Destiny

By PSUBrat

Author's note: Some dialogue was borrowed from "Seeing Red" written by Steven DeKnight the bastard. Oops! Did I say that out loud? <EG>

The Struggle Within

William sighed heavily as he searched his pockets for his keys. Finally finding them, he unlocked the door and stepped into his darkened living room. The moonlight filled a corner of the room where he kept several reminders of what he once was, a monster. A thing. Slowly he closed the door. Another night at home alone. Another night alone with his thoughts and fears. He leaned his back against the door and flipped on the light. The room looked even lonelier now that everything was illuminated. He closed his eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was still something he wasn't quite used to hearing, or feeling.

Straightening up, he walked over to his recliner and sat down. The fight with the vampires had been physically exhausting, but the fight with Buffy had been emotionally draining. He knew that he would have to break through several barriers with her because of their past, but he was hoping that there would be more give and take on her part. At first she had seemed almost happy to see him, relieved mostly. But now, now she was distant and he wasn't sure why. Was it because of their violent past together, or was it because he was seeing Cecily? The thought that maybe Buffy loved him had never crossed his mind. He was sure that anything that was between them, or could have been between them, died that night in the bathroom. That was the night that Spike died, as well.

Everyone wanted to call him Spike, but as far as he was concerned Spike was dead and buried. That name embodied everything he was as a monster, and he was no longer a monster. He was a man, and as a man he wanted to be called by the name his mother had given him. Like he had told the Bit, it would just take some time for everyone to get used to William. "Bloody hell," he said to the room, "who are you trying to kid? You'll always be Spike to these people." It was nights like these that made him yearn to be a vampire again.

***

Steven stood in the shadows outside of the Summers' home. He had been about to knock on the door to see Dawn when Buffy came home. It was early, even for her, and she looked extremely upset. What a pity. He hoped she was hurting. He felt nothing but loathing for the young woman. It was soon time to make his move. Ever since he had heard Fred and Gunn talking about her, he knew that he had to punish her. He had to strike at the very heart of his demon father's family. His plan was to start turning Dawn against her. He knew that Dawn was very important to her sister, but he also knew from talking to the girl that things hadn't always been so great between the two. Then, after hurting her through Dawn, he would go in for the kill, literally. And he would savor every moment of her pain.

The smile on his face faded as he began to think about how this outcome would affect Dawn. At first he was sure she'd be glad to be rid of her sister, but then reality would settle in and the girl would mourn. Would she hate him? Or would she turn to him in her time of need? He really cared for Dawn. More than he had ever intended. She didn't make him feel like such an outcast. One night while they had been out together, they had been talking about his life in Los Angeles. They had been holding hands and walking when all of a sudden the air began to shimmer and hum. At first he had been concerned that something evil was about to take place, but he had noticed that Dawn wasn't troubled at all. It struck him as odd, until she told him what was happening. She had inadvertently opened a portal.

The two had stood in awe as the portal opened on the Hyperion Hotel. He heard Fred talking excitedly to someone on the phone. Her back was to the opening.

"Is this where you lived," Dawn had asked curiously and in a hushed tone.

"It is where my biological father lived," he had said with disdain.

"I didn't know you were adopted."

"You could say that. Perhaps someday I will tell you all about my life, but not now." He had turned to look at Dawn at this point, to reassure her that he would eventually tell her everything. That's when things had begun to go very wrong. They hadn't been paying attention to the other side of the portal. He should have known that if they could see that side then those in the Hyperion Hotel could see them.

"Connor," Gunn had yelled, "Is that you?"

At the sound of his given name, Steven had whipped his head around to the voice that was calling him. He had locked eyes with Gunn who was now directly in front of the portal.

"Connor," Gunn had demanded, "Where have you been? We've been worried sick about you! And what the heck is this big hole?" He had been about to walk through the hole when Fred grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Gunn, no," Fred had cried. "You have no idea where this thing goes, if it goes anywhere, or if it's safe."

Steven smirked at the couple in the hotel as they looked at him in horror. He grabbed Dawn's hand and began to run. As soon as Dawn's attention was focused on their flight, the portal snapped shut with a crackling pop. After they had reached a safe distance, Steven slowed the pace.

"Steven, who's Connor, and who were those people?" Dawn had asked him.

He had shrugged his shoulders and told her he didn't know. That neither person had looked familiar to him. She had believed him, and so for the rest of their evening, Dawn had filled him in on who she was and what she could do. That was the night that he began to feel like Dawn was his kindred spirit.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Steven contemplated knocking on the door anyway to see Dawn. It wasn't that he wanted to see her; it was that he needed to see her. He felt connected to her now. As he started to make his way to the front door a voice from behind froze him in his tracks.

"Connor," the man stated. "I think we need to talk."

***

"Hi William," the female voice on the message crooned, "This is Cecily. I just wanted to call to see how your day was. Not that I didn't spend most of the day with you or anything. Anywho, hope you're having a nice evening, and I'll see you tomorrow morning at the shop. Goodnight."

"End of messages," the machine stated in a digital monotone.

William leaned against the kitchen counter as he listened to Cecily's message. It was nice to hear a friendly voice in the midst of all his negative thoughts. The soft light from the kitchen reflected off of his whiskey glass. He picked up the glass and looked at the amber colored liquid. He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. Maybe the alcohol could tell him what to make of the thoughts that filled his head. Probably not. Just as well. Time to get out the journal and start writing.

He walked back into the living room and turned on the desk lamp. He realized his desk was overly cluttered when he had tried to find a space to set down his glass. After clearing a few of the papers, he sat down and took out his journal. It seemed like he had been doing this every night since he arrived at Giles' place in England. He supposed it was therapeutic, but it just wasn't the same as sharing his feelings with an actual person. At first he thought that Cecily would understand his internal sufferings, but she was caught up in her own turmoil. He was never able to get in a word edgewise during her rant sessions. She was a sweet woman, at times. But he could also understand why D'Hoffryn had chosen her to be a vengeance demon.

The little leather bound book that Giles had bought him looked worn and dog-eared. Every time something bothered him, he wrote it down. And that wasn't including the watcher journal that he had started to keep. As he started to jot down his thoughts on paper, the phone rang. It was Giles.

"William, I've been called back to England. And I need to leave straight away," Giles said sounding like he was out of breath.

"What's it all about watcher?" William asked, as he listened to the sounds of Giles throwing things in suitcases.

"One of the paragraphs they've been trying to translate. Has something to do with Buffy, and quite possibly her death at the hands of 'one who had been cursed'. Perhaps it could be referring to the Master."

William drew in a sharp breath. "Perhaps? You need to do better than that watcher!" He started to feel the panic rise within him. This couldn't be right.

"Please try to remain calm William," Giles stated as he noticed the edge in William's voice.

"Don't tell me to calm down," William growled, "Not when it comes to Buffy!"

"William. Listen to me. You need to keep an eye on Buffy. The last thing she needs is for you to show your fear. Just keep this in the back of your mind. Keep your eyes and ears open. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Splendid. I'm on the next flight out which leaves in an hour. Just remember, not every prophecy that we receive is correct."

"You're right," he said exhaling audibly. "It's just that…"

"I know. I'll call you as soon as I know anything. Please let everyone know that I had to leave. I don't have time to call. Talk to you later."

William stared at the phone as he slowly hung up the receiver. As if in a trance he looked up Buffy's home number and started punching the buttons on the phone. This couldn't be happening.

***

Buffy sat on Dawn's bed, as the teen rummaged through her closet for something suitable to wear for the first day of school. She had tried on seven different outfits and discarded them for seven different reasons that Buffy could only roll her eyes at. Had she been like this at Dawn's age? She decided that she probably had been. It hadn't been that long ago that Willow and Xander had come over to help her pick out an outfit for her date with Owen. She smiled to herself as the memory played back in her mind. The smile faded from her face when she realized that it had been a long time ago. Had it really been almost seven years?

"Buffy," Dawn pleaded with doe eyes, "Please, please, please, let me wear your pink sweater."

Buffy rolled her eyes once again. As much as she loved that pink sweater, there was no way she was going to be able to say no to her sister. "Okay," she said feigning annoyance. "You can borrow it. Just don't get anything on it!"

"Thank you! Thank you," the teen declared, as she bounced from her room to Buffy's to retrieve said sweater.

Buffy followed Dawn into her room to make sure that the sweater was the only thing that she borrowed. The phone began to ring and the two girls raced for it. Buffy won and picked it up as her sister tried to take it from her.

"Hi Buffy!"

"Willow," Buffy cried in pleasant surprise. "How are you?"

Dawn's face fell when she realized the call wasn't for her.

"I'm good. How have you been?"

"Okay. Things have been a bit weird lately." She watched as Dawn took the sweater and left the room. "Dawn," she called after her, "make sure you get to bed soon!" She then turned her attention back to her best friend, "Sorry about that, Will."

"No problem. Actually, I'm the one that's sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Spike. I wanted to, but Giles said we couldn't. Some kind of big secret or something. How's Xander taking Spike's return?"

"It's okay, Will. I miss you too much to be mad at you right now. Xander didn't take it too well at first, but I'm hoping that they can at least get along."

Willow snorted and Tara giggled at the thought of Xander and Spike being chummy.

"Hey! It's the Hellmouth. It could happen! I can dream, can't I? Which reminds me, once we get off this phone it's beddy bye time for the Buffster. I'm worn out."

"Lots of big beasties on patrol?" Willow asked as Tara tried to listen in.

"A handful of vampires. Nothing big."

"Then what's wrong?" She and Tara both sensed that something was bothering Buffy.

"Oh, William and I had a little conversation tonight. I had almost forgotten how much he could get under my skin."

"Will…" Willow asked confused at first. Then she realized who Buffy was referring to. "Oh! You mean Spike. Forgot that he's William now. So, what did you two talk about, or should I say, not talk about?"

"What do you mean?" Buffy stuttered.

"Well, I just figured you two would be making with the smoochies by now. Well maybe not with the smoochies, but at least being all cuddley wuddley."

Buffy was stunned. What was it with everyone? Didn't they understand that her and Spike would never work out. Were her and Spike the only two people who realized that? "Willow nothing is going on between us. William is my watcher. Period. Besides, he's dating Cecily."

"Oh. Yeah. Dawn wrote Tara about that. Are you upset? Cause if you are, it's okay to be. I mean he went to Africa to get a soul for you and all, so it's understandable if you're upset that he picked Cecily over you."

Buffy sank onto her bed. She choked back a few tears before continuing. "Nah. I'm fine."

"Buffy, it's me here. You never were a good liar." Besides, she could hear Buffy's voice wavering.

She sighed as she switched the phone from one ear to the other. "You're right, Will. It's just that I finally realized that I was in love with Spike before he became human and now…"

"You're in love with Spike?" Willow gasped.

"Yeah," she said hesitantly realizing that she had finally said it to someone other than Giles. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

***

"Get off the bleeding phone," William demanded as he shook the receiver. He had been trying to get a hold of Buffy for over a half hour now. "Bloody women." It was almost midnight so why was the phone busy? He was sure Dawn was in bed, unless she was on the phone with that Steven bloke. He'd have to speak to that git about his phone manners and calling hours, especially on school nights. There was just something about that boy that didn't sit right with him. Steven reminded him of someone he knew but William just couldn't place his finger on it.

He was still trying to get over the fact that his Niblet was dating now. It seemed like it was just yesterday that he was protecting her from the world while Buffy was gone. Buffy. He was amazed at how all of his thoughts brought him back to one person. It was almost a year now since Red had brought her back from the dead. He closed his eyes and remembered the night she had returned to him, to them. He remembered every smell and every detail, the way her hair shone as she walked down the stairs, the way her hands felt when he held them in his. When he had realized that it wasn't the robot, he had wanted to take her in his arms and cradle her against his chest, stroking her long, blonde hair. She had looked so beautiful. At that moment in time he had thanked whatever god or gods had brought her back to him.

Then he remembered the look in her eyes when she had seen him again for the first time since…well, since he had left. He was sure that it had been the same look he had given her that night. It had been there for only a second, but he was sure he had seen it. Although, now, he was beginning to think his mind had only wished it to be there. Her words from the night he left played over and over in his mind, "I'm not saying I don't have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to become that…Ask me again why I could never love you." The guilt washed through him. She had forgiven him, but he hadn't forgiven himself. He didn't think he ever would. The struggle within him was almost too much for him to bear. And it wasn't just about what he had done to Buffy; it was about what he had done over the last century.

In his mind he knew that human William couldn't be held responsible for all that the monster Spike had done, but he still had all the memories. In his heart he took responsibility for everything. And it was in his heart that he was hurting most. "Enough of this. Stop acting like the poofter you stupid git." Finally he decided that he would just call Buffy first thing in the morning. But then a thought struck him. What if Buffy and Dawn were in trouble and that's why the phone was busy? Maybe the prophecy was true! Maybe the cursed vampire was at Buffy's house right now attacking them! He tried the phone one more time. Still busy. Damnit. Horrible thoughts began to rush through his mind. Without a second thought he grabbed his coat, and ran out the door into the night.

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