~~~
I look in the mirror and see your face
If I believe it now
So it feels inside that just like you are taking over
~~~
Buffy hung up the phone with a strained smile. "Well," she said, turning to face Dawn and William. "It looks like we’re headed to London. Dawn? When is Andrew supposed to get back?"
The younger girl sighed. "Well, he left to go see Star Wars about three hours or so ago, so any time–”
But she was cut short when the door flew open to reveal a teary-eyed Andrew. "Incredible," he whispered before catching sight of the others. "Hey," he said, suddenly sounding like a petulant child. "Who is wearing my shirt? Buffy! Buffy, there’s someone wearing my shirt!"
William stood up slowly, head bent. "Sorry. I-I...." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish. With a sheepish look, he raised his head to look at Andrew.
An audible gasp filled the room as Andrew dropped his plastic light saber to the ground. "Spike? Oh, Spike, is it really you? Oh, you’re like Gandalf the White, resurrected from the pit of the Balrog, more beautiful than ever! Oh… he’s alive, Frodo. He’s alive." With no time to utter a warning, Andrew flung his arms around William’s neck and begun sobbing into his shoulder.
"It’s William now," Buffy said quietly. "He...he doesn’t remember." She took a shaky breath and turned to run to her room. "He doesn’t remember anything."
Andrew pulled back, sniffing pitifully. "But you’re gonna help him, right? Isn’t that what you– we– do? Buffy?"
"We’ll try, Andrew. You and Dawn, start packing. Giles has arranged for a flight at eight o’ clock tomorrow morning. "
Dawn looked at Buffy curiously. "And what about you two?"
With a slight smile, William spoke up. "I’m sure we can handle ourselves." He turned to Buffy. "I have questions."
"Giles has answers." William’s sigh prompted Buffy to continue on. "And I might, too."
"Thanks," he mumbled.
Buffy collapsed into the chair opposite William and laid her head on the table. "I’m sorry, Sp– William." She heaved a heavy sigh. "This is really hard. You’re here. I mean, like, here. Now. At this exact moment in time. You’re so close, I could reach out and touch you." Her hand stretched forward, fingers hovering a hair’s breadth from his face. She hesitated as William’s eyes fluttered shut before snatching her hand back. "You have the same face, but you aren’t him. He would be making smartass remarks, but you... you don’t know." Even as the tears resumed their path down her face, Buffy knew she was being unfair. With a whispered "I’m sorry," she retreated once more to the sanctuary of her room.
The only sound in the abandoned kitchen was William’s shaky breathing as he tried to regain his bearings. He and Buffy had shared something important, that much he understood. William shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it and stood up. For no apparent reason, he was exhausted. Leaden feet slowly carried him to the couch in the next room. Before William’s head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.
*****
Scritch, scritch. There it was again. Spike crept silently to the coal bin. After a momentary pause, he heard a tiny sigh. Grinning with morbid satisfaction, he gently lifted the lid. A pair of frightened blue eyes stared back into his amber ones. "Well, hello there, sweetling."
Crocodile tears poured down the girl’s dusty cheeks. "Please, sir. Please, no. I just want my mummy and daddy. Please."
Long, pale fingers stretched out and fastened around the back of the girl’s sooty nightdress. Spike easily lifted her out of the bin and gently set her upon the ground. He began to dust her off, careful not to let her see anything behind him. "Do you love your mummy and daddy?"
She gaped at him. "Of course I do."
"Will you go wherever they go?"
The child nodded silently, tears still falling freely.
"Well, then," Spike said with a laugh. "Don’t have any worries now, do we, ducks?" The sadistic grin returned in full as he stepped back. The girl began to scream but was stifled almost immediately by a cold hand as Spike knelt behind her. "Shh now. No talking. No screaming. It’s just like a library, or a museum, yeah?"
The little girl sobbed silently as she looked upon the bodies of her parents, artfully posed in a motionless dance. What had once been a coat hook now served as support for their lifeless bodies. Blood was spattered everywhere, staining the white curtains with crimson spots. A fire still crackled merrily, oblivious to the chaos surrounding it. Above the mantle, in a bloody smear, the words "God protect our home" leered back mockingly.
When he knew all had been seen by the tiny hostage, Spike withdrew his hand. "Now, sweets, how did you like my surprise?"
"You’re horrid," the girl whimpered.
"Now, now," snarled the vampire. "Took a page out of old Angelus’ book, I did." Spike sighed and tugged the girl against his chest. "Well, if you don’t like it..." With an almighty roar, Spike sank his fangs into the pale neck before him. Even as her blood was pouring down his throat in torrents, the girl did not scream. Nor did she cry. Her tears were too little, too late.
As the last drop of life drained away, the girl took a shuddering gasp and whispered in her tiny voice, "I forgive you."
It was when Spike heard these words that he threw the now lifeless body away from him with shock and disgust. He stood there, alone, until dawn had nearly risen. He did nothing in those hours but pant deeply and stare with wonder at the macabre scene that had been created by his hands.
*****
Hundreds of years later and hundreds of miles away from the morbid scene, William awoke with a start. Even though his clothes were drenched in sweat, biting cold raced through his throbbing veins.
~~~
I believe in you
I’ll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you
To live
To breathe
You’re taking over me
~~~
TBC...