Living Arrangements
I've
watched him tiptoeing around the boxes Buffy sent for months now. Every so often he sits and stares at the
still sealed boxes in the corner of his room.
I don't know what else to do to ease his pain, to make it easier for him
to face the ghosts in those boxes.
The
first month was spent drunk. The second
was split between rage, guilt and fear.
These last four have been edged in a desperate loneliness that nothing
seems to quell. I hear Wesley come up
behind me and I can't stop the smile as he rounds the chair to stand in front
of me.
Will
was right. I watch Wes' quick darting
glances around the lobby before he leans in and touches his mouth against mine. I can't stop the happy sigh that is released
from me at the taste of him. We've tried
very hard to be discreet. I don't wish
to taunt Will with my happiness when he is so isolated, but it hasn't been
easy.
The
first time he found us clutched together in Wes' office he was gone for
days. I was overcome with worry and
grief. His only words to me upon his
return were 'I'm happy for you.' Neither
of us has spoken about Wesley and I since, but I know why it is that he leaves
every evening not to return until almost sunrise.
I
know why the sight of us together haunts his eyes. I understand and accept his occasional bouts
of jealously. I know I'm not the cause,
my happiness is and I can't begrudge him that.
I have found what he lost.
Sometimes when I see the pain eating slowly away at him I have to turn
away or lose myself in him.
Wesley
understands as I suspect no other ever could.
He's been patient with Will and I, knowing we have a bond stronger than
most humans could ever understand. He
understands that when I cry for William, it is not for the future he and I lost
years ago, it is because I can't ease his pain, as I so desperately want to do.
Wesley's
voice startles me out of my thoughts.
"He
took a knife to his room, I think perhaps he's decided it's time."
I
kiss him gently, molding his body to mine for brief seconds.
"Thank
you."
I
reach Will’s room just as he puts the first box on the bed. His hands shake as he reaches forward with
the knife to cut open the packing tape.
Once the tape is cut he steps back and closes his eyes. From the doorway I can smell them, their
scents mingled, slowly floating on the air from the box.
He
drops the knife to the floor, the arm closest to me extends, palm up, fingers
reaching. I shift to his side quickly
and take his hand in mine. His voice is
watery, and constricted when he speaks.
"Sire."
"I'm
right here William, I'm right here with you."
His
breath hitches on a restrained sob as he opens his eyes and steps forward. I'd give anything to take this pain from
him. I can't. He needs this to move forward. He needs to let it rip him open and cleanse
him.
The
next three hours are an act of torment as he continually alternates between
wistful laughs and bitter tears as every box is emptied and inventoried.
"Is
that all the boxes?"
"Yes."
"Something
is missing. The medallion I bought just
after Xander and I...became lovers. It
reminded me of us. The last night I wore
it was the night I turned him. I took it
off to shower. It was caked in blood and
I wanted to clean it. I never got a
chance to put it back on. Guess it got
lost."
"Do
you want me to ask
"No,
just another reminder and I've got a whole bloody room full of those now, don't
I."
He
stands and within minutes the room is back to normal. Most objects replaced in the boxes and put
into the closet, the rest, distributed throughout the room. I feel hope bloom in my chest. I can see him accepting, getting stronger with
each move he makes. I can see a small
sense of peace settle over him as he touches random photos and knick-knacks.
"I'm
going out."
I
touch his arm and he turns to me.
"I'll
be alright. Just need a bit of air is
all. I'll be fine."
And
I know he's right. He will be. William is a survivor. His pain will recede and although he may
never be completely whole he will be fine, in time.