CHAPTER 211 –
A STEELY RESOLVE
William sat in
the backseat of Willow's car, blanketed in his own personal hell.
Not only had he ignored his gut instinct when he'd been so close
to finding her earlier, but now his getting to Elizabeth was
impeded by the steadily falling snow and slow traffic.
"Can't this
thing go any bleedin' faster?"
"I’m already
over the speed limit. I can’t drive through the cars in front of me,
can I?"
"I don’t know.
You’re the one with the magic. Can’t you just make ‘em disappear, or
part the cars to either side like Moses did with the Red
Sea?"
"Even if I had
any biblical-proportion magicks that I could access right now, I
think I’d better save what I do have for when we get there, don’t
you?"
William
plopped back against the seat, his hand reaching out to once again
touch Elizabeth’s coat, which sat next to him on a pile of blankets
he’d grabbed as they left the flat. He knew Willow was right. She’d
offered to do a locating spell, but with her magicks only just
returning, she couldn’t guarantee that she’d be able to do more than
that. He’d opted to trust his instinct, and for her to save her
magicks for when they got to their destination.
Giles, who was
sitting in the front to help navigate, turned around in his seat. "I
realize that you’re anxious to get to Buffy, if indeed, that is
where she is. However, making Willow feel bad isn’t going to get us
there any quicker. Believe it or not, we are making good time given
the conditions."
William just
glared at him, but held his tongue from retorting, that there
would’ve been no need for this trip at all had it not been for their
carelessness and secrets.
As soon as
they turned north on Highgate Road, he undid his seatbelt and
scooted up, leaning between Willow and Giles as he strained to see
familiar landmarks and roads through the snowfall. Finally, he
spotted St. Alban’s Road.
"It’s coming
right up on your…here, turn here!"
Willow swerved
just in time to make the right-hand turn onto Swain’s
Lane.
"It’s one-way,
go faster!"
"It’s also icy
and curvy," Willow said, but increased her speed enough to appease
him. A few tense moments later, the car slid to an uneven stop in
front of the cemetery.
Giles looked
at gate and the tall brick walls surrounding the cemetery. He
couldn’t help wonder how long it had been since he’d seen Buffy
vault over something that high, or if it were still even possible
for her to do so. To him it seemed unlikely.
William jumped
out and hurried to the gates, pushing and pulling at
them.
"Get ‘em
opened!"
Willow nodded.
Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes. She sent up a quick,
silent prayer to the Goddess Hecate that her powers be restored; at
least enough for the simple spell at hand, then concentrated on
centering her energy.
"Patefacio
porta!"
By the time
Willow heard the creak of metal on metal and opened her eyes,
William was already through the gates and running towards the
path.
Giles was also
heading for them as well. He turned back towards
her.
"I’ll close
the gates after me, so it doesn’t look as though they’ve been
tampered with. If you want to stay here..."
"No. I’m
coming with. I might be needed," Willow said. Ever since the gates
had opened she felt a dark power coming from within, though she
didn’t mention that to Giles.
"What about
the car?"
"Occulto!"
"What was
that?"
"Just a little
concealment spell," Willow said. Seeing Giles worried expression,
she added, "Don't worry, nobody will hit the car either. They'll
simply veer around it without knowing why."
"Very well.
Hurry then."
Giles closed
the gates as soon as they were both on the other side, then he and
Willow started down the path, following William’s
footprints.
~~~~~~~~~~~
William didn’t
pay heed to the slippery ice as he raced along the cemetery paths.
Ever since they’d arrived, he once again had a strong sense that
this was where he would find her. Still, a nagging doubt chilled
him. If he were wrong, they’d have wasted this much more time.
He slowed as
he came upon the familiar markers that hadn't changed for over 100
years, yet today, somehow seemed different, askew. William looked
again. Next to his family’s graves, there seemed to be three
snow-covered statues. One knelt in front of the headstone bearing
his name, while the other two stood in front of the former on the
opposite side of the grave. It was only when the two standing
statues turned their heads towards him that he realized what
he was seeing. His heart froze in his chest.
"And he
appears. My loving son; your knight in tarnished armor," said
the first apparition, looking scornfully at William with empty,
hate-filled eyes.
The second
figure shook her head sadly as she tsk-tsked. "Oh, Buffy. Couldn’t
you have done better than him? I raised you to become a nice
young woman, but instead you slept around like a common whore. Live
or undead, it made no difference to you, did it? You were such a
disappointment to your father and me. It’s no wonder he left; just
like every other man you’ve ever known has left, or will leave
you…or die.
In fact,
you’re to blame for my death. Had you not been out
commiserating over your pathetic love life with that sex-bot; you
might have been home in time to save my life. The doctor lied
to you, Buffy. My death was neither quick, nor painless. It was
agonizing. I called out to you, but you weren’t there...until it was
too late, just like you’ll always be. Too late to save the ones you
love."
William,
frozen in place, was only vaguely aware that Giles and Willow had
come up and were standing somewhere behind him. The spectacle they
just witnessed having stopped them dead in their tracks, as
well.
"Giles,
what…who is that? Oh, no…it can’t be!"
"Joyce…" Giles
whispered.
"Oh, God.
Buffy."
Elizabeth had
been as still as the statue that William thought he was seeing at
first. At this last onslaught, he thought he saw her shoulder’s
twitch slightly, and it spurned him to action. His initial fear and
shock now dwarfed by an all-encompassing rage.
"Get away from
her!" William yelled, as he ran towards her.
The two
specters swayed in unison, but didn’t say anything in
return.
William fell
to his knees beside her on the snowy ground, "Elizabeth?" he spoke
her name gently, as his hands brushed the snow off of her hair and
face. He spoke her name again, lifting her chin to look into her
eyes, searching for any reaction. That there wasn’t any at all
scared him the most of all.
"I’m going to
pick you up now, Sweetheart. I’m taking you out of
here."
He took off
his coat and wrapped it around her as best he could. As he tried to
position his arms around her, suddenly her hands shot out, and
frozen blue fingers grasped the edges of the his headstone, making
lifting her impossible.
"That’s right,
my dear," spoke the specter of Joyce. "This is where you
belong, alongside your dead lover. It won’t hurt anymore once you
join him, and that way he won’t ever leave you."
"Shut up!
You’re not real," William said, standing up to face both of them.
The specter of
Joyce disappeared, leaving only the one of Anne now. "I don’t see
why you’re so upset, William," she said in a soft, lilting voice.
"Isn’t that what you yourself told Elizabeth only just yesterday?
That you belonged here? You knew it was the truth as you spoke it,
didn’t you? That’s why you’re so conflicted, and why you’re in such
turmoil, my son. Your spirit will never be at rest as long as you
continue to walk this earth when you should be lying here in this
grave."
William
wavered.
"You’ve
cheated death how many times now? You’re not really even here now;
you’re only a phantom of the man who lived over one hundred years
ago. This headstone is more real than you are or will ever be
again. You’ll never be whole again, that’s why you’ll
lose."
He looked down
at the woman he loved, the strongest person he’d ever met,
prostrated and immobilized; not only the horror that this thing had
wrought, but by the fact that he had told her much the same. Her
discovering the meaning of the two-year clause had only put a
resounding exclamation point on everything she’d already feared -
that no matter what she did or how hard she fought evil and the
fates-- that it still didn’t matter. She’d given him everything she
had; given the world everything she had, only to find it still
wasn’t enough. How could he blame her for finally giving up? But he
wouldn’t.
William jutted
out his jaw in a show of defiance as he once more turned to face the
specter of his mother. "I was wrong then, and you’re wrong now. It’s
you who will lose once again, not me, certainly not her; not
any of us."
In front of
him, the specter morphed as it threw back its head and a demonic
apparition appeared, growing out of her mouth. Its eyes glowed red
and two great horns appeared on its head.
"I’ll lose?
We’ll see about that! You’ll all lose." The First roared, as
it lunged towards them.
William threw
his body over Elizabeth’s to protect her, but nothing touched them.
He heard
Willow cry out as it swooped towards them as well before fading
altogether.
William let
out a heavy breath; "It’s over now. I’m taking you home, luv," he
whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, just as Giles and Willow ran over.
"Are everyone
alright?" Giles asked, his eyes mostly on Buffy’s still form,
although he stole a glance at the names on the
graves.
William nodded
briefly. He gathered up Buffy in his arms as he stood. This time she
offered no resistance.
"Let’s get the
hell out of here." William said.
~~~~~~~~
They made it
out of the gates and into the car within minutes. Willow turned up
the heat to full blast and peeled out, swerving from one side of
Swain’s Lane to the other on the ice. In the backseat, William was
holding Buffy on his lap, while Giles, turned around in his seat,
was helping to throw blankets over both of them.
Willow, who
had been driving as fast and as best she could, suddenly pulled over
as they neared the intersection of Swain’s Lane and Highgate
Road.
"What is it?
What’s wrong?" Giles asked.
"You have to
drive, Giles," Willow said, her voice trembling. "I can’t. I
can’t."
"It’s going to
be alright, Elizabeth. I’ve got you now," William said, as Giles and
Willow changed seats.
Nobody said
anything for a few minutes, but some of the tension waned.
"I’m sorry
about that," Willow said finally.
Giles shook
his head. "Nothing to apologize for."
"I know.
Still…" She turned around to face William. "Can I do
anything?"
"She’s so
cold," William said softly. As if on cue, Buffy started to
shiver.
Giles nodded.
It hadn’t escaped his attention how blue Buffy’s hands were. "Under
other circumstances, I’d suggest that we take her to the hospital
for treatment for frostbite or hypothermia."
"No! No
hospitals!" William said, his voice breaking.
"I know. I
said under other circumstances. Still, we have to do something once
we get back."
"I might be
able to do a spell."
Nobody said
anything.
"Or
not."
It came to
William then. "Call John."
"Dawn’s
John?"
"Yes. He’ll
know what to do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3:30PM
GREENICH
By the time
they arrived back at the flat, it was already buzzing with activity.
Giles had called the slayers who were close by, giving them a list
of supplies John had recommended they have on hand, if they were to
treat hypothermia and frostbite themselves.
John had
sounded quite alarmed over Buffy’s condition, and hadn’t been happy
to only be able to give them ‘in the field’ advice to treat
her with. However, knowing their reasoning for avoiding a hospital,
and having been down this road with them both a few times already,
he quickly looked up emergency procedures they could
perform.
Walking past
the dozen or so slayers that stood lined up by the door as they came
in; William carried an awake, but a still, non-responsive Buffy to
her bedroom. As he was getting her out of her wet clothes, Willow
was running the hot water in both the tub and sink in order to get
as much hot steam into the air as possible. Giles knocked on the
door just as William had finished getting her dressed. He carried a
large tray that had some warm gel packs and other supplies, along
with a pot of tea.
"You should
probably take her temperature now in order to get a baseline
reading," Giles said, handing him an aural thermometer and
explaining how it was used.
William placed
the thermometer in her ear until it beeped. It didn’t take long. He
looked at it and handed it to Giles. It read 94.1
degrees.
He pulled a
paper out of his pocket that the girls had printed out on
hypothermia. "Thankfully, it’s not the worst it could be, but it’s
still definitely in the danger zone."
William had
already picked up Buffy and was on his way to the bathroom before
Giles even finished. He didn’t need to hear anything more about it;
he needed to do something about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~
William sat
amidst the steam on a pile of towels holding Elizabeth on his lap.
It had been the easiest position for him to keep the warm gel packs
underneath her armpits, and groin, as it had been suggested they do.
It was also the way he could still have a hand free in order to hold
the newly purchased, personal mist inhaler in front of her mouth and
nose which Willow had set up for him. That and the steam were the
most important things John told them to do in order to warm her core
temperature.
"Come on luv,
breathe this in; gonna make you feel better in no time," William
spoke encouragingly, although he might have been speaking to himself
for all the response he received. He wasn’t even sure she was
hearing him at all.
His
consciousness prickled remembering how he himself had been like this
in the aftermath of the attack by Dru. The difference was that as
shell-shocked as he’d been, he could still remember Elizabeth
talking to him during that time. A wave of guilt washed over him as
he recalled choosing not to respond to her gentleness and attempts
to console him...and her pain.
Tears stung
the back of his eyelids. There was an abyss that seemed to lay the
foreseeable future’s landscape bare as far as he could see into it.
It felt fragile and brittle. It seemed as though it might only take
one more thing before he himself would shatter apart into a million
pieces.
It was at this
precipice --this bottomless pit of hopelessness-- that William
pulled himself back from with a steely resolve. He would not
allow himself to go there again; he'd already spent so much time
there since he'd found out about his past. If he let himself
succumb now, there would be no turning back; and he was needed
here...with her. What's more, he realized with sudden
clarity that it wasn't just her that he didn't want to leave;
that was never in doubt.
He
didn't want to leave this world.
