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The Monster You Made Me	By : Spuffy_Lover1990 Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > General Views: 149 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of myself. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1 An Ending A Beginning
- 1
It was one of those rare afternoons in fall where time felt suspended.

The fading sun had begun to dip behind the treeline casting the last of it's warm amber glow over William's backyard. Tiny birds fluttered from branch to branch through the trees, their songs trembling through the air like broken pieces of a lullaby. Dappled shadows danced over the grass, clinging to each blade like a second skin. A gentle breeze nudged the low hanging branches of an old oak, gently rustling the leaves, and it carried with it the aroma of grilled onions and steak - the mouth-watering scent made William's stomach rumble.

His attention fixed on his mother and godmother as they chatted idly, sipping wine while setting the outdoor table. They moseyed about in a dreamlike state, as if they too wanted to freeze in this moment forever. Nearby his father and Hank hovered over the barbeque, more interested in beer and talking football than the sizzling food. Their voices drifted lazily into the trees.

William sat perched on a sturdy branch, his little legs dangling lazily in the air. "How much longer? I'm hungry," he whined, cutting through the stillness.

Buffy's childish giggles floated towards him, as she spun herself dizzy on the old tyre swing. "You're always hungry," she replied, her voice distorted as she twirled wildly through the air. "It'll be ready when it's ready."

The world passed her by in a warped blur, colours and shapes blending together as she floated like a leaf caught in an up-draft. I wonder if the sky looks different in Cleveland? she wondered, though it didn't really matter if it did. All she wanted was to stay like this forever.

"It's been hours!" William groaned impatiently, looking down at her. He watched, mesmerised by the way her hair caught the last rays of light, adorning her in a halo of dusty gold that made her seem less human and more magical. A strange pang settled in his chest - a sense that something very important was about to slip away. He felt an inexplicable urge to say something, anything, but remained silent.

Buffy rolled her eyes as the spinning began to slow. "It's been thirty minutes..." her voice trailed off and her head lolled back dizzily. Hands firmly gripping the tyre rope, she stared past William and up at the sky through the tangle of tree limbs. The colours of dusk had deepened; hot pinks, vibrant oranges and dark reds all bleeding into one another as the sun dipped lower. Her mind was somewhere else entirely, her gaze following the rolling clouds as if searching for something no one else could see.

William had never understood how Buffy could so easily drift off into her own world, leaving him on the outside. She turned slowly, as if waking from a dream, offering him a weak smile. "'Sides," she drawled, "the longer they take, the longer I get to stay..." he watched as her gaze dropped, her fingers tracing the worn, cracked edges of the tyre. There was something in the way she had looked at him. It made him feel hollow, as if he were already fading into the background.

Buffy hesitated for a second before she continued, the words catching in her throat, her mouth suddenly bone dry. She squeezed her eyes closed and wished with all her might it wasn't true. But it was, and sadly, she knew it was really happening this time.

"We leave tomorrow..." she whispered, her voice as soft as the leaves falling around them. Biting her lip, she recalled the countless times she'd swung from this tree, the hours she'd spend observing William as he scribbled away in his notebook. She tried but she couldn't find a word to describe the happy-sad feeling that was already colouring her memories here. She only knew that it felt like her world was coming to an end.

William winced, sadness washing over him. A heavy silence grew between them. He'd tried to forget the news she had told him while they were trick or treating. He'd tried to forget, to shove the thoughts away, but they'd lingered deep in the back of his mind. Thankfully, a series of setbacks had prolonged the inevitable but now the moment was finally upon them. His bestest friend in all the world was leaving Sunnydale - leaving him.

His sadness was soon replaced with an anger that knotted and churned in the pit of his stomach, threatening to explode. Eyes still locked on Buffy, her head bowed and legs kicking at the air around her as if she were trying to repel time itself from claiming this moment. "I already told you, you're not going," he said firmly. "'sides, you can't leave." The words sounded more intense than he had intended. "You promised."

"I don't have a choice," Buffy mumbled glumly, trying her hardest not to cry. She cursed her dad for taking a job offer in Cleveland, of all places. "But I'll be back for the holidays, remember?" she said, more to herself than him. Perking up a little, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. When she finally turned, tilting her head back to peer up at William, she found him already looking down at her. He had a strange look plastered on his face, different somehow from his usual expressions. This one made her body shudder despite the heat that flushed her cheeks. She didn't like it when he looked at her like that, and the butterflies in her stomach didn't seem to like it either. She shifted uncomfortably.

"No," William shook his head adamantly, "because you're not going." He knew if she left tomorrow, things would never be the same.

In his periphery he caught sight of something moving across the lawn. He stopped shaking his head to focus on it - Mr. Jingles, his neighbour's slinky, black cat with big yellow eyes was cutting through his yard and prowling towards the small patch of woodland that connected to his backyard. Buffy and her impending move momentarily forgotten, an anger rose inside him as he reached across, nearly slipping from his perch, to snap a limb closest to him. Eyes narrowing on his target he let out a loud "Ttttssskk!"

The twig sliced through the air towards the unsuspecting feline.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, her gaze following the direction William had thrown the stick, watching as it landed with a muffled thud amongst the freshly mowed grass - mere inches away from Mr Jingles. The sudden noise spooked him, and the cat gave out a terrible yowl and scampered off towards the woods.

"What did you do that for?"

"Balls!" William hissed, as Mr. Jingles disappeared beyond the safety of the tree line and out of sight. "The feral thing killed two crows and a baby rabbit for fun!"

The tone in William's voice made Buffy's skin crawl, and not in the strange way it had earlier. "Noooo -" she let out a soft whimper, "not Thumper?" In a panic her eyes darted around frantically, scanning the yard for any sign of him. This was usually the time of day she saw him most, right before darkness blanketed the lawn. Her shoulders slumped in defeat when she failed to find him, tears pooling once more.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you. Sorry," William apologised, chastising himself for the slip. Peering down, he watched as Buffy's tiny frame hugged the tyre, a single teardrop rolling down her cheek. "Don't worry, when I get a hold of him, he won't be killing anything else!"

Buffy couldn't help but crack a faint smile, forcing a little chuckle at William's attempts to be threatening. She knew he was harmless, all claws and no bite. But she did enjoy it when he tried though. "What are you going to do, Will?" she taunted as her smile twisted into a mischievous smirk. "Bore it to death with some of your poetry?" she joked. "You haven't got it in you."

William rolled his shoulders. He wanted to laugh it off, but he couldn't. "I do so!" He snapped, kicking the rope attached to the tyre, causing it to jerk violently and an unsuspecting Buffy to fall, landing flat on her back amongst the fallen leaves. She laid there for a moment, stunned. Her Cheshire Cat grin never faltered, and instead grew wider at his reaction.

Deciding to see how far she could push him, she stuck out her tongue playfully. "Do not!"

William leapt out of the tree, his boots landing on the hard ground below with a heavy thud. "Yeah, I do!" He shouted, storming towards Buffy. She squealed, quickly rising to her feet, brushing the muck off her dress. He got right in her face, forcing her to take a couple of steps backwards. He kept advancing until she came into contact with the tree trunk, her back pressed up against it.

Buffy smiled at him innocently, batting her long ashes as if she hadn't intentionally provoked him, and watched his anger slowly melt away. "Fine..." He could never stay mad at her for long, but their play fights were always fun. "You're a big meanie. The big bad," she quipped sarcastically.

"And, don't you forget it," he huffed. The words were an empty threat, one he was sure she could see straight through. He straightened, puffing out his chest, and brushed a stray curl out of his face. He knew she was being sarcastic, that she didn't really mean it. He was a marshmallow, as she so fondly called him from time to time. All he could do was stand there, inches away, his feet rooted firmly into place while his heart pounded in a rhythm that felt like a countdown. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for - an apology, maybe, or for her to say something to make the tightness in his chest ease, if even a little. But she too remained silent.

His body pressed firmly against hers, sandwiching her between him and the old oak. Her face is so close... His fingers brushed against her shoulder and for a brief moment, he felt her lean into his touch, as if holding onto whatever fleeting comfort it brought. He could feel the warmth of her skin under his fingertips, hear the way her breathing became ragged. The scent of vanilla, faint but intoxicating, clung to her flesh, mingling with the earth scent of damp grass and decaying leaves. It was then that he began to feel something deeper tugging at him, a feeling he couldn't quite name - only that it made him wish she'd never leave.

He studied her features carefully. Something was different, though he couldn't quite tell what it was. She looked like the same Buffy. Her eyes were still the same dazzling emerald that sparkled in the sunbeams that filtered through the branches above, creating a hypnotic dance of light and shadow across her face. Her soft skin was still the same, sun-kissed, despite the fact the sun had been missing for the better part of Autumn. Something was definitely different about her, but he still wasn't quite sure what it was.

Her breath hitched, and he caught it - something hidden in her eyes, something that said she, too, had noticed something changing and growing between them. And for a split second, he couldn't decide if he wanted to lean closer or pull away. But neither of them moved.

They just stood frozen in time, the world around them narrowing until it all but faded into nothingness, and it was just the two of them. Two people caught in a moment neither would fully understand until they were much older. Their warm breath mingling in the air, caught in the space between time and words, unsure of the next step, but knowing there was no turning back. Neither could see how the small actions - like a twig being thrown at an indifferent cat - would mark a turning point. That a simple touch and the heat of their bodies, would feel like everything and nothing all at once.

His gaze dropped to her lips - pouty and slightly parted, as if she were about to tell him a secret. A trill prickled through him, and he felt an unexplainable urge to bite it, to feel the softness of her skin give way between his teeth. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way, only that he liked it. She's the same old Buffy, so why does my heart feel like I've run a mile?

Buffy shifted uncomfortably, the bark hard and rough against her back. It itched and she desperately wanted to scratch it but a part of her didn't want to move. She wasn't sure why, only that she didn't mind the way his body felt against hers, or the way his shimmering sapphire eyes studied her. Her breath came out uneven, unsure of what would come next. She willed the fluttering in her belly to settle as her senses flooded with the scent of ink and old books that rolled off him and made her head spin.

Her mind drifting, she couldn't remember a time when she didn't see William with his nose in a book or scribbling away in his notepad. She always wondered what he was writing in there, but he never let her read his poems or see his drawings. Once when she had tried to sneak a peek, thinking he was in the bathroom, he'd caught her before she had even flipped it open. Her eyes fluttered shut, a sadness washing over her. I'm going to miss this.

When her eyes blinked open, she found William still staring at her. The same goofy look from earlier plastered on his features. The intense glare made her fidget, her thoughts turning into a jumble of things she didn't quite understand. Dropping her arms to her side, she nervously began picking at the bark. The combination of the butterflies and nerves soon became overwhelming.

"What are you staring at?"

He didn't respond, just kept staring. Finally she'd had enough, raising her hand to give him a playful shove, the action making him stagger backwards. His heel came into contact with an exposed tree root, and his limbs flailed wildly as the ground rushed up to meet him with a meaty thump.

As quickly as it began, it was over. William had no idea what happened. One minute he was trying to figure out what was different about Buffy, and the next he was on his arse in the dirt. An embarrassed grin stretched across his lips, he rubbed his shoulder where she'd pushed him. His body still felt strange from the lingering warmth of their earlier contact.

"Wanna play hide and seek?"

"Huh?"

"Hide...and...seek. You wanna play?" she asked again, exaggeratingly drawing out each word, her tone sweetly mocking but tinged with something faintly sad.

William felt his cheeks flush, his hand drifting to the back of his neck, he rubbed it nervously. "uh... yeah... Sure..." He stammered, not knowing what to say but feeling like he was missing something.

"Great! You can count first!" Buffy laughed - light and quick and gone. She was already darting away before he could protest, her giggles trailing behind her as she disappeared into the dusky haze of the backyard. Running as if she could outrun time itself.

He watched her go, a flicker of confusion and something else etched across his face, his hand coming back to rest where she'd pushed him. A vain attempt to capture that brief, electric feeling once more. He didn't know what it was, only that he wanted to hold on to it. He sighed, closing his eyes, and began to count.

One... Two... Three...

He knew Buffy hated it when he counted out loud. She loved the thrill of not knowing, the kind of surprise that made her eyes widen, and mouth dropping into that perfect O. He knew even now, in a way he didn't fully understand, he was already holding onto memories that hadn't yet faded.

Opening one eye, he peered around the yard, searching for her familiar shape. A small smile pulling at his lips, he brushed off his denim pants and set out to find her, hoping she hadn't strayed too far from the garden.

It took him only a matter of minutes to find her, tucked away in the cramped, shadowy garden shed. It was an odd choice for her, she hated things that hid in dark corners. Surprisingly, she had stuck it out in the hopes of outsmarting him. He would never have thought to look for her there had it not been for the accidental crash - a paint tin, inadvertently knocked off a shelf when she tripped.

"No fair," she pouted, stamping her bare feet on the grimy shed flood. Disturbing the thick layer of dust, sending them both into sneezing fits, they quickly made for the exit. Once outside in the fresh, cool air, Buffy closed her eyes, and began to count as William darted off, his eyes already looking around for the perfect place to hide.

William's gaze flicked to the edge of the lawn, where the woods loomed, tempting and inviting. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Buffy to see if she was peeking - a bad habit she had. Satisfied she wasn't, he slipped quietly into the maze of trees, letting the shadows swallow him whole.

Buffy grumbled to herself, sulking. Why do I have to be so unco. I could have made the game last longer.

After what seemed like an eternity, her bright green eyes popped open, adjusting to the dimming light of the day, wondering where William had hidden himself. She started with the cubby house but found only silence, then she searched behind the oak tree, coming up empty. Frustrated, she began circling the yard, pausing on the patio where her mother and Annie lounged on deckchairs in the fading light. They were talking in a low, murmuring lull that drew her attention.

She stilled, her ears catching a fragmented whisper - her name, then William's. Curiosity burning inside her, she moved closer, feigning interest in the bowls of salad, scattered cutlery and glasses on the table. Her little ears strained to catch their words, wondering why they were speaking in hushed tones.

"If he keeps this up..." Annie's voice wavered, swallowing hard. "...Randy and I have discussed sending him away...to a facility."

Side-eyed, Buffy watched her mother reach out, resting a supportive hand on Annie's knee, a small comfort for her quiet sorrow. "Oh Annie," her mother cooed, "has it really come to that?" Buffy stilled, her heart skipping a beat while a knot of confusion twisted in her gut and something darker pressed on her chest.

Annie let out a heavy sigh, dabbing at her corners of eyes, careful not to smudge anymore make-up. "Randy says one more incident..." she managed to choke out, reaching for her wine glass and taking a long sip before she continued. "...and William is going, or...he is."

Joyce leaned closer, her arms wrapping around her friend in a warm, loving hug. Which only seemed to make Annie sob harder, bordering on hysterical, catching the attention of the men, leaving their small talk and cooking behind.

Buffy's brow furrowed. Facility? What facility? Why would William need to go anywhere? She thought he was just like her...a little mischievous...a little different.

A hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her from her musings, and she spun to see her father.

"Buffy?" His voice was soft with a hint of impatience. "What are you doing? Where's William?" Her gaze drifted away from her father's disapproving look, her cheeks flushed red.

"Uh... Hide and seek..." she mumbled, glancing back towards her mother and Annie with a small frown. "But...I-I couldn't find him."

"Oh, then I probably shouldn't tell you I saw him head into the woods a few minutes ago?" Randy called out from the grill, choosing to focus on cooking rather than dealing with his wife's emotional breakdown.

Unsure of what else to do, having been caught eavesdropping, Buffy said nothing and dashed towards the woods, her small figure disappearing into the towering skeletal trees.

An unsettled silence fell over the backyard like a thick blanket after Buffy's departure. Hank and Randy resumed their conversation and Joyce settled back into her chair beside Annie, her hand absently tracing the rim of her glass as she looked for something reassuring to say.

Across from her, Annie wiped at the smudged mascara with trembling fingers, her wine glass shaking in her other hand, the red liquid sloshing like a restless sea.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she muttered, breaking the silence, though no one seemed to be listening. "I'm really going to miss these afternoons... William more so." She placed her glass down with deliberate care, staring at the glistening ring it had left behind on the table.

For a moment Annie allowed her mind to wander, remembering the children playing together, their unrestrained laughter and boundless happiness. But the memories faded as quickly as they came, replaced by the quiet understanding that her son's recent bout of bad behaviour and outbursts were from the looming spectre of losing his best friend, and not a troubling phase.

He just doesn't want to lose her, she thought to herself.

It wasn't long before they all began exchanging light-hearted chatter, their hushed tones barley louder than the faint sizzle of the grill. The sound of whistling birds had faded, replaced with the unnerving warble of night owls, the sky painted a gorgeous blue that clung to the bright red of sunset.

Then came the sound that shattered everything.

A scream - raw and blood-curdling - cut through the stillness with the jagged edges of pure terror. It rose from the woods, unmistakably Buffy's, a series of desperate cries each more gut-wrenching than the last.

For a second no one moved, as if time itself had twisted, stretched and buckled under the weight of that sound. Joyce was the first to stir, her glass slipping from her fingertips, tumbling towards the ground slowly, exploding into millions of tiny shards as red wine stained the concrete like spilled blood. Randy's head snapped to the trees, his jaw slackened, waiting for something to emerge from the shadows. Hank's hand had frozen mid-reach, knocking his beer bottle, the glass shattering on impact, the sound echoing in his ears as if from somewhere far away. And for a strange timeless second, that's all the world was - the loud cracking of broken glass.

Buffy's cries grew louder and more frantic as they finally jolted into motion. Annie and Joyce lurched forward, their voices breaking as they began calling their children's names. Hank and Randy right behind them, barrelling over chairs and knocking the barbeque askew in their desperate rush. Randy opened his mouth to shout, but the words died in his throat before they reached his lips.

They moved across the lawn, feet pounding against the dew-covered grass. It felt as if no amount of speed was bringing them closer to the horrors unfolding just out of sight, like they were wading through quicksand.

And then she was there, bursting through the shadows and into the fading light, her face pale, eyes wide and unseeing. Her little arms flailed as though she were still running through the maze of woods from something that seemed to cling to her like a nightmare made flesh. Blood clung to her shirt, warm and sticky, dark and accusatory.

They converged on her, all at once, a blur of panicked voices, each one desperate to make sense of the scene unravelling before them. Buffy couldn't answer. She just stood there, quaking like a leaf, her gaze distant and unfocused.

Joyce stumbled to a halt, the air stolen from her lungs she fell to her knees, and embraced her dishevelled daughter. "Buffy! Are you hurt? Whose blood is this?" she asked, her hands moving frantically over Buffy's arms, her shoulders, searching for cuts, for gashes, for bruises - anything. Anything that could explain the blood staining her daughter's shirt. "Oh god, Buffy, what happened? What did this?" Her eyes were wild with a mother's worst fears.

Hank fell to the ground beside them, his hands hovering over her, unsure whether to comfort or protect. "Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?" His gaze darted to the tree line, searching for any sign of the threat, but he saw only trees.

Annie's breath hitched audibly. "Buffy, where's William?" she trembled, her face paling as she took in the sight of all the blood.

Buffy's eyes bulged, her mouth opening and closing as if the words were choking her. She shook her head.

"Where is he?" Annie's voice rose louder, almost a command.

Randy turned and began calling out toward the woods, his voice straining. "WILLIAM! WILLIAM, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Hank rose to his feet, joining Randy, his voice thick with worry. "William! "William, are you out there?"

Buffy whimpered, burying her head in her mother's chest, muffling the sound of her sobs, her whole body shaking. She clutched at her mother's arms, digging her fingers in and refusing to let go. She tried to speak, her lips attempting to form the start of words. "W-W-Will...h-he..."

"Shhh, sweetheart, just breathe. You're safe now," Joyce cooed, gently brushing Buffy's hair from her face.

A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breaths coming in shuddering gasps. She managed to choke out a few broken words, "He... W-William... He... He... Killed..."

Hank and Randy stopped shouting long enough to exchange glances, confused, as Joyce kept her gaze steady trying to coax her daughter into continuing.

"Killed what, Buffy?"

Buffy swallowed hard, her head rising to meet her mother's eyes. Finally, in a whisper, she forced the words out. "Mr. Jingles."

The words hung in the air, as silence engulfed them, the meaning of her words sank in.

"Buffy..." Annie's voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the shock in her eyes as she looked around at the others. When they landed on Randy, a silent question and plea passed between them. Her legs buckled slightly, and Randy was there to catch her before she collapsed, her face blanching as she whispered, "No... No... No," shaking her head, not wanting to believe the words. "He wouldn't."

"WILLIAM!" Randy bellowed, his voice slicing through the thick and heavy silence. "WILLIAM, ANSWER ME!"

But the rustle of leaves was all that answered Randy's calls.

*****

William stumbled through the woods, a light mist rolled along the earth, glowing an angry red from the setting sun. He stared at his bloodied hands, his breaths shallow and his mind a mess of jumbled thoughts. The further he walked, the more the world seemed to grow more distant, as though he were caught in a fog he was unable to escape from. He tried to piece together the events that had led to this moment, but it felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from - except it wasn't.

None of it made any sense. The blood... Mr Jingles... Buffy running away screaming. The whole thing didn't feel real - nothing did. He felt like a stranger to himself.

By the time William emerged out into the yard, he didn't feel like himself anymore. His body felt foreign, like it wasn't really his. The blood on his hands felt strange and sticky.

Lifting his gaze, his eyes finally met theirs, angry and hurt It made his feelings churn in his gut. He heard his father's voice, sharp and commanding. "What did you do?" his father barked, stomping towards him, his face burning with a fire William had never seen before.

The word's cut through the haze in William's mind and for a split second he thought the words were aimed at someone else. His steps faltered, hands dropping by his sides as the realisation dawned on him.

It hit him like a slap, painfully hard. He felt like his world had been up ended, as if the fabric of everything he once knew was beginning to unravel. She told them? Hadn't they always had a pact to keep things between them, to keep their secrets safe from those that would never understand?

His stomach twisted into knots, and his body tensed as his father seized him by the shoulder, shaking him, pulling him back to reality. But he didn't want to be here, and didn't want to face them. Didn't want to hear whatever pathetic words they had to comfort him - or scold him.

He was fighting hard to make sense of what was happening, Why did she tell them? Why would she? How could she? The questions raced through his mind like a runaway freight train. He wanted to yell, to scream, to make them understand, but the words felt brittle in this throat, like sharp, jagged shards of glass. How could she betray me like that?

Randy's grip tightened on his son's shoulder, anchoring him in place. "It's going to be fine, Will." His voice was low and firm, yet distant, like he didn't understand how things had gone so wrong.

"It's not fine!" William shouted. It was all getting to be too much. He struggled to break free from his father's unrelenting grasp. "I didn't do anything!" His heart pounded wildly, chest heaving, and he cast a glance in Buffy's direction. She looked so far away, even though he could see her right there, almost reach out and touch her. She was bathed in an eerie scarlet glow, on an evening that now seemed both endless and fleeting at the same time.

Annie could only watch on as shock seized her, rooting her in place, the edges of her vision blurred. Randy's hand moved to William's arm, trying to calm him, but he was still trying to shake him off, kicking and shoving at his father.

William couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Buffy and her parents begin to slip away into the fading light, as if she hadn't just betrayed her bestest friend in all the world. "Buffy! Don't leave!" he cried, but she didn't look back at him.

She just kept walking, her head bowed and her parents guiding her away. She was leaving him behind, and he felt himself getting swallowed by the empty space between them. The sight made something inside him snap, he let out a frustrated scream, throwing a wild, desperate punch towards his father's face.

"William!" his father growled.

William ignored him, redoubling his efforts to escape, to chase after her. "Please, don't go!" his voice cracked, raw and broken, feeling the weight of their final moments together. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to turn around, to listen to his pleas.

But she didn't.

His eyes never left her until she'd disappeared from view, leaving him feeling like he was standing there alone.

"I forgive you!"

His words were barely louder than a whisper, but they were filled with all the longing and hurt he couldn't contain any longer. And as the last of the leaves fell around him, drifting to the earth like ghosts, his world grew still despite the chaos around him.
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The Monster You Made Me