CHAPTER 201 - WHISPERS

GREENWICH

4:30PM

William held the door for Buffy after using his key to let them into Giles’ flat. He’d barely said a word after they’d left the cemetery and made their way back, but he still had manners.

"Buffy?" Willow called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it’s us," Buffy said, trying to keep the weariness and worry out of her voice. She hung up her coat next to the door on the wooden rack provided. By the time she turned towards William for his, he had already started up the stairs.

She was about to call out to him, when Giles stepped into the hall from the study.

"You’re back," Giles said.

"Yep, just got in," Buffy said, taking another glance up the stairs before turning towards Giles.

"Is everything alright?" Giles asked, walking over to her and motioning towards the retreating footsteps as they made their way to the third floor.

"Sure, why wouldn’t it be?" Buffy asked.

"Well, judging by the look on your face..."

Buffy hesitated, then shook her head. "He’s just tired. It was a long day," she said, not ready to talk about it yet; not even sure there was anything to talk about.

"I see. Well, if you want to..."

"Dinner is going to be in about half an hour. It got finished a bit sooner than I thought it would. I made soup. It seemed like a good day for it," Willow said, coming out into the hallway.

"Great," Buffy said distractedly, but letting Willow’s interruption be her escape to go upstairs, too. "I’ll let William know."

~~~~~~~~~

"What’s up?" Willow asked, as soon as Buffy was out of hearing range.

"I really don’t know," Giles answered.

"Buffy seemed a little…avoidy."

Giles suppressed a smile at Willow’s use of what he termed, Sunnydale-speak. He wouldn’t admit it as such, but he’d missed the way Buffy and her friends had managed to so completely mangle the English language. Now that she was here, he’d been rather enjoying hearing it again.

"I guess we’ll see," he said, and headed back to his study to look over the translation texts he’d brought back with him from the Council.

~~~~~~~~~

After hurrying upstairs as though the very hounds of hell were at his heels, William sagged against the inside of his bedroom door in relief; all the while detesting that he hadn’t even had the reserves to greet the other members of the household, but he hadn’t. Ever since the cemetery, that inner voice of doubt and self-loathing - blessedly silent since Elizabeth had come - had been ceaseless. Though it only told him what he already knew; that he didn’t belong in the company and lives of decent people, especially, hers. He didn’t belong in this world at all.

He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, his hand resting on the icy glass. There were no stars to guide one tonight, only clouds that foretold of further storms.

"What would you have me do?" William asked, as he looked up at the lonely night sky. "How can I change what’s past? How can I atone for these...things... acts I can’t even remember? Things I did when I was him?"

There was no reply from above. There was only that voice - seductive and convincing - once more whispering the resolution.

~~~~~~~~~~~

With grim determination, William logged onto his computer and found the links to the car rental company and the lodge in The Lake District, where he’d made reservations before the holidays. A quick glance at the calendar verified that he was supposed to have picked up the car this afternoon and have arrived there late today. Of course, after Elizabeth had showed up, he hadn’t even given it another thought. Until now.

In her arms once more, his loneliness abated, he’d had almost let himself believe that they could go on and still have a future; a normal life, even. But the past would always be present like a dark cloud over their lives. What sort of life was that to offer her?

William closed his eyes, as he tried to envision Dawn the last time he saw her in front of Edna's restaurant; bestowing on him both slugs and hugs. Besides Elizabeth, she was the person he was closest to since coming back. He'd felt their bond almost immediately. He sighed; knowing it was the breaking of that very bond, which caused her to feel almost as hurt as her sister did when he'd left. It pained him to think how hurt and disappointed she would ultimately be by him once again. Still, he’d rather that, than the hate she would surely feel for him should his inaction cause Elizabeth true harm in the future.

Lawrence’s letter was just as important to him:

William signed the document and sent it back to Lawrence, grateful that Elizabeth would be taken care of no matter what happened to him.

Despite her desire to rush right up to his room to make sure he was okay, Buffy decided the best thing would be to give William some time to himself. Instead, she went into her room and fished a change of clothes out from her still mostly-unpacked luggage. After changing, she washed up, brushed out her tangled, wind-blown hair, and reapplied her makeup. More or less satisfied with the results she saw in the mirror, she headed up to the third floor. Taking a deep breath, she tapped lightly on his door before entering.

William sat by the window, staring out, a notebook and pen lay idle on his lap. Buffy’s eyes were also drawn to the laptop sitting open in the middle of the old dining table that served as his makeshift desk. It hadn't been there before they’d left.

"Hey," she said softly, coming up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. She felt him tense for a moment, before relaxing and leaning into her touch. Encouraged, she did the same with her other hand. His head eventually rolled back and he rotated his neck as she kneaded his taut muscles. Buffy glanced down at the notebook, hoping for some hint as to what he might have been doing, or his state of mind. No such luck; if he'd written anything, it was on the side that was face down.

Buffy finished the massage, and walked over to lean on the windowsill, so that she was now facing William.

"Willow said dinner was done, do you need a few more minutes?"

Gently, William took her hands in his. "Don’t think I’d be very good company tonight, Elizabeth," he said, his words carefully measured, as he looked up into her eyes.

Buffy studied him, then slowly nodded.

"I’ll bring you up something later."

"Alright," he said, then brought her hands up to his lips, and genteelly placed a kiss on each.

Buffy hesitated for a moment of at the door; a vague, uneasy feeling niggling at her consciousness

"William?"

"Yes?"

"You sure you’re okay? I mean considering..."

William nodded.

"Okay. I’ll see you in a while, then," Buffy said, as she left to join Willow and Giles.

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

Arguing with herself for a moment about the wrongness (spying was too harsh a word) of looking at William’s private correspondence, Buffy decided that the need to know outweighed any other consideration she might give the matter. Crossing her fingers that he’d saved the password on his computer, she clicked on the Internet icon, and was immediately connected.

Starting with the earliest, Buffy skimmed through William's emails from over the last months -- especially the past one. Unfortunately, now all she had was more questions than answers; such as, why the hell had he made reservations for a Thrifty Rent-a-Car, and a room at Stonecross Manor Hotel in some place called Kendal, for tomorrow? Reservations he’d made tonight!

Had she discovered them yesterday, she might have just thought that he wanted to take her away somewhere so they could be alone, but she was pretty damn sure that this wasn’t what this was about. Not to mention, it was a reservation for a single. In her gut, she knew that this was related to what had happened today, but Buffy had also found the same reservations he’d made before she’d even come - for today. They were tied in, but how? Was he trying to leave here when she’d first come and she’d interrupted his plans? There was something else at play here, but what?

Following the link to the hotel, she found that Kendal was in an area called The Lake District. It sounded familiar to her, like something William, or maybe even Spike, had mentioned a long time ago, but she couldn’t be sure. She Googled The Lake District and found out that it was at least a five hour drive from London, if she was figuring out the kilometers correctly. What possible interest did it hold for him? What’s more, why did he make plans to go there without her? It was all Buffy could do to not storm over to the bed and shake William awake, and demand he tell her what the hell was going on. But she couldn’t; not after the day he’d had. Well, at least one of them would be getting some sleep; it sure wasn’t going to be her.

She’d had enough. Exasperated and exhausted from the barrage of worry and emotional tumult of the day, Buffy turned off the computer. If there was more to see, she couldn’t stand to see it right now, anyway.

Shrugging off her robe onto the back of the chair, Buffy rose and walked over to the bed. Pulling back the covers, she crawled in and curled up next to William. Tentatively, she put her arm around him, needing more than anything, the reassurance that only touching him could give her. She knew that his hurt, his pain superceded her own, and hated that she felt so needy right now, but she did. And, when he murmured her name in his sleep and took hold of her hand, entwining his fingers in hers and hugging them to his chest, silent tears of frustration and hurt flowed down her cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~

Buffy didn’t realize that she’d fallen asleep until she felt William’s hand reach around her to pull her tight against his body. She was soon aroused as his splayed fingers caressed her bottom. In response, she drowsily traced circles down his chest and stomach, until her fingers barely skimmed underneath the waistband of the jeans he still wore. Moaning, he quickly undid the button of his jeans for her, but before she could touch him, he surprised her by roughly pushing her hand away.

"What is it? What’s wrong?’

William didn’t answer, rolling over onto his back; he lifted up, and pulled down his pants, kicking the covers onto the floor in the process. Without any preamble, he rolled over on top of her and pushed her nightgown up to her neck. Ignoring her attempt to kiss him, his mouth latched onto a nipple, while his other hand readied himself above her opening.

"Oh, God!" Buffy was all managed to squeak out, as he slammed into her, his cock impossibly hard.

Buffy’s breath hitched at the unexpected roughness and intensity he was showing, considering the mood he’d been in earlier. More than she would care to admit; there was something primal about it, reminding her of the type of sex she’d had with Spike after being resurrected. However, she had long ago made her peace with that ugly time. They had overcome that and so much more. Still, she couldn't help but make the comparison. It was like something was missing. Roughness and passion were one thing, but this was as though...

Buffy managed to grab hold of William’s face and forcibly lifted it from her breast. Never slowing down his pace, William tried to shake her off, but she held on, staring into his eyes. He might as well have had them closed for all the good it did her. She’d had an inkling that he wasn’t quite all there, but it wasn’t until he didn’t respond when she told him that she loved him, or when she said his name, that she knew for sure.

William was still asleep!

In some ways it was a relief. Roughness during passion was one thing, but a lack of feeling was entirely something else; she knew the difference. Hell, she'd written the book, and it was something she never wanted to go back to.

Not seeing any point in waking him, and for selfish reasons borne of her own need for comfort vis-à-vis, sex-as-escape, Buffy released her grip on his face and let him continue on.

Despite William being oblivious, her body still responded to him as it always had and it didn’t take long for her to find release. William followed a few moments later. Buffy rubbed his back as he lay there collapsed on top of her, until she was sure he’d fallen back into a deep sleep. That is, until she tried gently to push him off of her. Gripping her tightly, he rolled them both over onto their sides, and pulled her leg up over his hip, so that he was still inside her. She could live with that.

This time when she tried to kiss him he didn’t turn away, murmuring her name in his sleep, before nuzzling his head against her breasts. Buffy closed her eyes. They had a lot to talk about tomorrow, but for now, they could both rest.

That hope was short-lived.

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

Buffy found herself startled awake by William crying out in his sleep and thrashing against her. Alarmed, she held him tighter and tried to calm him with soothing words. She even tried to shake him awake, but he seemed resistant to all her attempts.

What’s more, like some deep, dark eddy pulling her under the surface of her own reality, she found herself being sucked down into William’s nightmare.

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

"No, please, no!" William yelled, as once more the air around him began to shimmer again.

He was suffocating.

William’s hands flew to his throat as he desperately tried to get air to pass into his lungs. His eyes flew open, the colors changing from blue to black to yellow, then back to blue. Abruptly, the gasping stopped as the air stilled.

Taking his hands away from his throat, he shrugged his shoulders and rolled his head. He grinned at the satisfying sound of bones in his back and neck clicking and cracking, like things falling into place. He felt himself strumming with power as familiar as the garments he now wore - from the chipped, black nail polish, to his scuffed Doc Martens, to his trademark, black leather coat stolen off of that slayer he killed in New York. His hands went up to his head, and he smiled as he patted the hardened hair gel holding his white hair in place. Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out his Zippo, and a pack of cigarettes. The lighter clicked open with its familiar, metallic sound. He lit his cigarette, and dragged the acrid smoke deep into his lungs.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, my bad dog is back!" Drusilla said, clapping her hands together like an excited child.

With a glint in his eyes, he stalked over to her. Not quite touching, his hand drifted around her hair and with a suggestive grin, his tongue touched the bottom of his lip, as he leered at her.

"So, how do you feel now? Is this better?"

"One could say, but for one thing, luv."

"What’s that my pretty William?."

"I’m hungry. Starved, actually."

The woman smiled knowingly, and moved aside, allowing him to see behind her.

Against the far wall, with hands shackled above her head, stood his slayer.

"Yes," he said as his mouth quirked into a cruel smile. "That’s definitely more like it."

END CHAPTER 202

CHAPTER 203 – THIS ISN’T YOU

Over the years, Buffy had been on the receiving end of plenty of nightmares. Some could be classified as slayer-prophetic standards issue ones. Others could just be categorized as the strange workings of her brain's synapses doing the wacky. However, waking up (if one can call it that) inside of William's nightmare world as it played out before her in real time was a genuine shock. One minute she'd been in bed with William, the next she found herself chained to a wall here. From what she could make out in the dim light cast by a solitary lantern, here appeared to be an old wooden shed.

Buffy struggled with the chains, but it was useless. So was calling out, apparently. Although she wasn’t gagged, she found she couldn’t use her voice. Fighting off a sense of panic, Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Though rusty from disuse, she recalled Giles’ teachings from years ago. Allowing her mind to slip into a state of meditation; she called upon her ancient slayer birthright to center herself, and to focus her will and her strength.

As though this reality around her had been cloaked, the curtain now lifted. At once she sensed them – vampires. Slowly, Buffy opened her eyes and what --rather who-- she saw made her blood run cold.

"No! No way!" Buffy gasped in disbelief.

At hearing this, Drusilla smiled to herself. Everything was in place, and all the dollies had come to her tea party. It was show time. Moving aside, she allowed them to see each other.

Across the room their eyes met. That’s when Buffy felt true fear for the first time since she’d found herself in this untenable position; for him as much as herself.

Like a panther stalking its prey, he slowly and methodically made his way across the room towards her. Conversely, like a drunken sailor, Drusilla wove and danced in and out of his trajectory; whispering in his ear every time she neared him.

Slayer training took over, and Buffy struggled against her restraints. Above her was a large hook in the wall that the chains attached to her wrist were looped over. If she could only get some leverage, she just might get them to come up over the edge of the hook, freeing her. Scanning the area around her, she saw there was an old crate only a few feet away. She stretched out her leg and tried to grab it with her foot, but it was just out of reach.

Bad move.

With a feral growl, he rushed at her with vampiric speed, kicking the crate across the room. Before the splintered pieces had time to land, his cool hand was around her throat, as he viciously knocked her head back against the wall.

Buffy came to with a start, opening her eyes to the horror that she'd momentarily took her leave of. A few feet away from her stood Drusilla, whispering to William. Like some sort of grotesque step of the danse macabre, they turned to face her in tandem.

"Look my sweet, she's awake. I think she wants to play. Dollies always like to play," Drusilla said, giggling.

You’re not real!" Buffy choked out, her throat burning from the bile that had risen to it.

"Aren't I?"

"You're dead!"

"Am I? Then again, who here isn't? Or in your case, Dearie, will be soon. Very soon."

"It’s a trick; I saw you dust!"

"So I’ve been told."

The sounds of Drusilla's sudden, sharp peals of maniacal laughter rang out in the small shed, making Buffy shudder. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the laughter ceased.

"But don’t you know? You of all people must know..."

"Know what?" Buffy said through gritted teeth.

"We're hard to kill, little girl."

At the sickening, familiar phrase, the hairs on the back of Buffy's neck stood up in alarm. Still, she glared defiantly at her taunter; "Didn’t seem so hard to me."

"Yet, here I am; come back to my sweet William, come back just like my sweet William came back."

An invisible signal seemed to pass between him and Drusilla as he turned to look at her. An eerie quiet fell over them. Then, with a nearly imperceptible nod, he turned his full attention back to Buffy.

In a split second, he was upon her. His left hand fisted in her hair; cruelly he snapped her head back to give him better access to her neck.

She gasped in pain as she felt his fangs tear into her neck. With what remaining strength she had left, Buffy tugged and pulled at her chains. Then it happened; the hook creaked and turned sideways. Still, she couldn’t get enough slack in the chain in order to get it over the edge. The only way to do it was if she got some leverage. Somehow, she managed to grab hold of the next handful of links above her wrist, and with all her might she pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist to boost herself upwards.

With a snarl, he pulled his teeth out of her neck. His yellow eyes looked her up and down, as his tongue snaked out to lick her blood from the corner of his mouth.

His arms came up under her thighs and he rammed his pelvis against her as hard as he could.

Buffy moaned in pain, as his thrusts hit her already tender stomach.

"Like this do you, slayer?" he asked, with a lecherous grin. "Always knew you had a bit of kink in you."

This heartless mockery, this perversion of the intimacy they shared, hurt her more than his biting her did. Still, Buffy swallowed down her nausea as he continued to slam against her, as she looked for the advantage. Finally it came, and she got the leverage she needed to pull the chain holding her left arm off of the hook.

Victory was as short-lived, as his instincts were impeccable.

With preternatural speed, he released his hold on her thighs and grabbed hold of her wrist, slamming it back up against the wall; the chain dangling from it.

"Thought you had me fooled, eh luv? You forget who you’re dealing with," he said, and with a growl, he once more sunk his fangs into her neck.

"That’s it my William, drink deeply of her," Drusilla crooned into his ear. "You'll be back in the dark with me, singing our little songs. You've always liked them, right from the beginning. That’s where I’ll take you; back to the beginning."

Buffy could feel her heartbeat slowing, as the life was being drained from her. With a last ditch effort, she dug her nails into his hand. Howling, he pulled his fangs out of her neck, and shoved his arm against her windpipe. Her fingers released his wrist, as she lost consciousness. Satisfied, he removed his arm from her windpipe, then interlocked his fingers with hers to prevent her from using her nails any further, before sinking his teeth into her throat once again. Barely conscious, Buffy whimpered softly.

Oddly enough, it was bone-crushing pressure being exerted on her fingers that brought her around to any coherent thought at all. With the last of her strength, she tightened her own fingers around his.

"It’s...not...you..."Buffy whispered.

Then, through the fog, Buffy suddenly felt the chill of death retreating. Starting with her hand, warmth radiated down her arm, suffusing her whole being with power and life, itself.

He felt it too.

Slowly, his head lifted from her neck, a dazed expression on his face. His eyes traveled upward to their hands, then back at her.

"Bu..." he stammered, his lip trembling and his eyes wide in shock.

In the background, Drusilla screamed in rage, then faded altogether.

Buffy stared into the eyes of the man she hadn’t seen for almost seven years.

"Spike?"

END CHAPTER 203

Frantically, William tried to disentangle himself from her. With his pants still down around his ankles, he stumbled off the bed backwards, knocking over the bedside table and its contents, as he scrambled away from her as quickly as he could.

"Sp…," Buffy started, then caught herself. Hope had stirred in her breast from the simple fact that in the midst of a nightmare, he had started to call her by her given name. In that moment, she knew he had really seen her -- all of her, if only for a mere two seconds. Pushing that hope down, she rose from the bed and hurriedly followed him across the room to where he stood against the wall, panting heavily.

"William, I’m okay. I’m not hurt."

Trembling, he shook his head rapidly as she approached.

"Look at me. I’m not hurt. It was only a…" Buffy said, as she reached out towards him.

"Don’t touch me! Get away from me!" William bellowed, backing further away from her.

Buffy stopped, taken aback.

"William, please…don’t do this, It wasn’t…"

With an anguished cry, he seized a nearby chair and hurled it across the room. Roughly, he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her. "Wasn’t real? Is that what you were going to say - that it was only a nightmare?" he yelled, his eyes full of pain and fury.

"Don’t lie to me! Don’t you dare! You were there! Oh, God…you were there," he said, releasing her.

"I was," Buffy said softly, her eyes filling with tears.

"You were there," William repeated, as he walked over to the wall and slumped against it.

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

One floor down, Giles was awakened by the sounds of objects falling and breaking above him. Still groggy, he at first attributed the noises as the goings on of his guests – obviously, quite rambunctious ones -- that he neither wanted, nor, God help him, needed to know about. However, the frantic yelling he heard a moment later, convinced him otherwise. Wide-awake now, he reached for his robe and headed for the door. His hand was almost to it when he stopped. Going to his closet, Giles pulled down a small case from the back of the top shelf. For emergencies only, he had never wanted to have the need to use this. He still hoped he wouldn’t. More yelling, and another crash from above, though, left him little other options, than to be prepared for the worst. Opening the case, he took out a cartridge, and loaded it into the chamber. With a sigh, he dropped it into the pocket of his robe.

"Giles, what’s going on?"

"That’s just what I’m about to find out."

"I’m coming with you," Willow said.

He was about to argue, then thought better of it.

"Very well, just be careful. William sounds…"

"Unhinged?" Willow volunteered.

He gave her a terse nod. "Yes, quite."

With Giles in the lead, they started up the stairs.

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

"Now you know; now you must know," William said, as much to himself as to her.

"Know what?" Buffy asked, his words eerily reminiscent of her earlier exchange with Dru.

"What I am, what I’m still capable of…the darkness... the evil still inside me."

"It’s not you!"

"Really?" William said, with a mirthless, bitter laugh. "Felt like me hitting you, biting you, defiling you."

Buffy shook her head, as he walked up to her. Gently he took her head in his hands, his eyes wandering to the lovebird necklace he’d finally returned to her only a couple of days ago. Now it felt like a lifetime ago. His heart felt like it was being torn to pieces from the inside out.

"Please Elizabeth, don’t make this harder. You’ve got to let me go. Surely, you must see this now. Please, luv…let me go."

"No! They’ll be no goddamned going! We’re in this together; we’re…wait! Is that what your car and hotel reservations were about? Going?"

Guiltily, he turned away from her eyes.

"You weren’t just going to get away from me, or Giles, or your problems, were you? You were going to…" Buffy swallowed, unable to say it.

"You don’t understand, luv…"

"William…

"Every night I kill you," William said softly, as he looked into her eyes. "Or at least it was every night until you came a few days ago. Then it stopped -- blessedly, miraculously stopped. I thought they were finally over, that somehow I’d overcome them just by your being here with me. Until today that is, and tonight, of course. But now I know, and now you see, too, don’t you? It will never stop. Every night, I kill you."

Buffy stubbornly shook her head, even as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"William, you’ve got to listen to me. It wasn’t you doing those things. You’re being played, controlled," Buffy said.