William closed his book and strode across his room. He frowned at his image in the mirror. He could glamour, not as well as Angelus since it wasn’t his talent, but he could change his looks subtly. He wondered if it would help. Maybe she would like him better if he were…different. He touched his hair. He knew it was a problem but he wouldn’t change it. It was too important that he remember who he was. Surely Aphrodite wouldn’t have sent him a soul mate that couldn’t understand that, right? He wished he knew. He’d read everything he could find about soul mates, but there were still too many unanswered questions. A person always had a soul mate, but chance and free will meant that most people spent many lifetimes without their true partner. They could love other people. Often they considered themselves happy, but deep down their souls still longed for their missing halves. Only people who are bonded with their true partner could know real contentment. Only they could ever fully achieve their own potential.
William just wanted someone to love. He’d barely spent a moment with the girl Ripper and Angelus had found, but he knew they were right. She was the one, the one Aphrodite had chosen.
Bracing himself for the rejection he knew would follow, William made his way back to Buffy’s room. He decided that he loved her name: Buffy Summers; it was simply perfect.
He knocked lightly on her door and waited.
Buffy pulled the door open quickly and then froze. “Oh! I…I thought it would be Willow.” She stepped back.
William nodded. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to make you more comfortable.”
She lifted her chin. “I’d like to go home.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t? They only brought me here for you. If you say that you don’t…um…want me, then I could go home.”
“I can’t say that.” He said it quietly but he didn’t look away. Willow had told him to be himself, to be honest. He had to try.
Her eyes widened and she turned away. “Then I guess you can’t do anything for me.”
“Have you eaten? I can have food brought up if you tell me what you’d prefer.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He walked towards her. “Please, love. I promise you that the food and drink are safe. The test is…I’ve asked that…it’s fairer than that.”
She spun around. “What is it, the test?”
“That would be a secret.”
“But you know?” She eyed him curiously. If she’d met him at a coffee shop she’d have felt completely safe with him. Aside from his shockingly bleached hair, he looked rather academic. He wore khaki pants, a dark blue button down shirt and brown leather shoes. She had the impression he’d be at home in a jacket with elbow patches and reading a book with a dusty cover. Something about his voice made her think that he was gentle and honest. She found herself struggling to remember that he was the enemy.
He nodded. “I do. I won’t try to trick you. I would never…”
“Why couldn’t you get a girlfriend on your own? Why does it…” She sighed. “So someone said that I was your soul mate, right?”
“Aphrodite.”
“Right. I can’t even go there right now. But… why couldn’t you just come introduce yourself? Why let them grab me from the club?”
“I didn’t know they planned to do that, I…I can’t go above.”
“But they can?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
William pointed to her hand. “May I?” When she didn’t protest, he lifted her hand and placed her palm against the center of his chest.
She narrowed her eyes slightly and shrugged. “I don’t understand.”
“No heartbeat.”
“You?” She looked at her hand and then back to his face. “You’re—?”
“Dead, pet. I’m dead. You need a heartbeat to go above.”
“So you’re not immortal?” She looked at her hand again. Now that she knew, it seemed so obvious. He didn’t have a heartbeat.
“Half. My mother was human.”
“And if you’re only half-immortal you can die,” she said quietly before nodding. It made sense. She’d told Willow and Tara that immortal was an all or nothing status.
“No one is truly immortal. We are simply very difficult to kill.”
“And someone killed you.” It was the strangest conversation she had ever had. She realized that she was trembling but couldn’t have explained why. He was a stranger, but somehow the knowledge of his death brought her an almost physical pain. She wondered if she should tell him that she was sorry that he was dead. Do you give condolences to someone who has died? He looked fine, better than fine if she was being honest.
“It wasn’t easy, even a half-blood can take quite a lot of damage before…” He trailed off, distracted by the feel of her hand on his chest. William reached up, took her hand and gently rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
Buffy pulled her hand away slowly and walked across the room. She needed to put some distance between them. She wanted to think clearly. “Why? What had you done?” She turned to look at him in time to see his shoulders slump and hurt fill his eyes. She was immediately sorry.
“You truly are very determined to make me the villain of this piece, aren’t you?” He sighed. “I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t know anything.” He sighed and walked to the door. “I’ll give Willow leave to tell you the tale if you wish. I can’t.”
An image of Willow looking at her with a disappointed expression flitted through Buffy’s mind. This time she knew the other woman would be right. He’d been telling her about his own death and she’d assumed that he’d earned it. She stepped towards him quickly. “Wait. Please.”
He froze, his back tensed and his gaze never left the hallway floor.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. If you stay, I’ll…I’d like it if you’d stay.”
William remained painfully still in her doorframe.
She lifted a trembling hand and placed it on his shoulder. “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I won’t ask.”
He covered her hand with his own before speaking. “I’ve never told anyone. I didn’t have to, everyone here has always known and I—I don’t like talking about it.”
A voice in her head told her that she should have let him leave. If he thought she was a bitch, maybe he’d send her home. But the look in his eyes when she’d asked so casually what he’d done to deserve death was tearing a hole in her heart. She couldn’t be responsible for causing anyone that kind of pain. It was incomprehensible. “You don’t need to talk about it. Tell me about something else. There are plenty of choices, a whole Underworld full of things I don’t understand at all.”
He turned slowly, gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand. “Will you come have a seat with me?” He nodded toward a small couch and, gripping her hand tightly, led the way. He turned his body as they sat, so that he could look at her. “You’re beautiful. I haven’t said that, but I should have. I wasn’t expecting it.”
Buffy furrowed her brow. “Why not? They didn’t tell what I looked like?”
“I’ve told you before I was not privy to the plan. I didn’t even know that they’d petitioned Aphrodite on my behalf. I only meant that when I’ve considered who my soul mate might be, I never anticipated someone as beautiful as you.”
Still confused, she frowned. “But why not?”
He shrugged. “I could easily have loved someone who was plain.”
“So, I’m too pretty for you?” She laughed softly. “This is starting to sound like an elaborate pick up line.”
“I assure you, I don’t know any lines for such an occasion. I meant to say that your beauty is a little intimidating.”
She laughed again and shook her head. “You’re kind of strange, you know?”
“I do.” He laughed, unable to hold back the sudden burst of joy he felt when she smiled at him. He gave her hand another squeeze. He had to tell her; she was his soul mate. “My father was living as a human when I was born, either in hiding or simply in love.” He shrugged. “I don’t know which. He never told me that we were anything other than we appeared to be. I never knew his true name or mine, if I was given one. I’d like to believe that in time I would have seen something or he would have told me the truth, but I was still very young when they came.”
She frowned and asked gently, “who? When who came?”
“The ones who killed him… all of us. There were several. They disguised themselves as hideous beasts and attacked. My father was caught by surprise. I don’t remember much. I can hear my mother screaming. I remember my father’s eyes changed and that household items flew in circles around us.” He shook his head. “I’m told it must have taken days, even a group with tremendous power would need days to shatter the soul of an immortal.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“They destroyed him completely. He no longer exists in any realm. They meant the same end for me, but Ripper interrupted them. My father normally spoke with him and he realized there was a problem and came. He was too late to help my father, his brother, and nearly too late to help me. My heart had stopped, but I was still…my soul was intact. He brought me here and charged Willow with looking after me.”
Her eyes glistened. “You grew up here?”
“In a way. Dead things don’t grow, not even here.” He gave her a sad smile. “I was seven years old when I died. I still appeared so a year ago.”
Buffy gasped. “But how?”
“The gods took pity on me—gave me the body I’d have had if I’d survived to adulthood.” He reached up and touched his white hair. “It’s a reminder—like a scar on my soul that shows through.”
“Oh my god, William. That’s…” She brought her hand up to cover her mouth.
He leaned in. “Best to add an s around here.”
“What? Oh. Right.” She nodded distractedly. “When did it happen?”
“You mean the change?”
“No. I mean…when did you die?”
“Eighteen Thirty Four.”
Her mind reeled as she did the math. “You were seven for—”
“A very long time.”
“I don’t think I can even understand what that means.”
“I wasn’t truly a child. At first I was, of course, but over time…”
He was trapped. The thought screamed itself in her mind. He spent nearly two hundred years trapped in the body of a dead seven year old boy. “I—I…”
“Please don’t. It wasn’t as bad as you’re imagining. I had Willow and…I’d very much like it if you could try to see me as I am now.”
“I do, of course I do.”
He raised an eyebrow skeptically.
She sighed. “I can’t hear that story and not feel anything for the little boy. I’d have to be heartless not to think about it.”
“I’ve grown weary of being the freak, love.”
“I don’t think you’re a freak.”
He tilted his head to the side and studied her. “Just strange, then?”
Buffy grinned. “Definitely strange.”
“I suppose that is progress, but I’d very much like to know that you’ll eat.”
She shrugged. “I already have. I couldn’t have passed it, if that was the test; Willow said something about thirty days. I couldn’t survive thirty days without food and I figured if I died I’d lose, so…” She smiled. “I’m keeping up my strength so I can make a great escape.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Warning: This is the second chapter posted today. Make sure you read the other one first. I think this is what a lot of folks have been waiting for. I hope it answers some questions and brings about a few new ones. Let me know what you think. :) Thanks!!!