Title:
Author: Inca
Feedback: Makes the music start - slasherphiles@y...
Rating NC17
AU Liam/William
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I
just like to play with them
Spoilers: AU
Summary: Risen from the ashes, as an
Angel
Authors notes:
Thankyou everyone who fedback! You know
who you are, my longstanding
fans and some new people, tell me if you
love or hate it.
Again, apologies for the made up things,
i tried to just exacerbate
what we see of Angel's character in the
show, you know, eager to
please, not wanting to upset any of his
friends and turn those
traits into a disorder.
WARNING – In the `
who is mentally unbalanced. If this idea
offends you in any way,
please do not continue reading. I have
already recieved some emails
declaring im sick for what im hinting at.
**In the series, it will
be more than a hint. Do not read it if it
offends you. Also? Dru was
crazy and we all loved her storylines.
~~~~
Three weeks after the Mikael incident and
Liam was steadily
revealing his mind more and more each
day. Like a flower, Will
watched him turn and open up to him as if
he were the sun. He was
eager to please and loved validation,
loved it when anybody paid him
a compliment.
Twice since then had Mikael tried to use
exactly those traits in
Liam to lead him off somewhere like a willing
lamb. Will had found
them once, Liam already dropping to his
knees as Mikael shucked out
of his jumpsuit out the back of the
outdoor toilets and Barry, a
guard, had found him a different time
hopped up on Mikael's meds,
with bruises around his mouth and on his
wrists.
Will hated Mikael – he was too smart and
much too quick to exploit
others. The six foot five man had mocha
coloured skin stretched over
huge muscles and his eyes were as black
and hard and glittering as a
spiders. He was glad he wasn't looking
after him. Trouble was, his
strength and power was what was
attracting Liam to him. Moth to the
flame. The more Will got to know Liam the
more he was leaning
towards a diagnosis which included Liam's
need to be led and taken
care of by someone else.
They were sitting in the art room again;
Liam seemed to be more
forthcoming when he was surrounded by art
and bright colours. Their
sessions became more of chats; Liam
didn't like being asked direct
questions, Will suspected it was because
he thought he would give
the wrong answer.
Will loved the sessions, it didn't seem
like work really, when the
man was lucid, Liam was funny and
charming, his quirks for candy and
documentaries about animals were
captivating. Every now and then,
even on good days, a sound or a word
would sidetrack Liam and he'd
begin with the incoherency. Words, random
or repeated. Sometimes it
seemed as though Liam was only saying
half a sentence out loud, he'd
trail off, or just finish the last few
words of a question, the
other part just forgotten to be voiced.
Will was sure it was plenty
loud in his head. Sometimes he would
start a side conversation with
the clouds out the window. Not the dark
clouds, but the white ones.
Will really didn't mind, he even found
himself smiling at the
puerile captivated look on Liam's face,
waiting patiently until his
attention returned, and then continuing
where they left off..
He liked to watch him draw, which he did
often, his tongue would
poke out the side of his mouth and he
would become engrossed almost
to the point he forgot Will was in the
room. It was very calming to
watch him sweep his hand over in what
looked like random lines
across the paper until suddenly he'd
created something exciting and
beautiful.
"So, read any new books lately? I
just finished another Deaver. Good
writer." He said, sticking a pencil
behind his ear. He was playing
with inking today, darkening a drawing of
Allen Doyle sitting
against a wall.
"I like Deaver, liked the one about
the Asian immigrants on the
ship."
"Stone Monkey."
"That's it."
He realised he should probably be talking
to him about his thoughts
or at least trying to make some headway
into the incident that had
changed him so drastically, but instead:
"I liked the movie of the
Bone Collector. One of the few book-to-movies
I liked actually."
"Yeah I agree, I actually saw the
movie first though, so I'm
tainted, but I thought it was a good one.
What other movie did I
like…" he frowned as he was
thinking, looking up at the crazily
painted walls. "uh…I cant remember,
I'll tell you next time."
Will watched him work. "You know
what I really hate? That
movie. I mean
thing about
Liam turned to him, allies in outrage.
"I know,
danced! The cartoons were good but. I
hated the Scooby-Doo movie as
well."
"I'm with ya, what a
disappointment."
He went back to inking. Will watched his
hands for a while, as they
started to turn black on the sides from
resting over the not-yet-dry
ink. Allen Doyle's face darkened and
shadowed becoming textured, an
almost photograph on the page. Liam
didn't mind him watching,
obviously. Will thought it was probably
because after five years
here he'd gotten used to people watching
him constantly. They even
watched them when they shaved here.
"That's really good, Angel." He
said quietly.
Liam smiled but didn't take his eyes off
the work. Will liked him
best when he could talk to him, a fews
times will had seen him, Liam
just sat scared and unyielding, almost mute.
Sometimes he reverted
into an almost child like persona,
demanding chocolate in return for
answers, wanting to watch television.
Playful and happy, but he
disturbingly mixed in sexual aspects as
well. The word `Daddy'
rolled out of his mouth too often when
referring to Will, and with
way too much want.
Will had learnt most of Liam's
idiosyncrasies over the month and a
bit he had known him. He tried to make an
effort to spend time with
him at least once every two days. He
opened up about sports, didn't
like any water sports though. Asking him
about his family was a good
way to make him sit in the corner and
bang his head against the wall
until he broke the skin. He slept under
his bed, and couldn't sleep
without medication. He had nightmares. He
loved reading. Was
introverted in large groups, in fact
group therapy made him
backslide. Only had one friend, which was
Allen and seemed to care
for him a lot. Didn't like to be spoken
harshly to, and didn't like
to upset anyone. Didn't like to fight
back, whether he thought it
was because he'd lose or because he
thought he deserved it – Will
wasn't sure. Had extremely low
self-esteem. Loved to flirt, not with
words but with stolen glances and wicked
smiles, flicking knowing
looks when William said anything that could
be misconstrued as
innuendo. Liam was a very sexual man.
William valiantly ignored it.
The more and more Will saw him, the less
he could see Liam
committing the crime. How could this man
he knew, do that to his
wife and children? And the more he thought
about it, the more he
realised he didn't know that Liam at all.
Maybe he was reborn.
Surely people can be rehabilitated,
that's what he was there for,
wasn't it? It didn't matter if he had
done it … did it? Will found
himself making excuses for liking a
convicted murderer.
Not excuses. Explanations, he told
himself, just explanations for
liking him. For enjoying his company.
"Angel?" He asked, knowing a
way to secure his standing in Liam's
head.
The man raised his eyebrows.
"Would you do one of these inking
things for me? So I can put it in
my office?" Plus he really did like
Liam's work.
Liam looked very proud, but was trying to
hide it. "Sure. What do
you want it of?"
"Anything, doesn't have to be soon.
The next time you see something
worth drawing, draw it for me,
yeah?"
Liam nodded happily. "Sure. Gives me
something to do."
*
Later that night at about eight-thirty a
soft knock on Will's office
door stopped his typing of the session
he'd had with Arthur Monnar,
one of his patients.
"Who is it?" he asked, fingers
poised over the keys.
"Angel."
Patients weren't meant to come up
uninvited but the reception must
have recognised him. He opened the door
to see Liam, his longish
hair messy over one side of his face. He
looked up through his
lashes coquettishly. He flicked his hair
back and Will saw Barry
behind him, and then looked down to see
Liam holding folded sheets
of paper.
"'S'right Barry." He said to
the guard.
Liam looked very pleased and followed him
inside the room, smiling
when Will shut the door behind him.
"So, Angel, what's happening?"
"I drew like you asked."
Will beamed. "You didn't have to do
it right away, Pet."
The endearment slid off his tongue, and
he couldn't catch it before
it danced out into the room. Why the fuck
had he said that? Liam was
smiling wider now. He handed the papers
over shyly.
"I did a few in case you didn't like
some." He said softly, flicking
his gaze up to meet Will's demurely.
In actuality he'd done five, and put
massive effort into every one.
He must have been drawing since Will left
him. One was the inside of
the prison chapel, another was a nest of
birds in one of the trees –
beaks open and squawking, another was a
small bird on what looked
like Liam's windowsill his head turned to
the side to get a better
view, looking out from the paper. The
next was the view from Liam's
window, the mountains around, but no spot
of a prison fence
anywhere – the picture free and rolling.
The last was William. William leaning
forward on the art room desk
smiling out from the paper, his hair
messed and his glasses resting
beside his elbow. It was from today, the
red button shirt and jeans
he wore to see Liam today were detailed
on the paper.
He looked up to see Liam looking
horrified. "You hate them, don't
you?" He whispered. He looked like
he was about to throw himself out
the window.
"No, no I love them, they're so
good, its just … they're so
lifelike." He said reassuringly.
The man's face relaxed into a smile.
"You really have a photographic
memory don't you?"
He laughed and nodded.
"I love the bird the best, I'm gonna
put it up right there" he
pointed to a bare space on the wall. He
should put his credentials
up, but screw it, he thought, this was
much better. He stopped.
"You didn't sign them, though."
Liam giggled. "Did you want me
to?" he asked silkily.
"Yes, I did."
He cleared some space on the table and
spread the pictures out. He
plucked a pen from the mess and gave it
to Liam, who bent down and
slowly signed a curled `Angel' onto the
first. Will smiled at the
name he used and watched as he signed
each one with care. Will
stepped close and bent to look at them in
turn.
"Perfect." He exclaimed
happily.
He stood back up and turned to Liam who
caught him in a kiss, hand
warm around his hip bone, bringing his
soft lips down on top of
Will's. He stilled in shock for a moment,
feeling the lips caress
his own, wet and willing.
What…? Liam … kiss. Wrong. Stop it.
Will reached up to Liam's face to pull
his head away indignantly but
his fingers had chosen that instant to
become rebellious and twirled
into his hair instead. He opened his
mouth and heard a moan of
happiness as he pushed his tongue into
the artist's mouth, swirling
it around.
Liam tasted like tea and mint, his tongue
hot and slippery and
skilful as it flicked around assuredly.
With their mouths locked, he pushed Liam
back until he sat on the
desk and then pulled the man's head
forward until their teeth
scraped together with a chatter. William
felt warm hands around his
ribs, the fingers heating his skin
through the fabric, squeezing
gently, pulling him close against his
body as William ravaged the
mouth under him. He felt the familiar
awakenings in his belly and
groin, and hummed into Liam. Liam's hand
was rubbing his knee, then
his thigh, up to his hip, softly stroking
its way to Will's zipper,
as his lean hard frame wriggled and
rolled happily under his mouth.
His hand dropped from the soft strands of
Liam's hair to his
shoulder and neck and he felt the
scratchy fabric of the prison
uniform. His mind suddenly caught up with
the sudden state he was in
and screamed like a wounded animal.
What the fuck are you doing?!
Will pulled back with a snuff of air
through his nose and looked
down at the lustful squirming thing
beneath him. Liam had an obvious
semi erection and was trying to pull Will
back into the kiss,
crooning softly about warmth and stars.
Will held his fingers up to his mouth.
His lips seared his skin and
he could only speak in a rasp. "No
Liam."
Liam ignored the name. "Come back,
please, the stars are so bright,
so loud… I loved it… I want to play,
please..." Liam's hands were
pulling at Will's arms as he desperately
tried to extricate himself.
"No!" he whispered harshly
right into Liam's face, trying not to
yell, keenly aware of the man just
outside the door. Liam dropped
his arms like he'd been burnt. Will got
free and sought safety on
the other side of the room, before
turning back to the man. Liam
slumped on the desk, staring at the
carpet, his bottom lip quivering
like he was going to cry. Will's mind was
sparking as he panted.
What the fuck had he done?
His mind was screaming.
He'd just kissed an insane man. He'd
sexually assaulted him.
What the fuck had he done?
Liam was still sitting on the desk,
staring down, as a tear tracked
down his cheek and swam to the edge of
his mouth. William felt
hideous. He got himself together and
walked back over. He wasn't
scared, not of Liam. Of what he'd done,
yes, and what could happen
to him, definitely. But not of the man.
"Come back?" Liam whispered
miserably, his voice cracking.
He felt sick inside. Liam didn't know
what he was doing, he was
incapable of seeing what would happen,
could live nowhere but the
moment, was willing to be led, for
attention. He was a child. He
didn't know any better. Will did though.
He was the one with the
power here. He'd taken advantage of
someone sick and vulnerable,
someone he was meant to be looking after.
"I apologise Angel." He tried
for firm but his voice came out in a
crack.
Liam started rocking back and forth
slightly. He slid off the desk
and walked to the wall and stood there,
back to Will, little
whispers flitting out as he rolled back
and forth on his
feet. "Dark." He caught one of
the words.
He breathed in and walked to him,
ignoring the way he tried to shy
away into the corner.
"That's not allowed to happen."
"Why?" Liam croaked into the
corner.
"You're not well Liam. It's not
right of me to do that."
He banged his head viciously against the
wall.
"Angel!" Will said sharply,
eyes flaring.
At the tone Liam battered his head
against the wall with a sob. He
drove his forehead into the plaster over
and over, crying out at the
pain, bracing himself with his hands flat
against the wall. Will
resorted to pulling Liam away with his
hands around the man's waist,
refusing to acknowledge the flat hard
belly or the smell of the hair
in his nostrils.
Liam was crying and trying weakly to get
out of the hold.
"Shhh, Liam, be quiet, for me."
Barry called from outside. "All
right in there Doc? I thought I
heard a noise."
"No we're fine." He called
back, hating the lie and himself while he
tried rubbing his hands over Liam's arms
to calm him. It worked.
He hugged him, wrapping his hands around
Liam's chest, the hard wide
shoulders and spine to his front. He
could still hear Liam
sniffling, and whispered in his ear.
"It's all right, I didn't mean
to be mad. You're good, and I'm the one
who's wrong."
Everything he'd done in the last five
minutes had gone completely
against his training. He'd broken every rule.
He realised he had his
forehead against the back of Liam's head
and pulled away, ignoring
the whimper at the loss of contact. He
turned him around and saw his
eyes red and puffed from crying, his lips
and cheeks wet from the
tears. A huge angry red patch of skin
above Liam's straight dark
eyebrows was going to turn into a big
black bruise by tomorrow
morning.
Guilt gnawed at Will's stomach and made
his head spin. He had no
idea how to fix it. There was nothing in
the textbooks about how to
calm a patient after you had… Liam made
eye contact with him and
then looked away hiccupping sobs from his
chest. Will leant forward
on autopilot and wrapped his arms around
him, feeling Liam tuck his
face into his neck, soothing the
body-shuddering sobs that were
coming from him.
God, Will, way to send a mixed message.
"Don't hate me." Liam
whimpered.
"I don't hate you Pet." The
affectionate term didn't even register
with Will that time. "I just got …
It cant happen again, you know
that, right?"
Liam nodded into his neck.
"Stay here."
"Where are you…?"
Will got himself out of the grip and
opened the door slightly. Barry
was humming tunelessly.
"Listen, Barry, We're having a bit
of a session. You can go, I'll
take Liam to his room after we're
done."
"Okay, you sure?"
"He's no trouble really."
He watched as Barry left and turned
resignedly back into the room.
Liam was standing in the middle, red eyed
and breathing deeply
trying to hold off more sobs, his blue
uniform out of place with the
grand furniture Will had. His artists
fingers, long and exquisite,
were trembling. Liam lifted a hand to his
head, looking confused at
the pain, forgetting what he'd done to
cause it.
"I'm sorry." Will said. Again.
Some more.
Liam stared down at Will's arms until
they opened wide enough for
him to step into them. He tucked his face
back into Will's neck and
slowly stopped hiccupping as he calmed
down.
After a while he got Liam to walk down
the stairs to the prison
below and escorted him to his room. Liam
looked dead, his face was
pale and his eyes glassy like a stuffed
animal's. He moved like he
was coming down of crack. Ignoring the
looks from the guard, and
feeling like some evil sex fiend as he
did, he got the guard to open
the door and gently led Liam in. He sat
him down on the bed and,
making sure the guard wasn't watching,
swiped the strands of sweaty
hair back from his face, trying to hook
the strands behind his ears.
"Are you coming back?" Liam
whispered, face still expressionless.
"Yes." He said firmly.
"I'll be back tomorrow."
Liam crawled into the protected darkness
under the bed and then
reached one arm up to grab the pillow
before pulling that under as
well and vanishing.
William scoured the room for things that
were sharp. Regretfully he
realised he'd have to take Liam's pens
and pencils from him.
He'd bring them back early tomorrow so he
knew he wasn't being
punished for something. He sighed. He
really needed a cigarette.
**~~**
He was wandering through the prison; all
the doors were open. And
through every door- empty rooms. There
was no one there. He ran to
the front gate, to try to get out, but
that was still locked. It was
raining; he could feel it on his face,
soaking his uniform, the rain
was sticky and copper smelling. His eye
caught something on the road
yards away. He squinted …they looked like
people.
Angel knew better.
They saw him and started approaching at
an alarming speed. Angel ran
back inside, trying to lock doors behind
him in frantic shaking
motions. It didn't really matter; they
could get through doors. He
had invited them in.
He ran to Will's office and saw
everything the same as it had been
when they'd kissed earlier. He'd felt
very safe at that moment.
Where was everyone? He was alone, alone,
alone al…
"Angel?"
Will came through the adjoining door
smelling like cigarettes and
sharp alcohol.
"What's wrong, why aren't you in
bed?"
He ran to him and felt the warm strong
arms of safety wrap him up.
They couldn't get him now. They banged on
the door and Angel
clutched onto Will, tucking his face down
into the smooth skin of
Will's neck.
"Shhh. I'll protect you, don't
worry. Sit down." He said, sky blue
eyes unconcerned.
Angel nodded and sat, the chair padded
and comfy. Silence screamed
into his ears and he twisted back looking
for comfort. The room was
empty. Will had left. Tears poured from
Liam's wide frightened eyes.
They banged on the door again. The door
started to splinter.
**~~**
He was at Liam's room at
sitting on his bed in sweats and a
wifebeater awaiting his meds. His
bitten nails were scratching at his
sleeping pants, his pretty face
in an anxious twist.
He looked away when Will came into the
room, and Will tried not to
feel hurt. "Here are your pens and
pencils back."
He nodded refusing to make eye contact.
He grabbed a brush and ran
it through his hair, making it shiny in
the morning sunlight. Will
busied himself putting everything he had
taken, back where he found
it. After a while he gained some courage
and turned to sit next to
the man. Time to talk about it. He
steeled himself. He'd practised
the speech all the way here. This can
never happen again.
"Angel. Again, I apologise."
"Why?" He looked hurt and very
worried.
"Because it shouldn't have
happened."
Liam's eyes flicked to his before looking
back out the
window. "That's where the bird
was." He said pointing at the
windowsill.
"Sorry?"
"The bird I drew. It was
there." He pointed again.
"Ahh. That was my favourite
drawing." Will said, pushing his glasses
up his nose with his knuckle, earning
mixed feelings about being
given a respite from the conversation.
"I like the one…" he stopped.
"Where are my pens?"
"I brought them back just now."
"Okay."
"Now Angel, listen. What happened
between us, it can never happen
again, alright?"
"You left me."
"I did. I'm sorry." Liam seemed
pleased with this response.
"Where are my pens?" Liam asked
in exactly the same tone of voice as
before, like he'd forgotten he'd just
asked.
"I told you already, I brought them
back," He said resiliently,
indicating the desk.
"Oh. Will you kiss me?"
"No Angel. That's what I'm here
about."
"Why not?" he asked, fixing
Will with sad eyes and an exaggerated
pout.
Will smiled. Liam fluttered his
eyelashes. It was true. He found him
attractive. And now Liam knew it too.
"Didn't you like it?"
"That's not the point."
"Isn't it exactly the point?"
he asked dreamily, wetting his lips
with a swipe of pink tongue.
He makes sense.
No he doesn't, he is insane. He thinks
he's a vampire. Focus on that.
"No. You can't just do things cause
you like to." Hypocrite, he
yelled at himself. William was known for
his do what you feel
attitude. But it had never hurt anyone
before.
"You like to kiss me." Liam
said in an almost sing-song voice,
picking up on the accidental confession.
Fuck.
He was suddenly aware that their legs
were touching. Liam's
wifebeater was melded to his torso, tight
against his muscled body.
Will was already more than aware of how
attractive he found Liam,
but in the morning sunlight he looked
even prettier. He had a little
raised freckle-mole near his eye that was
causing a slight shadow.
"I wont tell." He whispered
leaning slightly closer, making their
arms touch too, his big brown eyes
flicking up sedately. "I'll be
good."
He's seducing you, be solid, don't let
him, his voice was screaming.
But his body was already leaning into
Liam's, his hands were
reaching up to push the just brushed silk
back and his lips were
connecting with the others, the bristles
of his stubble scratching
Will's mouth.
Home.
His glasses bumped against Liam's nose
and the man tenderly plucked
them off, setting them calmly on the bed
as he pecked kisses onto
Will's mouth.
He tried to make his body get up but it
wouldn't, tried to make the
leaving override the softness of Liam's
lips but he couldn't. He
told his hand not to spread out along
Liam's thigh but it did
anyway. His body ignored him completely,
rebellious in the softness
of Liam's affections. Liam rested his
hands on Will's hips demurely
and he felt like a teenager making out
with someone in his room. The
sunlight was pouring through the small
window, warming their skin as
they tickled and touched each other.
Liam's mouth opened and Will's
tongue flicked into the opening
ravenously, tasting toothpaste in
the wet. All he could hear was the slight
high noise Liam was making
in his excitement; he could feel Liam's
fingers flutter softly along
the inside seam of his pants and his cock
stiffened. Will grabbed
Liam's hair and started kissing him with
renewed fervour as Liam's
sharp nails scratched playfully along the
skin just over the top of
his pants, then up under his shirt to
scrape and pinch his nipple.
Will let out a yelp, which Liam devoured
and licked away, swallowing
it all, running his minty tongue over
Will's teeth when it finished.
Will fell back when he heard the nurse
administering the meds to a
patient a few doors down. Liam was
panting, his light pants tented
and wet from his excitement. His eyes
were wide and sparking with
electricity - his whole body a live wire,
thrumming without moving,
trying to magnetically pull Will back
towards him.
Will pushed him under the blankets and
yanked his own leg up to
cover his erection just as the nurse came
into the room. He said
hello to Will and then gave Liam the tiny
cup, oblivious to Will
shakily putting his glasses back on.
Liam's lips were kiss swollen.
Will felt sick. He didn't hear the nurse
leave, only his mind
screaming profanities at him.
He felt kisses on the side of his face as
he sat on the thin bed
numbly, and felt Liam's arms wrap around
his shoulders stroking
tenderly. He breathed in slowly through
his nose as Liam started
lapping at his earlobe, murmuring little
singsong nothings into his
ear. Will felt himself swell even more
and turned his head to kiss
Liam back. He blocked out the noise of
his accusing spittingly
hateful mind. Not evil, not sick. He
needed to taste and discover
every part of Liam's mouth. At that
moment, it seemed very real that
he'd die without it. He gave up. Angel was
voodoo.
"You won't leave?"
"No."
He placed a small bite on the smirking,
wicked lips.
**~~**
Liam was happy. He sat on his bed in the
sunlight, thinking about
his morning. Will was his now. William
would look after him. He'd
stop the vampires. He'd make sure
everything was okay.
He smiled. He liked Will. He wanted to
show him how much but Will
had said no. But that was okay. Will had
also said they couldn't
kiss and then they did so it all worked
out. He would draw it, draw
what he was feeling and the songs the
stars were singing. Lots of
swirling blue would be involved. Blue –
the colour of Will's eyes,
blue.
He could still feel Will's mouth on his,
his thin fingers tangling
in his hair. He could feel Will's arousal
prodding his thigh. He
decided the next time they did this, he
would sit on Will's lap and
feel that hardness digging into his own.
His cock jerked in its over
excited state and he ran his hand into
his pants. He curled his
fingers around himself and sighed.
He was so happy Will was here.
**~~**
"Angel."
Liam had his head on the art room desk
crying. He'd finally tried
asking about his family.
"Angel."
"I didn't do it, it was THEM!"
He screeched the last word in hateful
fear.
"Tell me about them."
Liam rolled his head on the desk, making
sad noises. His chest
shuddered with sobs and his eyes were
clenched shut, his lips
stretched over his teeth in a grimace.
Will tried to ignore the fact
he was in pain, and his body screaming to
be held and petted, and
tried again.
"How many were there? Angel? Tell me
Pet."
Liam took some trembling gasps.
"Three." He whispered. "Three.
Three."
"What happened?"
Liam pushed off the table suddenly,
howling, and fell off the seat,
he flipped around like a cat laid on its
back and ran for the
nearest corner, looking back with wide
doe eyes stupid and empty,
and terrified.
"Don't." He pleaded vacantly.
Will edged up to him sighing as Liam ran
back and sat where he was
sitting before rocking back and forth
watching his therapist in the
corner. "Don't ask me any more
Daddy, please, I'll be good, don't
press let it alone."
"Angel. My name is Will."
Liam started rocking faster, confused
look on his face. He hit the
tables with the flat of his hand as he
rocked creating a steady
slap, slap, slap, background noise. He
looked up and fixed the wall
with a zombie-like stare still slapping
his hand on the table. His
jaw was slack.
"Three. Three. Three Daddy. Did you
see them?"
Slap. Slap. Slap.
"Angel. What are you looking
at?"
"Three of them Three of us and I was
forth so I was brought back to
life. Three dead to kill. Not the forth
the forth was..."
His jaw snapped shut and he raised his
eyebrow as if the wall had
said something of merit.
"I understand that." He
answered quietly. "Daddy?"
Slap. Slap.
"William." He didn't want to
confuse Liam more by letting him make a
parental figure of him.
"No more of this, no more beetles no
more bugs." He said to the
wall, but Will knew it was for him. The
slapping stopped. He stayed
still, tense as a violin string and
looked at him fearfully. He
looked like someone had drawn him,
vulnerable and faultless,
searching eyes and lean long body, some
artist with a hard on for
exposed and broken beauty. When Will
looked at him he was reminded
of the painting that rested on the wall
in his mothers living room.
A stag at a river poised from its drink,
too pretty to be anything
but defenceless, perfect and exquisite.
"Alright." Will slid closer to
him, straddling the bar seat, one
knee behind Liam's butt the other resting
against his thigh. He
looked to make sure the guard wasn't at
the door before sliding his
arms around Liam's waist. He calmed
quickly. Liam tended to see him
as someone who could take all the pain
away quickly. It made him
feel sick and powerful at the same time
to have someone trust him
like that.
But he could swallow the sickness.
They hadn't done anything besides kiss
that one - those two times.
It was affection. That was all. Liam had
some self worth issues and
Will had made him see that he was good
and wanted.
A hideous putrid squawk of a voice howled
that he was a pervert.
He bit back at himself. He just wanted to
look after him. Wanted to
make him better. He felt Liam's lips find
his own and opened his
mouth after a quick glance at the art
room door. He was a pervert.
He knew what he was doing and it was
horribly sick.
Kisses are fine.
Nothing else.
Anything else and he deserved to be shot.
He couldn't help but kiss him.
He was whispering: "William Willaim
William William" happily into
his jaw, and rubbing his hands over
Will's thighs.
"Shhh Pet. Calm down. Will's
here." He pecked a kiss on his lips.
Liam looked at him and smiled. He was
beautiful. He was good and
beautiful. He leaned away and blew him a
kiss, making Liam come to
him. Liam giggled and leaned towards him.
***
"So how's Liam?" Jana asked,
sipping at her coffee.
Will looked around the almost empty
coffee shop before answering,
picking up his own mug. He ignored the
urge to say `good kisser'. He
didn't think that would go over well.
"He's good. I've got him as a
dependant personality exacerbated
from acute stress and separation,
susceptible to panic and anxiety
resulting in delusions, with a tendency
to recede childlike when
he's confronted or upset. He always wants
someone around and –"
"Doesn't want to fight back? Yeah.
Saw it. Let me also guess you
were thinking Borderline or even a full
Anxiety?"
"Anxiety yes, but I didn't consider
Borderline because I don't think
he wants to be hurt, he's just …" He
swallowed guiltily, "He's just
eager to please."
"Yes. Although he's definitely got
some sort of paranoia kicking
around."
"The vampires at night? I'm thinking
it might fall under the
category of some deluded phobia."
Jana made a face to show she hadn't
thought of that and sipped her
coffee again. "Been reading my
notes?"
"Yes, that's where the dependent
disorder idea came from. His wife
was twenty-four when he married her, when
he was eighteen. So he was
possibly leaning towards the disorder
before the, uh, incident."
"You think he wanted an older woman
to look after him?"
"Yes. And she was obviously
competent, looking after the oldest son
by herself."
Jana nodded. "I agree with that.
Darla was confident and very
extraverted, from what hes said about
her."
"Although I don't know where the
love of art fits in. That's not
usually typical."
"No one model can fit everyone. He
doesn't mind pushing at peoples
boundaries, just as long as he doesn't
upset them and he's also not
that pessimistic, can be at times, but
not continually."
Will nodded. He'd been seeing Liam for
almost two months. The
diagnosis was still tentative, from his
interactions with Liam and
the notes that Jana had taken over the
years, but it was always good
when another saw the same thing. Jana was
around thirty-five, with
dark hair and eyes, and quite a pretty
woman. Jana and he had
decided, when he had accepted her old
job, that she wouldn't tell
him her diagnosis and take those notes
out, and that way a fresh
look could be applied to Liam.
"What about the transference?"
She asked leaning forward. "What do
you make of that?"
"The vampire story? Fear of being
looked upon badly maybe? Fear of
being left alone once he admitted what he
did so he made up other
people and made them the evil ones. He's
just a victim this way."
"No, I mean the double transference.
The way he blamed vampires for
doing it and then made himself into a
vampire. In his head."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Well he says he's a vampire
right?"
"Yes."
"And by that diagnosis you just
gave, that should be enough to
alleviate the blame in his own head. He
could think `Liam' did that
and I am `Angel' so therefore no one can
blame me."
"Right, I see where you're
going."
"But then, he says `you can't blame
me cause I wasn't there yet,
Liam is to blame, but also? MORE vampires
came and THEY did it.'"
"Why did he double up?" Will
nodded. He always thought about that as
well.
"Yes."
"How could he become a vampire if
there were no vampires present?"
That was his theory anyhow.
"I think its more than that. He
thought they were monsters. I
believe he just saw them as vampires.
" Jana said, putting down her
coffee.
Will's stomach froze. "Them?"
Jana leant back, her face unreadable. The
coffee store buzzed around
them, teenagers coming in cackling and
squawking, tossing their
school bags around. Jana's gaze never
strayed from his eyes.
"You think he didn't do it? You
think there were other people
involved."
She looked at him, with her dark brown
intelligent eyes.
"Yes."
"What makes you think that?"
Will himself had touched over this many
times. Liam didn't act like
a murderer; he blamed others for the
death but was still remorseful,
not angry. He lamented their loss, but
still refused to accept the
blame, when Liam seemed to love guilt and
blame from other things
that weren't his fault.
"Well, I had him down as a dependant
personality as well. Before the
death of his family as well."
"So…?" He left the word a
question.
"So… why would he kill his
caregiver? The woman who looked after
him. Also? The children were killed
first, which would've shattered
Darla who probably was made to watch, and
again – upsetting the
stronger person goes directly against the
basic elements of the
dependant personality."
Will hadn't even thought of that.
"You're right. The diagnosis must be
wrong."
"No the diagnosis is right."
She was whispering. "He has become so
dependant now after the incident, because
he sees he was abandoned
by his family."
Will closed his eyes as a million
thoughts ran through his head.
Jana was right. Why would Liam, who so
needed the care of others,
kill his support, his family, the thing
that propped him up.
"Although" Jana said, leaning
back. "He may just have snapped,
figured out what he was –that he was too
dependent on a woman, and
didn't like it, so he decided to show
himself how wrong he was. You
never know."
"No, you don't."
**~~**
"So Angel, what's up with you,
you've been really happy the last few
weeks." Allen asked, coming up to
him in the cafeteria.
Angel smiled. He couldn't say. He was
really happy though. He sat
down and picked disinterestedly through
his lunch, still smiling. He
started humming.
"Seriously, they up your meds?"
He shook his head, grinning.
"Not talking today?"
He wasn't. Not today. His lips were still
humming from William's
kisses a few days ago. He didn't want the
feeling to go away and was
afraid if he talked it would.
He hadn't had a nightmare either. He
hoped tonight would be the
same. He might even try sleeping on the
bed, because no one could
get to him when his lips still buzzed
from Will.
**~~**
After thanking Jana for her time, Will
made his way back home. It
was Sunday and he hadn't seen Liam since
lunchtime Thursday. He
slapped himself after the thought. He
didn't realise `till then that
he had been keeping track.
Sometimes he would get so overwhelmed
with guilt that he would have
to sit down and wait for the nauseousness
to pass. After it had he
would promise to stop doing anything at
all with the man. But then
he'd see Liam, wriggling for some
attention and he'd give in all
over again.
He made a promise to himself that he'd
stop kissing him better every
time he got upset by Will's questions. He
had to ask them. Liam
wouldn't get better if Will couldn't get
inside his head. He'd
persevere and be firm.
He wished he hadn't thought that last
part.
He opened the front door of his apartment
and flicked on the lights.
Spotless from the maid service he hired,
spotless and almost unlived
in. He saw a few drawings Liam had done
for him on his dining room
table that he never used. He opened the
fridge and looked at the
time. Seven. Liam would be in bed for
lights out in two hours. He
rolled his eyes, pulled out a can of coke
and sat down at the large
table. It cost a lot he thought so he
should use it once every now
and again. Flicking through the pictures
splayed out across it, he
sipped from the can. He'd had the bird
framed and put up in his
office and the scenery put up in his
house. He kept the pictures of
himself in a folder. The back of his mind
was nibbled by his
conscience, but he didn't keep them
tucked away because he thought
people would see the care and effort in
the lines of his body in
those drawings and question him about it,
it wasn't that. He flicked
a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it,
inhaling deeply.
He thought about Liam. He wondered if he
was wandering around
whispering his name like he did
sometimes. He wondered if he was
smiling.
He wondered if Liam was thinking about
him.
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