Chapter 4

 

 

 

Xander’s eyes flickered between the silent Slayer and the equally silent Vampiress.

 

“Buffy has a soul,” Anya repeated her eyes steady on Xander, waiting for his response. Slowly her hand lowered and settled on Buffy’s shoulder. A gentle touch that Buffy shrank away from with a whimper causing all eyes to focus on her.

 

“You’re kidding right… tell me she’s joking.”

 

“No joke,” William muttered, raising a hand he went to run it through his hair in agitation, pausing when he saw the blood.

 

Buffy’s blood.

 

“But… how…?” Xander shook his head in shock, drawing a deep breath to stave off the babbling that he knew was forthcoming. “Who did she piss of?”

 

“What?” William scowled at him.

 

“Well it’s a curse right? Dru pissed off Gypsies so who did Buffy piss off? I mean a demon doesn’t decide one day to go get a soul… at least not voluntarily…”

 

“Buffy did,” Anya said her eyes narrowed in anger at her ex-fiancé.

 

Had he always been this biased against the demon world? And if so how had she missed it.

 

“But…”

 

“Alright all people with penises and all those under 18, sorry Dawn,” Willow announced abruptly casting an apologetic look at the teen, “please kindly remove yourself from the bathroom.”

 

“What?!” William and Xander both erupted.

 

“I want to stay, I can help,” Dawn whined even as Willow forced them to the door.

 

“We’re just going to clean her up, get her changed into something else.”

 

“She needs blood,” Will turned back to the door, eyes focused on Buffy’s still form.

 

“And what if she gets violent?” Xander crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“We won’t be long and if you still want to feed her your blood when we’re done than, whatever,” Willow shrugged. “And she’s not strong enough to be much of a threat Xander,” she smiled thinly at them. “We’ll be out soon,” were the last words out of her mouth before she shut the door in their faces.

 

 

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William paced a length of floor in the living room, stopping for just a second he smoothed a wrinkle out of the blanket laying on the sofa bed that Xander had opened for him.

 

“Didn’t think a vampire could lose that much blood,” Xander said softly as he carried the mop and pail that he’d been using to clean up the closet Buffy had been living in. William hazarded a glance at the pail and cringed when he saw the bright red tint of blood within the water.

 

If he hadn’t known it had been filled with clear water when Xander went in he would have thought it was blood.

 

“She’s going to be fine right Will?” Dawn asked softly as they both watched Xander disappear into the kitchen to dispose of the mop and bloodied water.

 

“Yeah… she’ll be fine,” William murmured sitting heavily on the side of the sofa bed, wishing he could put more surety behind it. Wishing that he knew that what to do for Buffy.

 

She was in so much pain, had been for months and he’d been so blind that he hadn’t even seen it.

 

And now he had to wonder if he was helping her… or if he was helping the thing that was driving her mad. Did his presence by her side make it worse or better?

 

“Maybe you should call Dru,” his baby sister offered.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Slayer shook his head emphatically, even though he’d originally thought of that days prior he was still of the mindset that it would do nothing to help. “In fact I think that would be the worst thing that we could do right now.”

 

“But… she had to have gone through something like this right? When she got her soul…”

“I don’t know Dawnie… besides the fact that bringing another souled vampire into town when something is trying to drive Buffy insane because of hers seems like it would be a monumentally bad idea.”

 

“But maybe she can help.”

 

“We’ll keep it in mind, but for right now…”

 

Dawn sighed, William could be so stubborn sometimes, how could he be so blind that he couldn’t see what was right in front of his eyes.

 

For all of his talk of hating Buffy, of not caring about her in any way, shape or form except as an ally his protectiveness was just plain weird.

 

The only other person that he’d been this protective of had been Dru, especially right after she had come back from Hell.

 

At least this time he was allowing someone to help him, even if it was Anya.

 

“I’m going to see if they’re done yet,” she sighed again walking away.

 

“She might have a point,” Xander said from the door to the kitchen. There was a barely there wall unit, and although he hadn’t been trying to listen in he couldn’t have missed the conversation.

 

“I’m not calling Dru,” William muttered. “We don’t need her.”

 

“Hey I’m all for keeping dead girl out of town… but…” Xander glanced back towards the back of the apartment. Where the bathroom was still silent. At least there had been no visible signs of a massacre happening in his own home.

 

But then he hadn’t known Buffy was slowly being driven insane either so…

 

“She might be able to help,” he finished weakly.

 

“Or she could make things worse. Buffy and Dru don’t get along in the first place, if Dru sets one foot in this town I can pretty much guarantee with her current state of mind that Buffy will dust herself immediately. She won’t let Dru help her… not even if she needs it.”

 

“But you think she’s going to let you?”

 

“She knows that I’m trying to help her…”

 

“Since when… and why do you even care?” Xander peered carefully at his best friend. The one who was currently avoiding his eyes, fingers rubbing a small section of the blanket spread over the sofa bed, face flushing slightly.

 

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

 

“Xander?” William glanced up at him in confusion, brow furrowing at the gaping look of surprise on the other mans face. “Are you alright? You look like you’re going to be sick…”

 

“I…I…”

 

“It was the blood wasn’t it… sometimes the smell of it has that effect on me to.”

 

“I… oh my god…”

 

“Xander?”

 

“You… you… you’re in love with her,” Xander hissed his face paling.

 

“What?! You’re crazy… I’m just trying to help her,” William leapt to his feet defensively.

 

“No… it’s… oh god, it’s like Dru all over again… you know you can’t sleep with her right?”

 

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

 

“Well soul plus sex equals Elizabeth the Bloody slaughtering us all in our beds.”

 

“Buffy is not Dru… besides the fact that her soul wasn’t a curse, she fought and won hers…”

 

“Says her,” Xander retorted. “God… this is going to end so badly, you know that Will.”

 

“I know that you’re overreacting…” William started the sound of a voice clearing drawing both males attention. Willow stared at them, Anya and Buffy standing slightly behind her watching. Xander frowned as he saw that Anya’s arm was draped around the vampiress shoulders, in a display of demon solidarity he supposed.

 

“Uh… is everything alright out here?” Willow asked her eyes darting between them.

 

“Everything’s fine,” William said pointedly. Xander rolled his eyes, nodding his agreement after a moment.

 

“Good,” Willow said her eyes narrowing at them, almost daring them to continue fighting in her presence. “Buffy why don’t you go lay down,” she turned to the pair behind her.

 

With her face scrubbed clean, a black long sleeve shirt covered the marks that William remembered being on her arms and chest, she looked young. Almost childlike. Gnawing on her bottom lip a look of apprehension on her face she nodded slowly and moved towards the closet.

 

She flinched, her eyes flying back to Anya and Willow for reassurance when Xander intercepted her, gripping her arm in a loose grip to keep her from entering it.

 

“Xander made up the sleeper sofa for you,” Anya said brightly moving quickly to her side she held Buffy’s arm within her hands leading her away from the closet and towards the bed that William was standing beside.

 

Xander remained standing by the closet, looking at his clenching hands in confusion. When he’d gripped Buffy’s arm, there’d been no muscle tone there, he could feel the bones directly under her skin and he knew then why the girls had clad her in the long sleeve shirt.

 

To hide the visible signs of her self-starvation.

 

Was it possible for a vampire to suffer from anorexia he wondered hysterically.

 

“I… I should…” Buffy gestured toward the closet door that Xander was closing.

 

“You should lie down here,” William said gently watching as Anya coaxed her into sitting. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

 

“I’m fine pet, don’t need to worry yourself on my account… just had a nightmare is all… no worries,” she pasted a smile on her face, her eyes huge in her face as they flitted between the different members of the group. “The spare room is sufficient for what I need; I’m only sleepin’ in it after all.”

 

“But the sofa bed is much more comfortable,” Dawn said quietly, her eyes sad as the vampire looked away.

 

“You know what… Xander, Dawn… why don’t we go get some take out or something,” Willow said, her tone brooking no disagreement from either. “I don’t think anyone is really up to cooking anything tonight.”

 

Unspoken was the thought that Buffy might be more comfortable talking to William and Anya without the judgmental eyes and ears of Xander and Dawn present.

 

Beside the fact that with William still insisting on feeding her his own blood in an effort to bolster her own supernatural healing powers… he might actually feel comfortable doing that if his baby sister wasn’t standing there watching.

 

“That’s a great idea…” William murmured. “Take your time guys.”

 

 

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Buffy lay on her side on the sofa bed. She had tried to curl into a ball, to draw her knees to her chest and had barely managed to conceal the whimper when her wounds twinged in pain.

 

She knew she needed to feed. Needed blood to heal what she had done to herself but she felt so lethargic… so she had decided to rest. Gather her strength to face both William and Anya, as well as not!William.

 

It didn’t matter in which direction she faced. If she lay on her right side she could see William’s earnest, determined face. If she lay on her left she could see Anya’s earnest, determined face.

 

If she looked down at the end of the bed she could see not!William grinning evilly at her.

 

She had decided on Anya as the lesser of the evils presented her, and had closed her eyes hoping to block out the sight of them all.

 

The door had closed behind bit, red and the whelp about ten minutes prior.

 

She could hear William and Anya discussing something quietly but she had neither the strength nor interest to determine what they were saying about her. She barely had the strength to open her eyes when the bed beside her dipped.

 

William’s warm hand stroked the skin of her cheek and her vague eyes met his worried ones.

 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked thickly, over his shoulder she could see Anya watching over them nervously.

 

“Doing what?” he asked smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear before he picked the knife that he had laid on the bed next to him up.

 

“Helpin’ me, why are you helpin’ me?”

 

“Because you need it… because I need it…”

 

“I don’t need help…” she murmured weakly closing her eyes. “I just need to sleep.”

 

“Actually you need to feed before you do anything.”

 

“I won’t take your blood Slayer, don’t need it… just go get me some good pigs blood and then go on about your business.”

 

“I beg to differ,” William said softly handing the knife in his hands off to Anya he turned Buffy, shifting her so that she was lying in the protective cradle of his arms. She struggled feebly for a moment before she stopped, what little energy she’d had expended she resorted to glaring at them both.

 

“Don’t do this luv,” she pleaded. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

 

“I’m going to help you get better so that you can help us fight this thing,” William stated determinedly, holding out his hand he flinched only slightly when Anya drew the knife across his palm.

 

“Fight it?! I can’t fight it,” she cried, tears streamed down her cheek, at the foot of the bed she could see not!William frowning at them. It’s you, how do I fight you? she asked wordlessly even as her nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood.

 

Of human blood.

 

Of Slayer blood.

 

Turning her head away she tried to squirm away from him but he held her fast, secure in his lap.

 

Pressing his palm to her lips he murmured into her ear. His breath tickling the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck she shivered, a whine escaping her as she watched a drop of blood slide down the smooth skin of his palm… only to be captured by her tongue, which moved of its accord to stop its path.

 

The blood, that tiny drop flared through her body. The sight and scent of Slayer blood flooding her senses in one fell swoop.

 

Her tongue darted out to continue cleaning her Slayers palm of the blood he had so willingly spilled for her. One hand coming up to hold it in place at her mouth she shifted in his arms, hesitating, frowning when she scented and felt his arousal.

 

Turning her head slightly so she could peer up at him curiously she found him watching her with unreadable eyes.

 

“It’s okay, you’re doing fine,” he murmured reassuringly in her ear, his breath once more tickling the skin there. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Burying his face in her hair he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then moved his hand to her mouth once more, urging her to continue.

 

As her mouth once more opened over the wound he and Anya had made for her she suckled gently, worrying the edges of the cut with her tongue and lips, their eyes locked together as he fed her.

 

At their side Anya watched over the pair protectively.

 

And at the foot of the bed not!William snarled in furious, impotent anger.

 

 

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