy.”

“I can’t! You don’t understand, in these nightmares I...it’s as if I’m him again!”

“Who? Spike?”

William nodded.

“Spike was an alright guy for a vampire. You did good things. You helped me, Edna, Buffy and her friends, and hey, Buffy did fall in love with you; I don't think she would've done that if you were all bad."

William ran his hands through his hair, in a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know how she could’ve, Clem. A woman like her - good, decent, The Slayer. How could she?"

Clem shrugged, “Love’s a funny thing.”

“I feel it inside me, when I have these nightmares.”

“What? Love?” Clem asked, confused.

“No! Not love. I feel the hate, the evil, the lust to kill," he said, looking at Clem.

“It’s still a nightmare,” Clem said, though something in the way his eyes had flared with the old intensity of Spike made Clem discreetly inch backwards.

“Is everyone a cold-blooded killer in their nightmares? I kill everyone in mine, including her; particularly, her,” William said, with a shudder.

“Shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” William said, with a small laugh.

“But you haven’t actually killed anyone recently, or drank any blood, right?”

"Of course not! Though, I did kill demons when I was working at Ipso Facto...bad demons,” he clarified.

“Well, that’s good. I mean good that they were bad," Clem said. "There you go."

William shook his head. “I don’t trust myself, I don’t know what’s happening to me. What if it's more than just nightmares, and I try to...?" he left the words unsaid, the meaning clear.

“You should tell Buffy what you’re going through, man. Maybe the two of you...”

“No! That’s just it. I can’t risk her that way; I won't. That's why I’m going away. At least until I can get some answers about my nightmares, and about who I was; when I was him.”

“Well, that’s just stupid...er, I mean silly,” Clem said, darting a careful glance at William. “What I mean, is that we can tell you all about him. Um...about yourself...Spike, that is. I’ve known you forever, and there’s Buffy, who knows you really, really, well. There’s Dawn...”

“No. I need to...I’m going to England, to stay with Mr. Giles for a while.”

“Her former watcher? Does Buffy know?”

“No, and I don’t want you to tell her.”

“Oh, man...”

“Please? I need to do this; alone.”

“If Buffy finds out I knew, she’s going to be really pissed at me,” Clem said, and wondering where he might stay to avoid the fallout. Perhaps with his cousin Marlong, in San Diego...

“Not as pissed as she’ll be at me; if that’s any consolation.”

Clem laughed, “Not really. Still, I don’t understand why you’d want to go and stay with Mr. Giles. From what Buffy told me, he hated you when you were a vampire.”

“Yeah, kind of got that impression, too. I mean, I don’t think he hates me now,” William said, shaking his head to clear it. “But in some ways that’s the point. The fact that he did, means he doesn’t have any reason to mollify the truth, or keep it from me.”

“You sure that’s what you want?” Clem asked.

William took his time answering it. “No, it’s not what I want; but it is what I need.”

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

2:00AM

Buffy didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, or being carried to bed, but at midnight she’d awaken, and found herself in basically the same position she had been on the couch. Only in reverse, with her arm wrapped around William’s waist, his hand holding tightly onto hers on his chest.

But when she woke now, she immediately sensed his absence. Troubled for reasons as yet unknown to her, she sat up, and grabbed her robe. Quietly, Buffy opened the door to her room, and went looking for William. She made a quick tour of the house, even calling up into the attic, but he wasn’t there. With a growing feeling of foreboding, she noticed his duster missing from the coat stand by the door.

Steeling herself for the worst, she forced herself look outside. She reached out and steadied herself, letting out a breath of relief, when she saw William’s car was still parked in front of the house. Backtracking to the kitchen, she let herself out onto the porch. That’s when she saw him sitting outside on the ground with Clem.

And it was at that very moment, that she knew.

Perhaps it was his posture; the slump of his shoulders, or the way his head was bent, but she knew. Her heart sank, as she watched him through the window, unseen.

Buffy watched as Clem finally rose to leave. A few minutes later, William got up, and headed back to the house. She turned, and hurried back into the bedroom.

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

William let himself in the back door, closing it softly. In the kitchen, he replaced the bottle of gin underneath the sink; sorry he’d taken it out in the first place. It hadn’t helped.

He let himself into the spare bedroom, and went into the bathroom from there, where he proceeded to brush his teeth, and gargle, hoping to erase the telltale signs of cigarettes and alcohol. Finished, he ran a comb through his hair, and undressed, before coming back into the bedroom.

Quietly, he laid his clothes over the chair, then crawled under the covers, careful not to disturb her. Elizabeth’s back was to him, and although he tried, William couldn’t resist sidling up to her again.

Buffy felt William’s arm go around her, and the whisper of a kiss being placed on her head. She intertwined her hand tightly in his, gathering up her courage, before turning around to face him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” William said, adjusting his embrace to her turn.

“You didn’t; not really,” Buffy said.

“How are you? You feeling okay? Do you need anything? A drink? An aspirin?” he asked, feeling her head.

Buffy laughed softly, “Stop worrying. I’m okay.” She paused, as she searched his face. “What about you? What do you need, William? What do you want?”

“Me? I’m... What do I...?” William started, then grew silent as the meaning of her words started to sink in.

“Elizabeth...”

“It’s okay,” she said, with a small, encouraging smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes, “tell me.”

William took a breath, “Elizabeth,” he started, “yesterday when I came over to apologize, I also came to tell you that...I’m going away for a while. Tomorrow.”

“You’ve already been away; how’s this any different?” Buffy asked, with a touch of bitterness creeping into her voice.

“Not running away from...everything this time. I see that now. Didn’t think I’d have classified it that way before, but how does that expression go? Hindsight is always 20/20?”

“Then if you’re not running away, why are you leaving?”

“Looking for answers this go around.”

“But why do you have to leave? I can help you...”

“No,” William said gently, “you can’t. At least not right now.”

She laid back on her pillow, and closed her eyes, willing the tears to not come.

“Elizabeth,” William said, leaning over her. “Look at me.”

Slowly Buffy opened her eyes. His blue eyes were directly above hers.

“I am not doing this to try to cut you out of my life,” he said, shaking his head, and willing her to believe him.

“No? Looks like it from where I sit; or lay may be the more accurate term. And hey, you’ve gotten a pretty good start on that already!”

“Elizabeth,” he said, trying hard not to be baited into an fight with her. “It’s what I have to do; as a man.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t stay, why you won’t let me help you through this. Why?” Buffy asked sitting up.

William sat up as well, and knelt on the bed in front of her, taking her hands. “This isn’t about my not wanting you in my life, nor is it about not wanting us to be together more than anything in this world; I do. I do,” he said, leaning forward and cupping her face in his hands, “but this is something I need to do for me.”

Buffy let his words sink in, finally giving a short nod. William let out a grateful breath at her acceptance.

“Can I at least ask you where you’re going?”

“Not right now,” William said, gently, then hurried to add, “but I’ll be in touch within a week or two. I promise you Elizabeth, I won’t keep you in the dark for very long.”

“Promise?”

“I just did,” he said softly, leaning over and kissing her forehead. She put her arms around him, and they hugged for a long while.

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

It was decided by them both, that William would leave early the next morning, before Buffy woke. They had already said their goodbyes the night before.

Although neither of them had thought they would actually be able to sleep, while enjoying the comfort of each other’s embrace for one last night, they had fallen asleep a couple of hours later.

William awoke around 8:00am. He stared at Elizabeth, willing his eyes to drink in the image of her, and his body to commit to memory, the feel of her against him, before starting his lonely journey. Finally, he rose, and got ready to leave.

He went into the spare room, and found her laptop, that she’d told him he could take. William had agreed, since the one at the apartment was the Wittman’s, and he didn’t know what the situation would be in England.

Grabbing the few things he had with him, plus a few more that had been at the house, he went out to the kitchen one last time. He jotted a quick note to her, and folded it, leaving it on the table.

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

8:45AM

William slowed down as he neared The Rittenhouse Restaurant, an idea forming in his head. He waited behind an early morning delivery truck just pulling out, before deciding to take it’s place at the curb. Pulling out a small pad of paper from his glove compartment, he wrote a note to Edna, asking her to please make up some of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes from the menu, which he listed, and letting her know that Clem or Dawn would be by later in the day to pick up the order. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out five twenties, and placed them inside the note. On a separate piece of paper, he then wrote a short, personal note to Edna.

That finished, he got out of the car, and walked up the sidewalk to the entrance.

In the dining room, Edna was straightening up the tables, when she heard the door open.

“I thought you’d already left, Henry,” Edna called out, thinking it was the delivery man again. She walked back towards the front of the restaurant. “What else do you have for me?”

William had started to put the note on the maitre’d’s podium, when he heard her voice from the dining room.

Seconds later, she appeared. Edna froze; her eyes grew wide with sudden confusion.

“Hello, Edna,” William said softly.

“William?” Edna asked, still not believing what her eyes were telling her they were seeing.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, smiling uncertainly.

“William?” she repeated.

“Holy moley. I think I’m having a flashback!”

Both William and Edna turned to see Wallace, walking toward them.

“Huh?” William asked, now more confused than ever.

“Dude! Have you looked at yourself lately?”

The light bulb in William’s head finally went off, as he realized why Edna had looked so flabbergasted, and what Wallace’s words had meant.

Embarrassed, he looked down. “Um...yeah. Sorry about that, forgot I looked different than the last time you saw me. Forget it myself, sometimes.”

Edna cleared her throat, regaining her equanimity. “No need to apologize for anything William. Wallace, will you please bring some coffee to us in my office?”

Before William could protest, she had him firmly by the arm, leading him through the dining room, into the kitchen, and beyond.

As he followed Edna to her office, William couldn’t help pausing, as he passed the open door to the small room, and sometimes, private dining area, where he had proposed to Elizabeth. It was now once more, filled with supplies.

“Ah, yes; it’s a mess once again, as you can see,” Edna remarked seeing him looking into the room.

He didn’t reply, just followed her into her office.

Edna cleared off a chair, covered in various papers and cartons, moving it to the front of her desk.

“Now you can sit,” she said, patting it.

“You’re looking well, Edna,” William said, as he took the seat.

She dismissed his compliment with a self-effacing hand gesture.

“And you look...”

“Bloody ridiculous?” William volunteered, looking down.

Before she could answer, Wallace brought the coffees, and set them down, then went back to the kitchen.

Edna reached across the table and put her hand over William’s, as he was reaching for his coffee, subconsciously reassured that he was still warm to the touch. “I was going to say you look just like you did before you went away. That’s all,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah, guess I do at that,” William answered with a nod.

They drank their coffees in silence for a while.

“So, what brings you to the restaurant this morning?”

“Oh. Of course,” William said, telling what had been in the note.

“Elizabeth’s been ill?” Edna asked, looking up at him, alarmed.

“Yeah, she was. I mean she is, but she’s doing much better.”

“Oh my, I wish I’d known. I could’ve sent over something much sooner...”

“Don’t think it would’ve done much good then, seeing as she couldn’t keep anything down.”

“Of course. Goodness, that flu that’s going around has been just terrible. I’m glad I let my doctor talk me into a shot this year,” she rambled on a bit, the last thing caught his attention, however. “It’s a good thing that you’re there to take care of her. I’m so glad you’re back together...”

William cleared his throat. “Um...we’re not; not exactly. That’s why Dawn or Clem will be picking up the order. I’m going away for a while. I’m leaving today, in fact. I was just heading back to San Marcos to pack, when I decided to stop here first.”

“San Marcos?”

Fearing the disappointment he was sure to see in her eyes, he looked down as he spoke. “Yeah, been living there since last you saw me, tended bar for a while,” he said, giving her the abbreviated version of what his life had been like.

“I see,” Edna said, after a while. “What I don’t see though, is why two people who love each other as much as you and Elizabeth do, aren’t together. I’ve lived a long, long time, and I know exactly what I see when I look at the two of you; it’s a rare thing, William. So tell me, why are you going away, instead of staying here, where you belong?”

“It’s complicated...”

“What could be so complicated that you couldn’t work it out here, with Elizabeth at your side?”

“Edna,” William said, his hands going up to run through his hair. “You don’t know everything about me; if you did, I don’t think you would...let’s just say, you probably wouldn’t feel the same about me. Bloody h...uh, sorry,” he apologized, catching himself. “I didn’t even know everything about me, until recently. That’s why I’m leaving; there’s other things...things I need to know; have to find out.”

“William, there’s nothing; nothing you could tell me that would change my mind about you.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” William asked.

“I am, even if you’re not,” Edna answered evenly. “It’s one of the few, true benefits of age, the ability to see; really see people for what they are, despite appearances, despite a lot of things,” she said, holding him in her gaze.

“It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Even if I don’t share the same opinion,” William said, ruefully.

“When I look at you, I see a good man, plain and simple. Not that your life has been that, dare I say. But despite whatever it is you either know about yourself, or find out, when you go looking, you’re a good person inside, William. I think that counts for a lot, if not everything.”

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

9:30AM

“Good-bye, William. You take good care of yourself,” Edna said, giving him a hug. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re hoping to find out about yourself. Just remember, no matter what that is, this is your home; where you’re loved and accepted for you.”

“I won’t forget,” he answered.

“Promise an old woman?”

“Who’s old?” he asked, taking a step back to look at her in mock surprise.

“William!” she said with a delighted giggle, though still trying to sound serious.

“I promise,” he said solemnly. “Well, I’d better be on my way.”

Edna released him. “Go on, then,” she said, giving him a gentle shove.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Wallace said, joining William as he walked down the steps.

“I wanted to thank you for everything you did last time I was here. I was a real mess.”

“No problem,” Wallace said, shrugging.

“Yeah, it was. Listen, I left a note on the podium when I first came in; before I saw Edna. It’s got the list of dishes I wanted Elizabeth to have made up for her. There’s enough money to cover it all, plus the amount I owed you is there, too.”

“You didn’t have to worry about that.”

“Wasn’t worried, just wanted to pay you back like I said I would.”

“Thanks, that’s cool,” Wallace said.

“Glad Edna didn’t see the note yet, she never wants to take my money.”

“Nope, not her William’s money,” Wallace said, grinning.

“Take care, Wallace,” William said, shaking his hand, then he was off.

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

10:15AM

William was in the bathroom, packing up his shaving kit, and other essentials, when he heard someone knocking softly at his door. Taking a quick glance out of the window, he saw the car he’d been told to expect.

“Hello, you must be William. I’m Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, and I assume this little fellow is yours?” Wesley said, motioning to the cat, standing next to him.

William watched as Charlie ran between Wesley’s feet, and into the apartment. He turned his attention back to Wesley, shaking his outstretched hand. “Actually Charlie belongs to my landlord.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, just getting a few last things together. Come in, I won’t be but a minute,” he said, returning to the bathroom, to finish gathering up his toiletries.

Wesley looked around the apartment, the book collection being what caught his attention. William came into the living room with his luggage.

“You like poetry, I see,” Wesley remarked.

“Um...yes. Always have, rather.”

“I do as well,” Wesley said, nodding appreciatively. They discussed the various poets for a few minutes. Wesley watched and listened in fascination, as William talked rather passionately about some of his favorites.

“Have you ever written any poetry yourself?” he asked.

Of course, he already knew from the information that Rupert Giles had forwarded to him, that William had been raised in the Victorian Era, and that William Worthington had been known to be fond of writing verse. This information, garnered from the few interviews with acquaintances taken after William had disappeared, had survived in the Scotland Yard archives.

Perversely, that anything of such a mundane nature, as a young man being reported missing by his mother, survived at all, was probably due to the Jack the Ripper killings. Happening around the same time, the authorities had at first sought to keep it quiet. However, soon the heinous and bestial nature of the crimes became the talk of the day in all London society. The consequent public outcry thus forcing Scotland Yard to not only be much more thorough in its attention to detail, but to retain every and all leads in a crime, until that crime was solved.

“Tried my hand at it in the past, wasn’t very good though, I’m afraid,” William had replied, modestly.

“Well, maybe one day when time allows, you’ll permit me to see some of your work,” Wesley said.

“Don’t think so,” William said, shaking his head. As far as he knew, only Elizabeth had ever seen any poetry he’d written - that mostly because it was for her, and about her.

“Well, we’d best be off. I’ll grab these, while you get the cat,” Wesley said, grabbing William’s suitcases.

“Thanks,” William said, then went looking for Charlie. Ten minutes later, with Charlie in tow, he knocked on the Wittman’s door. Ingrid came to the door a few moments later.

“William, what a surprise. And Charlie! Rascal’s been missing for almost two days. Where did you find him?”

“My friend found him on my doorstep when he came to collect me.”

“Thanks for bringing him home,” Richard said, joining Ingrid at the door.

“My pleasure,” he said, handing over Charlie to Professor Wittman. The cat meowed loudly at the indignity of it all.

“Well, I’ve got to be off,” William said, motioning to Wesley’s car. “I’m going out of town for a while, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’d still like to keep the apartment, though. If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course, William. You’re still paid up for months yet. Do you know when you’ll be back?”

William shook his head, “I don’t, but if it runs past April, I’ll have my solicitor send you the money.”

“We’re not worried about it, William. You just take care,” Ingrid said.

“I will. Bye now,” William said, giving Charlie a final pet, before heading over to his car. He reached into the back seat, retrieving the laptop that he’d gotten from Elizabeth.

“You ready?” Wes said, as William got into the passenger seat.

“Yes,” William answered, as Wesley started backing down the driveway.

“Wait! I’m sorry, there’s something I forgot.”

“Okay,” Wesley said, putting the car into park.

“Be right back,” William said, dashing up to the stairs.

Once inside, he headed straight for the night table in his bedroom. He opened up the little box containing Elizabeth’s necklace and ring to reassure himself they were still there, then slipped it into his front jeans pocket.

“Get everything you need?” Wesley asked him, as he got back into the car.

“I’m ready now,” William replied.

END CHAPTER 172