CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Escape into William
"All right, what is the last thing you remember?" Tara asked. She and Spike were sitting on the couch, facing each other. The other three were milling about the room, wishing they could do more. Buffy still wasn't home and they were all dreading telling her what had happened.
"The last thing I remember," Spike repeated. "I guess, I was in my mother's study, writing. Which is often my habit first thing in the morning, right after the servants have cleared away the breakfast things."
"The servants?" Xander asked.
"Of course," Spike answered. "My father was a gentleman and my mother has worked very diligently to keep things in that same respectable state since his death. It has been difficult for her. But she has acted quite nobly."
"I'm sure," Tara said, exchanging glances with the others. "What year do you think it is?"
"Year? Why it's 1880 of course. You'll excuse me but you aren't British, are you?"
"No," Tara answered. "We're American."
"Oh, well that explains quite a lot. Your style of dress, for instance. Though I don't have my glasses on right now, I can tell that you ladies are wearing clothing that is . . . well, if you'll excuse me, your outfits would not be considered proper attire in London society. But I've heard all about you bloomer girls in the states."
"Yes, that's right," Tara said. "And in fact, that's where you are right now. In the United States . . . of America."
Spike opened and closed his mouth weakly. "How could that be? I . . . I don't remember taking an ocean trip."
"Well, you've been sick. Very sick."
"Oh, I can believe that. I should never have thought I would make an ocean crossing well. Entirely too much rolling about."
"Well, you're in America. And you were very sick and you lost your memory."
"And that strange contraption that we rode in over here. We don't have anything like that in London."
"It's a new invention. Relatively new anyway. It's all the rage here. Could you just give me a minute, Spike? I want to talk to the others."
"Now. excuse me . . . But you keep referring to me as this Spike chap. Are you absolutely sure that we're acquainted?"
"Oh, yes. That's just a nickname you use."
"A nickname?" Spike's mouth twisted into an expression of distaste. "Was I the one who chose it? I mean, it sounds so low and common. Something a street ruffian might choose."
"That's always been my thought exactly," Xander said.
Tara shot Xander a dirty look and turned back to Spike. "Well, what would you like us to call you?"
"By my Christian name of course, William. It was my father's name as well. And I try to do him proud."
"I'm sure," Tara said. She jumped off the couch and gathered her friends toward the kitchen. "I need you all to leave us alone for a while," she told them. "I'm pretty sure I know what's happened to him. But I want to see if I can shake him out of it."
"Are you positive you don't need my help?" Willow asked.
"No. I can do it," Tara insisted. "You stay out here till I call you. If Buffy walks in while I'm doing this, try and hold her back till I'm done."
"We will," Xander said.
Tara went back into the livingroom and sat down once again on the couch. "Now, William. I've got this little meditation I want to try. It might help to clear up your headache and return your memory."
"Meditation? You mean such as the mystics do? I've heard a little about Eastern spiritualism. But I've never put much store into it. Mother, however, does occasionally consult the tarot cards."
"Yes, this is like that in a way. It's very mystical. And you'll probably feel as if you're going into a kind of trance. Now, close your eyes."
William did as he was told and Tara performed an incantation to put them both into a trancelike state. The next thing she knew her spirit seemed to be walking in a darkened place, full of mist. The mist cleared and she realized she was in the Sunnydale cemetery. She walked ahead and came to Spike's crypt. The door was closed and she tried to open it. But a man stepped in front of her. He didn't threaten, but he made it very clear that he wasn't going to allow her to go any further. It was Spike, but it wasn't Spike. He had light brown curly hair and glasses. And he wore a fussy suit from an earlier age.
"No," the man said, gently but firmly, "I can't let you go in there. It's dangerous. A vampire is in there."
From behind the crypt door Tara heard cries of agony, then full screams of pain. "You're protecting him from the pain, aren't you?"
"Yes," the man said, "and I'm protecting you as well. You see, this way no one can get hurt . . . or be used. The chip doesn't work anymore now, you know."
"I know. You're William, aren't you?"
"Yes. And I will stand guard here as long as I must."
Another horrible cry sounded from behind the crypt door, followed by sobbing and mumbling that she couldn't make out. The timbre of the voice sounded more like the Spike Tara knew. William's accent was finer, more educated. "But, William, you are Spike, aren't you."
"Yes. Part of him. I was him. He doesn't like to be me anymore. But I have a job to do now, for all of you."
"Then I'll let you get back to what you were doing," Tara said. "We'll talk again later." And she walked away from the crypt through the mist and back into reality. With another incantation, she brought William back to himself as well. "How do you feel?" she asked the awakening vampire.
"Better . . . maybe. I'm not sure yet. The pain in my head is gone, though."
"That's a good first step. You wait here for a minute." Tara left William to gather himself while she returned to the anxious group in the kitchen.
"Well?" Xander asked.
"It's what I thought. We studied this in psych class last year. Spike's been through some really horrible pain." She shot a nasty look at Jonathan. "You guys really hurt him."
"It wasn't me, it was Warren," Jonathan said. "I tried to stop him."
"Well, you didn't try hard enough. He was in a lot of pain. And to protect his sanity, he did what a lot of people do in that kind of situation, he disassociated from it. He blocked it off in a separate part of his mind and went somewhere else. Somewhere that he thought would be safe, not only from Warren and his sicko friend here, but also into a personality that he knew couldn't be used against Buffy or the rest of us. You've heard of people with multiple personalities, right? They invent alter egos to take over for them when they can't handle something. Well, Spike did that. Only he didn't have to invent someone. He used the personality of the person he used to be before he became a vampire. That's William, from 1880." She pointed toward the livingroom. "That's who Spike was before. Who he is now."
"That?" Xander asked in amazement. "That's who Spike used to be?"
"Yes. And he's sort of standing guard between Spike and the pain, and what he fears he might do with the chip not working anymore."
Suddenly they heard the sound of the front door opening.
"Hello? Xander? I saw your car outside. Anya? Anybody?"
"Holy shit," Willow said under her breath. "It's Buffy."
William got to his feet nervously as the blond lady entered the livingroom. He'd been ignoring the conventions badly since he'd come to himself. Despite the strange attire of these American women, his mother had brought him up to always rise when a lady entered a room. But she'd never prepared him for what happened next.
As soon as Buffy saw her lover standing apparently well in front of the couch, she dashed up to him and immediately threw her arms around him and kissed him, hard.
The feeling wasn't unpleasant to William, her lips were warm and hungry. Her body was rubbing provocatively against his. But his mother had also taught him never to take advantage of a lady. And obviously this lady was mistaken as to who he was. He pulled her arms from around his neck and gently nudged her away. His face was full of embarrassment. "You . . . you must have me mixed up with someone else," he stuttered.
"Spike," Buffy said, "What are you talking about? Where have you been for the last two days? I've been crazy with worry. I should stake you where you stand. But I'm just so happy to have you home." She threw her arms around him again and buried her face against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Miss," William said, "but I really don't think we've been properly introduced."
Buffy pulled back and looked at Spike. He looked like the same man. And yet something was different. He didn't sound like himself. And she expected more of a physical reaction from him than she'd gotten thus far.
"Buffy," Willow said, cautiously leading the troops back into the livingroom. "You're home. We found Spike, as you see . . . I mean, uh, William."
"Oh," William said, managing a small smile, "so you're the Buffy I've been hearing so much about."
Buffy looked hard at her lover. His familiar blue eyes didn't seem to be jesting. Did he have amnesia or something? She turned to her friends. "What's going on here?"
Xander crossed the room to Buffy and pulled her toward the kitchen. "Spike has been through a lot in the last few days. I think we should talk about it out here."
"We'll be right back," Tara said to William.
Not knowing what else to do, William shuffled his feet and sat back down. He was having a simply beastly day.
Tara was the one who took over in the kitchen. She tried to explain everything that had happened as calmly as possible. That is, until she saw the fury in Buffy's eyes as she caught sight of Jonathan. He was trying to scrunch down as small as possible behind Xander. Buffy's muscles tightened as if it was all she could do to keep herself from killing the little pipsqueak. As a result, Tara started to speed up her story to the part where she'd taken her magical trip into William's mind.
"He's still in shock right now," Tara finally said. "My first intention was to try and bring him back to himself. But then I realized that he needs to work through all the pain from the last two days. And then he's got to face his fears about the chip not working anymore. I think he's afraid he'll hurt someone and that's another reason why he's chosen such an obviously gentle soul to sub for him while he's away."
"How long is this gonna last?" Buffy asked.
"Who can say? It could be a couple of days, it could be months. But I think at some point he will come out of it. He's really taking a lot of the things he's seeing very nonchalantly . . . like Xander's car and our style of dress. So some of Spike's conscious understanding of the passage of time is seeping into this persona of William. A real person zapped through time from 1880 would have trouble accepting things so readily. It's really a very ingenious thing that he's done. It may have saved his sanity."
"In the meantime," Willow said, "we'll all try and make him comfy, right? He doesn't know any of us anymore, so we'll have to take it slow."
Buffy shot another dangerous look at Jonathan. "What do we do with him?" she asked in a low voice.
"I'll keep an eye on him," Xander said. "That way, we'll know he hasn't gone back to his pal Warren."
"I won't go back, I promise," Jonathan said.
"We'll just make sure of that," Buffy said.
"I sure don't envy you," Anya said. "Spike not only doesn't know who he is, he doesn't know what he is either. We had trouble getting him in the car on the way over here. As soon as the sun hit the blankets we'd brought for him, he began to smoke and it totally freaked him out. Luckily he's easy to subdue in his present state. He doesn't seem to realize he has super strength. I told him he had a severe allergy to the sun and that it was life threatening. He looked at me questioningly, which of course I don't blame him. But at least that seemed to calm him down and we were able to get him into the car. I think you're going to have a hard time getting him to drink blood."
"Whatever it takes," Buffy said, glancing out into the livingroom at the confused man who both was, and wasn't her lover. Spike had been there for her when she'd been recovering from her resurrection. This time it was her turn to be there for him.
Escape into William
"All right, what is the last thing you remember?" Tara asked. She and Spike were sitting on the couch, facing each other. The other three were milling about the room, wishing they could do more. Buffy still wasn't home and they were all dreading telling her what had happened.
"The last thing I remember," Spike repeated. "I guess, I was in my mother's study, writing. Which is often my habit first thing in the morning, right after the servants have cleared away the breakfast things."
"The servants?" Xander asked.
"Of course," Spike answered. "My father was a gentleman and my mother has worked very diligently to keep things in that same respectable state since his death. It has been difficult for her. But she has acted quite nobly."
"I'm sure," Tara said, exchanging glances with the others. "What year do you think it is?"
"Year? Why it's 1880 of course. You'll excuse me but you aren't British, are you?"
"No," Tara answered. "We're American."
"Oh, well that explains quite a lot. Your style of dress, for instance. Though I don't have my glasses on right now, I can tell that you ladies are wearing clothing that is . . . well, if you'll excuse me, your outfits would not be considered proper attire in London society. But I've heard all about you bloomer girls in the states."
"Yes, that's right," Tara said. "And in fact, that's where you are right now. In the United States . . . of America."
Spike opened and closed his mouth weakly. "How could that be? I . . . I don't remember taking an ocean trip."
"Well, you've been sick. Very sick."
"Oh, I can believe that. I should never have thought I would make an ocean crossing well. Entirely too much rolling about."
"Well, you're in America. And you were very sick and you lost your memory."
"And that strange contraption that we rode in over here. We don't have anything like that in London."
"It's a new invention. Relatively new anyway. It's all the rage here. Could you just give me a minute, Spike? I want to talk to the others."
"Now. excuse me . . . But you keep referring to me as this Spike chap. Are you absolutely sure that we're acquainted?"
"Oh, yes. That's just a nickname you use."
"A nickname?" Spike's mouth twisted into an expression of distaste. "Was I the one who chose it? I mean, it sounds so low and common. Something a street ruffian might choose."
"That's always been my thought exactly," Xander said.
Tara shot Xander a dirty look and turned back to Spike. "Well, what would you like us to call you?"
"By my Christian name of course, William. It was my father's name as well. And I try to do him proud."
"I'm sure," Tara said. She jumped off the couch and gathered her friends toward the kitchen. "I need you all to leave us alone for a while," she told them. "I'm pretty sure I know what's happened to him. But I want to see if I can shake him out of it."
"Are you positive you don't need my help?" Willow asked.
"No. I can do it," Tara insisted. "You stay out here till I call you. If Buffy walks in while I'm doing this, try and hold her back till I'm done."
"We will," Xander said.
Tara went back into the livingroom and sat down once again on the couch. "Now, William. I've got this little meditation I want to try. It might help to clear up your headache and return your memory."
"Meditation? You mean such as the mystics do? I've heard a little about Eastern spiritualism. But I've never put much store into it. Mother, however, does occasionally consult the tarot cards."
"Yes, this is like that in a way. It's very mystical. And you'll probably feel as if you're going into a kind of trance. Now, close your eyes."
William did as he was told and Tara performed an incantation to put them both into a trancelike state. The next thing she knew her spirit seemed to be walking in a darkened place, full of mist. The mist cleared and she realized she was in the Sunnydale cemetery. She walked ahead and came to Spike's crypt. The door was closed and she tried to open it. But a man stepped in front of her. He didn't threaten, but he made it very clear that he wasn't going to allow her to go any further. It was Spike, but it wasn't Spike. He had light brown curly hair and glasses. And he wore a fussy suit from an earlier age.
"No," the man said, gently but firmly, "I can't let you go in there. It's dangerous. A vampire is in there."
From behind the crypt door Tara heard cries of agony, then full screams of pain. "You're protecting him from the pain, aren't you?"
"Yes," the man said, "and I'm protecting you as well. You see, this way no one can get hurt . . . or be used. The chip doesn't work anymore now, you know."
"I know. You're William, aren't you?"
"Yes. And I will stand guard here as long as I must."
Another horrible cry sounded from behind the crypt door, followed by sobbing and mumbling that she couldn't make out. The timbre of the voice sounded more like the Spike Tara knew. William's accent was finer, more educated. "But, William, you are Spike, aren't you."
"Yes. Part of him. I was him. He doesn't like to be me anymore. But I have a job to do now, for all of you."
"Then I'll let you get back to what you were doing," Tara said. "We'll talk again later." And she walked away from the crypt through the mist and back into reality. With another incantation, she brought William back to himself as well. "How do you feel?" she asked the awakening vampire.
"Better . . . maybe. I'm not sure yet. The pain in my head is gone, though."
"That's a good first step. You wait here for a minute." Tara left William to gather himself while she returned to the anxious group in the kitchen.
"Well?" Xander asked.
"It's what I thought. We studied this in psych class last year. Spike's been through some really horrible pain." She shot a nasty look at Jonathan. "You guys really hurt him."
"It wasn't me, it was Warren," Jonathan said. "I tried to stop him."
"Well, you didn't try hard enough. He was in a lot of pain. And to protect his sanity, he did what a lot of people do in that kind of situation, he disassociated from it. He blocked it off in a separate part of his mind and went somewhere else. Somewhere that he thought would be safe, not only from Warren and his sicko friend here, but also into a personality that he knew couldn't be used against Buffy or the rest of us. You've heard of people with multiple personalities, right? They invent alter egos to take over for them when they can't handle something. Well, Spike did that. Only he didn't have to invent someone. He used the personality of the person he used to be before he became a vampire. That's William, from 1880." She pointed toward the livingroom. "That's who Spike was before. Who he is now."
"That?" Xander asked in amazement. "That's who Spike used to be?"
"Yes. And he's sort of standing guard between Spike and the pain, and what he fears he might do with the chip not working anymore."
Suddenly they heard the sound of the front door opening.
"Hello? Xander? I saw your car outside. Anya? Anybody?"
"Holy shit," Willow said under her breath. "It's Buffy."
William got to his feet nervously as the blond lady entered the livingroom. He'd been ignoring the conventions badly since he'd come to himself. Despite the strange attire of these American women, his mother had brought him up to always rise when a lady entered a room. But she'd never prepared him for what happened next.
As soon as Buffy saw her lover standing apparently well in front of the couch, she dashed up to him and immediately threw her arms around him and kissed him, hard.
The feeling wasn't unpleasant to William, her lips were warm and hungry. Her body was rubbing provocatively against his. But his mother had also taught him never to take advantage of a lady. And obviously this lady was mistaken as to who he was. He pulled her arms from around his neck and gently nudged her away. His face was full of embarrassment. "You . . . you must have me mixed up with someone else," he stuttered.
"Spike," Buffy said, "What are you talking about? Where have you been for the last two days? I've been crazy with worry. I should stake you where you stand. But I'm just so happy to have you home." She threw her arms around him again and buried her face against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Miss," William said, "but I really don't think we've been properly introduced."
Buffy pulled back and looked at Spike. He looked like the same man. And yet something was different. He didn't sound like himself. And she expected more of a physical reaction from him than she'd gotten thus far.
"Buffy," Willow said, cautiously leading the troops back into the livingroom. "You're home. We found Spike, as you see . . . I mean, uh, William."
"Oh," William said, managing a small smile, "so you're the Buffy I've been hearing so much about."
Buffy looked hard at her lover. His familiar blue eyes didn't seem to be jesting. Did he have amnesia or something? She turned to her friends. "What's going on here?"
Xander crossed the room to Buffy and pulled her toward the kitchen. "Spike has been through a lot in the last few days. I think we should talk about it out here."
"We'll be right back," Tara said to William.
Not knowing what else to do, William shuffled his feet and sat back down. He was having a simply beastly day.
Tara was the one who took over in the kitchen. She tried to explain everything that had happened as calmly as possible. That is, until she saw the fury in Buffy's eyes as she caught sight of Jonathan. He was trying to scrunch down as small as possible behind Xander. Buffy's muscles tightened as if it was all she could do to keep herself from killing the little pipsqueak. As a result, Tara started to speed up her story to the part where she'd taken her magical trip into William's mind.
"He's still in shock right now," Tara finally said. "My first intention was to try and bring him back to himself. But then I realized that he needs to work through all the pain from the last two days. And then he's got to face his fears about the chip not working anymore. I think he's afraid he'll hurt someone and that's another reason why he's chosen such an obviously gentle soul to sub for him while he's away."
"How long is this gonna last?" Buffy asked.
"Who can say? It could be a couple of days, it could be months. But I think at some point he will come out of it. He's really taking a lot of the things he's seeing very nonchalantly . . . like Xander's car and our style of dress. So some of Spike's conscious understanding of the passage of time is seeping into this persona of William. A real person zapped through time from 1880 would have trouble accepting things so readily. It's really a very ingenious thing that he's done. It may have saved his sanity."
"In the meantime," Willow said, "we'll all try and make him comfy, right? He doesn't know any of us anymore, so we'll have to take it slow."
Buffy shot another dangerous look at Jonathan. "What do we do with him?" she asked in a low voice.
"I'll keep an eye on him," Xander said. "That way, we'll know he hasn't gone back to his pal Warren."
"I won't go back, I promise," Jonathan said.
"We'll just make sure of that," Buffy said.
"I sure don't envy you," Anya said. "Spike not only doesn't know who he is, he doesn't know what he is either. We had trouble getting him in the car on the way over here. As soon as the sun hit the blankets we'd brought for him, he began to smoke and it totally freaked him out. Luckily he's easy to subdue in his present state. He doesn't seem to realize he has super strength. I told him he had a severe allergy to the sun and that it was life threatening. He looked at me questioningly, which of course I don't blame him. But at least that seemed to calm him down and we were able to get him into the car. I think you're going to have a hard time getting him to drink blood."
"Whatever it takes," Buffy said, glancing out into the livingroom at the confused man who both was, and wasn't her lover. Spike had been there for her when she'd been recovering from her resurrection. This time it was her turn to be there for him.