Chapter 11


Buffy pounded the bag in Giles’ basement with relentless intensity. Her shoulders were starting to ache from the impact.


“How long have you been here?” Giles’ voice came from the doorway.


Without stopping the assault on the bag, Buffy said, “An hour, I think.”


“Ah. I see.” He entered the room and sat on a chair. “Buffy, I think we should talk.”


Finally, Buffy stopped and turned to face him, wincing as she stretched her sore muscles. “Okay, talk.”


“Um… it is about you staying here-”


“We’ll move out soon, I promise.”


“No. No that’s not what I was going to say. I was actually going to ask you to stay here permanently… if that’s fine with you. Faith is welcome to stay too if she has nowhere to go. I think it would be the best given the current situation. It would be easier for you as a new Slayer to gain the necessary knowledge. I have several books that would be-”


“I’m not really a book person, Giles. You’ll be the brain and I’ll be the muscle.” She attempted a smile though it felt more like a grimace. She fidgeted with the bandages around her hands, picking at the edges as she contemplated the question that had been plaguing her all night. “Can I… ask you something?”


“Of course. Anything.”


“Umm… the magic. Does it really exist?”


Giles smiled and pushed the glasses higher up his nose. “Yes, it does. Any particular reason you’re asking?”


“No… well… yes. If one would want to maybe open a portal to a different world, figuratively speaking of course… how would that work?”


Giles frowned and gazed at her seriously. “Portal? That is rather specific, I dare say. There is an infinite number of alternate universes and dimensions. They are always in motion, changing and to pinpoint an exact one-- even if you know which one-- requires a certain level of skills. There aren’t many people wielding that kind of power.”


Buffy’s face fell before she latched onto the last thin thread of hope. “But there are witches that can do that, right? Someone that can help-”


“Yes, but you must understand that to tangle with such people isn’t always wise. Many of them have gone off the deep end or are prone to eventually, and those who have learned to control the power they have don’t use it for personal gain. Why is it that you ask?”


“I don’t care if it isn’t wise. Please, help me! You have to help me. You can call someone. I-I know you can. Please.”


Giles stood up and approached her. Faith had told him that Buffy had lost someone close to her the night he’d met her, but why ever would she need to open a portal? “What is it?”


“They took him… a man… h-he said something about taking William… to Hell. I can’t leave him there. What if he’s waiting for me? You said I was the Slayer. I can do this! I can save him.”


Giles shook his head and stepped closer, squeezing her shoulder. “The Council has learned of the deals your headmistress made with a certain notorious servant from Hell called Hermes. He is believed to be a sort of shepherd if you will… he escorts the soul into the Hell. We had our mystics search the place for residual energies. It seems like there has been a ritual, but it hadn’t been completed. Buffy, no human soul went through the portal he’d opened.”


No soul. That meant he hadn’t taken William with him. William was truly dead.


“But you said the magic was real. You can have someone make him alive again, can’t you? A s-spell.”


Giles sighed and took off his glasses to clean them with the tail of his shirt. “Resurrection spells never go right. It is against the natural order of things. We must not disturb the balance that way. There would be tremendous consequences. There is no guarantee he’d come back normal. He might be damaged forever. You really wish to do such a thing to William? To be so selfish and tear him out of rest?”


Buffy’s eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall, as she whispered, “No.”


“I cannot imagine what you’re going through, but the only thing I can tell you is that it takes time. Losing someone we love is never easy. It is painful and hard. But if you wish to talk to anyone… I’m here for you, Buffy.”


Buffy barely felt it as he awkwardly patted her back before he left her alone. Her knees buckled under the weight of sudden realization, and she collapsed to the floor.


William was gone.


*********


He panicked, scratching at the lid above him and ignoring the pain of the splinters embedding underneath his nails. Any thoughts of keeping his breathing calm and even to preserve the oxygen flew out of his head. It was then that he realized something.


Something horrifying.


His heart wasn’t beating.


William froze. Silence unlike anything he’d ever experienced settled upon him like a shroud, suffocating and thick. There was no steady heartbeat resonating within his veins to break it. He felt so empty. Cold, like the earth he’d been buried in. A shuddering breath passed his lips, an echo of the life ripped away from him.


There were walls pressing in on him. He snapped out of the shock from sheer self preservation and pounded his fists against the coffin’s lid, blood trickling down the back of his hands. His vision started to blacken around the edges as terror threatened to engulf his rational thought. Squeezing his eyes shut, William continued to beat against the solid wood, relief suffusing him as he felt it start to give way above his unrelenting fists.


A torrent of soil poured in, momentarily blinding him. Clawing his way out of the grave, William finally felt the chilly sweep of a breeze caress his face. He drew in an unnecessary breath, his whole body shaking with something he couldn’t name as he collapsed on the grass.


Where was he? How did he…


'Buffy!'


He had to go back. Had to help her. Make sure she was all right. Except, it was too late, wasn’t it? He’d seen those demons drag her away, right before his eyes closed as the blackness swallowed him whole. He should have been dead too. He’d felt the pull of eternal rest. Was this some kind of punishment?


“There he is, my Black Knight,” said a female voice.


William struggled to his feet, woozy and ravenous.


“Who are you?” he stared at her.


“I’m your Mummy. Me and Darla. We’re going to be a happy family.”


The dark woman twirled and laughed. Before he could blink, she was standing in front of him, her fingers trailing down his cheeks. William flinched and stepped back, trying to escape the nausea from her touch. It wasn’t a caress of affection. It was proprietary. Her eyes flashed golden for a second and her growl reverberated deep inside his chest, tugging him forward. He was nothing but a puppet unable to control his own instincts.


“No need to fret. Come here, my Prince.”


Unable to do anything else, he stepped closer in spite of his wishes. Trying to suppress the hollowness in his stomach making him want to double over with the pain of his hunger, he closed his eyes as she ran her hands through his hair.


For a moment he tried to imagine it was Buffy. Her fingers playing with his curls like she always had. Her green eyes luminous as she gazed at him with tenderness.


Pain lanced through his cheek and he could feel droplets of blood trickling down to stain his skin. His eyes shot open to meet the woman’s distorted features and yellow eyes full of petulant anger.


“Stop thinking of her! She’s dead. No sunshine for my boy. She’s surrounded by darkness, I can’t see her.”


William stared, too shocked to do anything else. “W-what are you? And how did you-”


She giggled suddenly, her mood obviously volatile. “We’re vampires. Born to slash and bash and paint the little humans with such pretty pretty colours.”


“W-what? You’re crazy!”


Another woman materialized from the shadows to grace him with a sly grin. “Our Drusilla is mad as a Hatter but she’s got a point.”


William watched her lick the blood lingering on her bottom lip. Instead of disgust and fear, something in him roared at the sight, his every cell pulsing with the sudden need to consume.


Rip apart.


Feed.


“I’m Darla. And this,” she pointed to the brunette, “is Drusilla.”


“Did you bring him the pretty little girl?”


“Yes.” Darla reached into the shadows and pulled out the unconscious form of a young girl. “I got a bit hungry on the way here though.”


William’s eyes zeroed in on the twin punctures on the girl’s slender neck, the blood smeared around the wound heightening all his senses to a painful sharpness. The girl’s slow pulse was thundering in his ears. Licking his lips as he slowly stalked towards the fallen prey, his whole being screamed at him to take her life.


He dropped to his knees at the girl’s side, his stomach growling as he took her into his arms and nuzzled her neck. A growl clawed out of his throat as he inhaled the irresistible aroma of blood. Sweet. The embodiment of life. Then William raised his head and for the first time registered the girl’s appearance. Her hair was the same as Buffy’s had been. Golden and silky to the touch. The girl’s frame was so petite and vulnerable in his strong hold. Just like hers.


The rush of emotion and memories threatened to choke him, and he could feel the prickle of tears threatening to fall.


“What are you waiting for? Just feed already,” Darla said impatiently.


“Can’t.” William squeezed his eyes shut. What would Buffy think if she could see him now? He was nothing but a monster.


Darla threw her hands up in the air and glared at Drusilla. “You really know how to pick them, don’t you? And to think I helped you sire him.”


Drusilla knelt at his side. “She’s not her.”


William glanced at her in surprise and frowned, still feeling the prickle of his fangs cutting into his bottom lip. He was so very hungry.


The girl chose the moment to stir in his arms and her eyes flickered open. They were the wrong colour. Her brown gaze was filled with fear as she struggled weakly to break his hold.


“Look at her, pet. She’s a lamb for you to eat. Fear makes the blood sing and taste like cinnamon,” Drusilla whispered. “Take her.”


Anger flared up in him, consuming him. It felt good to be absorbed in rage. If he could hold on to the anger, he wouldn’t feel the excruciating hollowness of sorrow Buffy’s death left him with. How dare this girl have hair like Buffy? How dare she live when his love’s light had been snuffed? She really was but a lamb. Food. And she’d pay for not being her.


William gripped the girl harder and sank his teeth into her neck as she let out a desperate scream. The blood flowed freely into his mouth, filling his body with life and strength unlike anything he’d ever felt. It was pure ambrosia.


It didn’t fill the emptiness in his heart. The girl’s heart fell silent and he tossed her corpse aside.


He really was a monster and there was no turning back. He’d truly lost Buffy now. No one to want to be a better man for. He hadn’t saved her and now he had to pay. There would be no Heaven for someone like him. They had been torn apart forever.


Putting on a mask of determination, William swore that every being in the world would suffer along with him.


There was nothing else to live for.


TBC