"Tara, what happened?"

"Nothing, my dear, don’t fuss." Tara turned back to the pan of porridge and began stirring it in earnest. "I tripped, that’s all."

"Tara, your eye. He hit you, didn’t he?"

"Please, Buffy, I don’t mind, really I don’t. We said we’d do what we had to do."

"Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. Put down that spoon and come talk with me."

Tara really didn’t look like she wanted to, she tried to turn back to her task, but Elizabeth caught her about the waist and drew her over to a chair.

"Have you put anything on it?

Tara sighed and sat herself down. "My dear, it is not the first time this has happened, I will survive it. You must tell William that I tripped so that he does not suspect anything. I so dread a confrontation between him and Ethan."

"Oh, Tara." Elizabeth let go of Tara’s hand and leaned her elbows on the table. She propped her chin on her hands and looked at her. "I am so tired of all this deception. Poor William. I think he knows I’m keeping something from him, but he’s too nice to press me on it. Should I tell him, Tara? I think he needs to know."

"No, no, you must not." Tara grabbed her by the arm this time, her voice rising. "We agreed, Buffy, that he would not know. He will never survive a confrontation with Ethan."

"But he should know. Alex said William isn’t going to like being kept in the dark, and he was right."

"And what does Alex know? Oh Buffy, please don’t tell him."

"But what else can I do? The only alternative is for me to leave here."

Tara took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, then she rose stiffly and went back to her porridge. "I’m not sure that would solve things any more

"I’m sorry, Tara. You do know how sorry I am for all this?"

"I know, my dear. I just wish it hadn’t come to this."

She didn’t turn around, just went on resolutely stirring. Elizabeth sat at the table for a few moments, watching her with a sinking heart and wishing that she would. She was sorely in need of a sympathetic ear right now and Tara had always been so kind, but it seemed that everyone around her was retreating into their own private misery. Misery that she was the cause of.

"Please don’t be angry with me Tara, I value our friendship."

She heard Tara sigh, but she still didn’t turn around and it was a few moment before she realised that Tara was crying.

"Oh, no, Tara, don’t cry, I can’t stand it. Please talk to me."

Elizabeth rose quickly and walked over to the range so she could see Tara’s face. She wanted to hug her again but she really wasn’t sure how that would be received right now. Tara wiped her eyes, and put down the wooden spoon very carefully then she turned to her.

"Elizabeth, William is like a son to me, you don’t have any children, so you cannot know how that feels." She raised her hand as Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak. "No. please let me finish. Ethan is like a husband, at least I have always liked to think so. I would choose William without hesitation over him, but you have to know how this is for me. If you tell William what is going on, then one of them is going to get hurt."

"I know, Tara. Who is Ethan, do you know?"

Tara gave a short laugh. "Have you not worked that one out yet? He’s the bastard son of William’s grandfather, the old Lord. "

Elizabeth took a step back. Now it was all falling into place. Being a bastard, he would have inherited nothing except for a great deal of resentment for the real heir. William.

"And is he stealing William’s money?"

Tara’s face turned slightly red and she tried to turn back to her cooking, but Elizabeth caught her arm and held her.

"You knew all this time and you said nothing?"

"You don’t understand, Buffy, I did it to protect William, and Ethan has always felt it was his due. It wasn’t his fault that he came out on the wrong side of the sheets."

"How can you say that?" Elizabeth felt her voice rising as she contemplated the full effect that Tara’s misguided love had had on William. "You condemned William to a living hell with the laudanum, do you know that? You’ve made stopped him having a normal life, and you’ve helped Ethan to steal his money. How is that protecting him?"

"I did what I thought was best for him. I loved him, can’t you see that?"

Elizabeth didn’t dare answer straight away, because she was so angry with Tara at that moment that she feared she might hit her. She seemed to have no idea of how her love had almost smothered William to death. So much so that he’d tried to kill himself. Yet, angry as she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Tara looked so stricken at that moment, and was breathing so hard, that Elizabeth became worried that she might have a seizure or something worse.

She hastily made her way across to the sink and fetched a mug of water, then she watched anxiously as Tara drank it, gulping in deep breaths in between.

"Go and lie down, you really don’t look well. I’ll watch the porridge."

"Buffy..."

"You could have killed him, Tara."

"And I suppose what you are doing isn’t going to?" Tara looked at her long and hard. "It is only because of me that William has survived Ethan this long. Do you think anyone would have missed him if he’d quietly disappeared? By keeping him on the laudanum I was able to convince Ethan that he posed no threat to him. Think very carefully before you do this, Elizabeth."

It was the first time Tara had called her that, and it didn’t sit right at all. Elizabeth watched with mixed feelings as her friend walked stiffly from the kitchen and she wondered if this rift between them could ever be healed.

She closed her eyes and pressed the palms of her hands over them. Little wonder she was developing a headache, it was almost too much to think about. She’d tried desperately to keep control of things, but all the secrets and lies were becoming an almost intolerable burden and she could feel herself losing her grip on it all. Tara wasn’t supposed to be cross with her, and William hadn’t been in bed when she’d woken up. In fact she’d seen neither him nor Alex all morning and that couldn’t be good. Alex disappeared regularly, but William hardly ever left her side, and it felt odd not to have seen him for so long.

She tried to imagine what he might be doing. He’d been so nice to her last night, even though it had been very obvious that she’d been hiding something. But she’d felt the subtle pulling away that her lack of trust in him had caused. And she knew that if she didn’t start trusting him fully, and soon, then she really would be just using him.

-----------------------------------

William hasn’t realised quite how hard it was going to be. He rubbed at his sore shoulder as he prepared to reload the rifle, squinting at the target to see if at least he’d hit it this time.

To his relief, Alex nodded that he had, then sauntered back, positioning himself at safe distance as William went through the procedure and fired off another shot.

Another hit. He couldn’t help grinning as he lowered the weapon. The thrill he’d got when he’d fired off his first shot had been totally unexpected, and that coupled with the knowledge that he was at least doing something positive to help Buffy was a good feeling. He tried to stop his mind making the logical leap to exactly why he was learning to shoot. That decision would be made for him when the time came, he only hoped he’d be up to it.

And Alex had astounded him. He’d had no idea he was so good at this that he could almost hit the target with his eyes closed. But then, he’d never taken the trouble to find out because he’d always thought of Alex as a weak-minded idiot devoid of any talent whatsoever.

"So, what’s this all for then? You going to come ‘unting with me?"

"You know what it’s for, Alex. Just want to help, that’s all."

"You got gun oil on yer face, never thought I’d see that. An’ ‘es mine, William."

William rested the gun over the crook of one arm and wiped a hand over his face, staring in fascination at the streaks of oil on his hand. "Who is?"

"You know very well who I’m talking about. Got a score to settle."

"You’re talking about Ethan, right?"

"Yeah, ‘im. ‘Ere, try again."

Alex handed him another round of ammunition, and stood back, arms folded. William started to load the gun, then he stopped and turned around. "You can’t just go and shoot him you know."

"I’ll do what I ‘ave to do. Bastard aint touching none of us no more. I’ve ‘ad it with ‘im."

He spoke calmly and with terrible conviction, leaving William in no doubt that he’d do it. He looked at the gun that he’d been firing off happily for the last half an hour and wondered if he could really bring himself to shoot someone. Take a life? He’d thought Buffy being in danger would be sufficient motivation, but what about afterwards? He’d seen what killing Caleb had done to her, seen what a burden of guilt she carried, and he was more of a thinker than any of them, how on earth would he cope if he had to kill someone?

And how the hell would Alex go on if he killed his own father? He might hate him, but killing your own flesh and blood? It couldn’t come to that, and he realised with some trepidation that it was up to him to sort all this. Up to him to stop being so weak and start living up to the title of Lord at last.

He remembered how Buffy had begged him not to confront Ethan, but it was becoming the only option. And, if he was honest with himself, it had been a long time coming.

As he fired off another shot, thinking that he maybe ought to go and find her, he also knew now that he was fully capable of making his own decisions, something he’d hardly ever done in his whole life. He’d let Tara and Ethan run his life and much as he loved Buffy, he knew that he was letting her do it too. He denied her nothing, did everything she wanted him too, let her dress him, cut his hair, and he did it out of love, out of gratitude that she’d stayed with him. But he was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that perhaps making himself into her lapdog might only end up in earning him her contempt in the end.

He’d never had to be assertive before and didn’t even know if he was capable of it, but now was as good a time as any to find out. He needed to talk to both of them, Buffy and Ethan, and he wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.

"So, what’s going on then? Has she told you anything?"

Before Alex could say anything Buffy was there, standing in the entrance of the barn, a look of confusion on her face as she stared first at him, then at the gun. He smiled at her, suddenly proud of what he was doing and, yet again, asking for her approval as he always did. But she didn’t smile back at him. In fact the expression on her face turned to one of horror, and before he could say anything she’d whirled around and run away. He stayed rooted to the spot for a few moments before thrusting the gun at Alex and taking off after her.

He ran out into the sunshine without a second thought, spotted her disappearing through the gate in the walled garden and went right on after her. She was just on the edge of the small wood when he caught up with her.

"Buffy, stop."

She came to a halt as she heard his voice, and turned, a look of shock on her face.

"William, what are you doing? The sun…"

"I’ll be alright for a few minutes. Let’s get under the trees." He took her arm as he said it and pulled her into the shade with him. "Why did you run away?"

She was still looking at him, wide eyed and horrified, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of what she’d seen in the barn, or because he was outside with her.

"You’ve got to start talking to me love, what’s going on?"

He was still holding her arm and he saw that she was staring at the streaks of gun oil on his hands. She traced her finger lightly over the mark and then looked up at him again.

"What were you doing, William?"

"Learning to shoot, I told you I was going to."

"But why? Why should you want to?"

"Because it makes me feel all manly."

It was only half meant as a joke and she seemed to pick up on that because she didn’t laugh.

"I don’t want you to." As she spoke, she held on to his other arm and pulled herself up so that her face was near to his. "Please don’t William, I don’t want you to get hurt. Say you won’t."

Her eyes looked very green this close up, and they spoke to him, pleaded with him to do as she said. She nodded slightly, her lips parted as she moved closer, pulling him down to her.

"Do it for me?" she said , in a voice husky with emotion.

And he felt himself going, his lips parting, a familiar tingling in his gut as he moved towards the kiss she was offering.

No, not offering he thought vaguely, rather, insisting upon. He badly wanted to kiss her, but he knew that yet again she was distracting him from what they were supposed to be doing. It was with great difficulty that he pulled back, still keeping hold of her, but at arms length so that he wouldn’t be tempted. If they didn’t have this discussion now, then they were never going to have it. And he’d lose her before he found out what was going on. All of a sudden that seemed a real possibility.

She looked shocked again, and tried to move towards him once more, her light perfume washing over him as she did so, but he held her fast with as gentle a grip as he could and still keep her away from him. She didn’t look happy with him at all, but he couldn’t back down now. This was a defining moment in their relationship, he knew that much, and it would either survive and be stronger, or break and never be the same again. It was a risk, but one he knew he had to take.

He scanned her face as they stared at each other, hoping he was doing the right thing, thinking how perfect her features were. At least he thought so. And then he remembered that he’d wanted to paint her portrait but had never got round to it and all of a sudden he wanted to do it right now. All of a sudden he needed a picture of her, he wouldn’t let himself think why, he just did. And he told himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that one day she might not be here, and it would be all he had of her.

"Let’s go inside, love. I’m going to start your portrait, and you’re going to talk to me. How does that sound?"

She moved her head, but he couldn’t tell whether she was agreeing or disagreeing with him, and his hands were shaking so he let her go and stepped back, raking a hand through his hair.

"Did you see what I did? I ran across the garden with no thought for the sun at all." A mild wave of nausea washed over him as he spoke and he leaned one arm against a tree, waving her away as she hovered anxiously over him. "It’s alright, it will pass, just give me a minute." He could see her on the edge of his vision as he fought against it, breathing hard, and telling himself sternly that he was not going to be sick in front of her."I’m not sure if this is because of the sun, or the excitement of just being out here."

"I saw you and you’re putting yourself in danger because of me, William. What is the point of learning to shoot, unless you are going to shoot something? And can’t you see that being out here is making you ill? Let me help you inside."

She offered him her arm, but he brushed it away, straightening himself a little unsteadily, and stepping away from her.

"So, you would prefer that I remained a weak-willed fool, who writes bad poetry and embarrasses himself with his overblown declarations of love? I’m trying to do something real for a change, can you not see that?"

"I just don’t want to see you hurt. William…" Her voice was small as she tried to move towards him again, but he raised his palms to fend her off.

"No, I don’t need any help. I’m going to talk to Ethan today and I’m going to damned well find out what’s going on. I’m not standing by any more and being treated with contempt. I know I’ve probably earned it in the past, but the time has come for me to change, and I’m going to, Buffy."

"Whether I like it or not?"

I’m doing this for you as much as for me."

"Even if I don’t want you to?"

He turned his face away so that he couldn’t see hers, because he knew that if he did, then he’d weaken. "Yes, love, even if you don’t want me to. But I won’t speak to him until this evening, please come and talk to me before then."

And with those words he left her standing there as he resolutely walked back into the sunshine towards the safety of the house.

--------------------------------------------

Elizabeth stared after him as he disappeared through the gate. She knew she should follow him and tell him everything, and do it now, but that would mean that he in turn would go straight to Ethan. And she already knew the consequences of that.

She gave William a few moments to get back into the house and then she followed him, but she didn’t go to his room. Instead she went to the king’s room, let herself in and went over to the bed. The bag of jewels were where she’d hidden them and when she’d retrieved them she went back to the door, carefully looked around to make sure nobody had seen her, and then she quickly made for the stairs again.

Raised voices told her that something was going on in the kitchen and for a moment she thought that William had gone straight to Ethan and not waited as he’d promised. But when she entered, it was Tara, not William, who Ethan was arguing with. They both stopped and looked up at her, Tara stiffening and turning abruptly back to her cooking, Ethan just staring at her, his face impassive.

"I need to speak with you." Elizabeth addressed him, and motioned towards the door, letting him see that she was carrying a small velvet bag.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he nodded briefly. She walked past him to the door, seeing Tara turn slightly as she did so, and let herself out, her hand trembling as she turned the handle. Then she ran down the steps and towards the barn, hoping desperately that Alex wasn’t anywhere around. In the dim interior she sat herself down on a straw bale near to where the nest of kittens had been and she waited.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before she saw him making his way towards her. She rose, her legs trembling and prepared to face him.

"So, what have you got?"

He spoke first, motioning towards the bag, a look of mild interest on his face. "Valuable is it?"

"Yes, I believe these are of considerable value." She opened the bag and pulled out the emerald necklace, hoping he couldn’t see how much she was shaking, because she couldn’t stop herself doing so if she’d tried. "They belonged to William’s mother, here take it."

He was trying to keep his composure, but she could see how his eyes lit up and widened slightly as he took it from her. "You’re a sly one, aren’t you?"

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth had to crane her neck to look up at him, but she steeled herself and tried to keep eye contact with him. Otherwise she was just going to run out of the barn and not say what she needed to at all.

"You’ve got that poor, pathetic creature wrapped round your little finger, haven’t you? The love I feel for her just keeps on and on growing so that I don’t now how I will hold it all."

Elizabeth took a step back. The last line was spoken in a voice that she assumed was meant to mimic William’s, and she knew it was from his journal, because he’d read it to her himself. At the time it had seemed tender and a true expression of his love for her, but coming from Ethan’s lips it just sounded crass and ridiculous.

"Did you ever read such a load of rubbish?" He pocketed the necklace and looked hopefully towards the bag. "What else have you got?"

Elizabeth put the hand holding the bag behind her back, her breath hitching in her throat.

"You’ve…you’ve been reading his journal, you have no right."

"Says who? All this should have been mine you know."

"Tara told me." She kept her hand resolutely behind her back, his mocking tone giving her courage that she didn’t have before. The thought of him sneering at William in such a way was almost unbearable. It angered her, and that was just what she needed to see this through. "You can’t blame William for it."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It’s never mattered. William has always been weak enough to control, as was his father, my dear half-brother."

For some reason Elizabeth had failed up till now, to make that connection. And if Ethan was an uncle of sorts to William, then that made Alex his cousin, and the next question came out before she had a chance to stop herself.

"What happened to him? The legend, it couldn’t be true, could it?"

At that he laughed long and loud. A sound Elizabeth had never heard him make, and it startled her so much that she nearly bolted there and then. The only thing that kept her in place was the fascination of knowing the real story behind the Angelus legend at last. She had realised by now that William’s father wasn’t a vampire or any such thing, but the devil, he hadn’t really come for him, had he?

"Let’s just say that William’s mother met with an unfortunate accident one day, and all I had to do was let the relevant authorities know about it, at a time that suited me. He made it to a ship bound for America, but damned me if the thing didn’t go and sink in mid Atlantic. You see justice always catches up with you in the end. You have to pay at some time."

"So will you Ethan."

"Undoubtedly, my dear, but not yet. Oh, the devil can have me eventually, but not today. Come, I have satisfied your curiosity, now you satisfy mine. What else do you have in there?"

Elizabeth pulled out another item of jewelry and handed it over. Ethan snatched the ring, somewhat impatiently this time and she knew that she was pushing his control to the limit. He put it in his pocket with the necklace and held out his hand, palm up.

"I’m growing impatient, just give me the bag." His voice had a dangerous edge to it now.

"I’ve told him."

"You’ve done what?"

"I’ve told William about you, he’s going to confront you tonight."

For a moment she thought he was going to hit her. His hands balled into fists and he closed his eyes briefly. She looked around for somewhere to run, but in the time it took her to realise that she’d never get past him, he’d opened his eyes again and his expression had returned to its normal one. He pressed his fingers to his temples and dropped them abruptly.

"What did you do that for?"

"Because I am tired of all this deception, and because I want you to leave." She put the bag down on the straw bale and quickly backed away. "Take these and anything of value that you want, you have plenty of time. He’s promised me that he won’t do anything until tonight."

"You stupid…"

"I can keep you supplied with money, anything you require, just go, because if you don’t, then I will make sure you have cause to regret it. William has a gun."

"And he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, come you’re not scaring me yet."

"And so has Alex, he won’t miss."

Ethan closed his eyes once more, then opened them and shook his head slowly. "You stupid bitch. You’re going to get them all killed, you know that don’t you?"

"Perhaps, but both of them would gladly die for me, as I would for them, so you see, you’re not scaring any of us any more.

"Perhaps not yet, Elizabeth." He sauntered forward and calmly picked up the bag, weighed it in his hand and slipped it into his pocket. As he stared at her she was struck for the first time by his resemblance to the Angelus line of the family, and how much Alex looked like him too. In fact the two of them with their dark looks had more of the Angelus in them than William did. But if he wanted sympathy for being a bastard, he wasn’t getting any from her. She kept very still as she waited for him to make his next move.

"I could snap your neck." He moved towards her so quickly that she didn’t have time to dodge, then he pulled up abruptly, laughing at her startled reaction. "Am I scaring you yet?"

"I don’t care if you kill me, you’re mad."

"No. I’m not mad. Greedy, resentful, bitter? Yes. But not mad. William’s mother was though. Mad as a hatter. Couldn’t tell me from her darling husband most of the time. I might even be William’s father. We never did know which one of us sired him."

"Stop it, I don’t want to hear this." She stared at him wide-eyed, "I don’t understand, why did you not tell him who you were? William would have made sure you were looked after."

"If he’d ever found out the truth?" He shook his head and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "I knew you were going to be trouble. Should have done something about it then, but no matter, I have another plan that will work just as well to my advantage. You will not win this one, Elizabeth."

"Neither will you, Ethan."

"Then we’ll all go down together. Goodbye Elizabeth, you’ll be hearing from me, and by the way, Caleb sends his regards."

---------------------------------------

"Where do you want me, William?"

He stopped for a moment, narrowed his eyes. "Back against the head board, lean on the pillows, like this."

She scooted backwards and propped herself up on one elbow. "Is this alright?"

"Let’s get your hair out of the way, shall we?"

As his hand lifted her hair away from her face, their eyes met and held for a brief moment. She looked away first, not wanting him to see how nervous she was. She had to tell him about the conversation that she’d had with Ethan, how she’d sorted the problem behind his back without even consulting him. It may be about to cost her relationship with him, but she’d already decided that William’s safety was worth that.

He finished arranging her hair, pulled back the quilt and smoothed out the material of her dress, then he sat himself down in the rocking chair, crossed his leg over his knee and picked up his sketch pad and pencil.

"So, Buffy, talk to me."

He hadn’t forgotten then, she’d been half hoping that he had, and that this conversation wouldn’t have to take place. It was suppose to be relaxing and intimate, a way for them to talk about this difficult matter in a calm and rational manner, but he looked anything but calm. His pencil moved over the paper in quick jerky strokes and after a few moments he ripped it from the pad, crumpled it up and threw it down.

"You need to relax, or this won’t come out right." He didn’t look up as he started another drawing, his pencil moving one again with the same erratic strokes.

She wriggled back against the pillows and let out the breath she’d been holding, tried to breathe normally but she was so tense that it was all she could do to drag the air into her body. How could she say this so that he would understand? Best say it plainly, she decided, for there would be no point in trying to deceive him further.

"Ethan knows what happened with Caleb."

"Hmm." It was his only response, other than a slight clenching of his fist where he was holding the sketchpad. He lifted his pencil and closed one eye, then he resumed his drawing.

"I’ve sorted it William, sent him away."

"I see. Just like that?"

"No. not just like that. I gave him your mother’s jewels."

"And?"

"And what, William? Stop that and come here, I can’t talk to you if you’re going to ignore me."

"I’m not ignoring you, carry on with your story."

He sighted with the pencil once more, tilted it this way and that, then resolutely continued with his task.

"Let’s leave here William, go to Rossendale, like you wanted to before."

"On what?"

"I’ll go to Plymouth. Alex can take me, and we’ll sell some things." She sat up as she spoke, but he motioned her down again.

"You’ll have to keep still, I can’t do this if you don’t keep still."

"William, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, I’m listening, love. What I’m trying to work out is why it should suddenly be alright for you to go to Plymouth. Are you not afraid of being found?"

"I’ll go in disguise, no on will recognise me and when we have enough money we can just leave this place. It’s like a prison, can’t you see that?"

"You think you have to remind me of that? What is it that you’re still not telling me?"

He laid the sketchpad flat on his lap and looked at her, his whole body stiff, trying to be stern, but she could see the hurt in his eyes from where she was. He still hadn’t learned to hide that from her.

"Caleb is still alive, he didn’t die. He’s looking for me and I gave Ethan the jewels to keep quiet about me being here."

"And how long have you known this?"

The pain was no longer just in his eyes. Elizabeth gripped the bed sheet hard as she saw just how much her deception had hurt him. And she saw the wall that was building between them as he shook his head in confusion.

"Does that mean that you are still formally engaged to him?"

She nodded miserably, wanting nothing more than to go and hug him and have him tell her that everything was going to be alright, but she couldn’t move and the emotion she was feeling at that precise moment was one of fear. Not that he’d hurt her, he’d never do that, but that this damage was happening that she couldn’t stop, and it was going to be permanent.

"I suppose so. But we could speak with him, ask him to release me."

"And do you think he would agree?"

"No."

She’d barely got the word out when the sketch book slammed into the wall and William was out of the chair standing by the bed. For a moment she thought he really was going to jump up and attack her, but he stopped short, his jaw clenched and his hands shaking.

"What the hell is going on? Did you know this when you ‘married’ me?" He put particular emphasis on the word married, his tone heavily sarcastic.

She scooted back against the pillows, shaking her head, earning another snort of laughter from him.

"Do you think I would hurt you? Buffy. After all we’ve been through, have you not heard a word I’ve said?"

"Of course I have, William, stop this, you’re frightening me."

"Good, then we’re even, because you scare me to death, Buffy. I’ve done twenty one years of growing up since you’ve been here, and I thought I was a man at last, but it’s all an illusion isn’t it? I speak and people nod politely as if they hear me, but I’m still that invisible boy aren’t I? The one no one sees, or hears or cares about."

"I care about you, William."

"Do you?" He did touch her then, with one knee on the bed he leaned over her and pinned her down, holding her by the arms. "I know you were just using me to start with, and you still are, aren’t you?"

"No, of course not, let me go, I don’t like this."

He backed down immediately, for which she was very grateful, because now she really was afraid of him.

He walked over to his desk and picked up his journal. "I opened my heart and soul to you, Buffy. It’s all here. Every single, ridiculous word. All the overblown sentiments, the pretentious pap, and this is where it belongs." The book landed in the grate, amongst the ashes, and for a moment they both just stared at it. Then she was off the bed trying to retrieve it even as he was trying to set fire to it with a lit candle.

"Stop it." He pushed her away, the candle flame leaving a smoky trail as he swung it back towards the book. "I just want it gone, I just want this whole embarrassing drivel gone."

"This is childish, William, don’t."

She tried again, but he held her off. "Well, that’s just me, isn’t it? I’m an overindulged, spoilt brat. How do you expect me to behave?"

"I don’t understand this, William." She stood up and backed away from him as he determinedly turned back to the task of burning his journal.

"Neither do I, Elizabeth. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I can see I’ve got a lot to learn. Damned, why won’t this catch?"

She couldn’t even cry as she watched him, dared not cry in case he thought she was doing it just to earn herself sympathy.

"Why did you call me Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth, Buffy, what does it matter?" He didn’t turn around as he spoke, and she could tell that some of the anger was dissipating. He wasn’t shouting any more, and his voice had gone very quiet, the hysterical edge gone. "I’ve never really known who you are, have I?"

"What can I do to put this right, William?" She was at the door now, and still he hadn’t even attempted to stop her leaving. "Tell me what to do?"

"I don’t know, Elizabeth." He turned to her and looked at her sadly. "I need some time to think, because I just don’t know.

Chapter 25

Elizabeth was fast learning that prisons didn’t always consist of walls and bars, and that loneliness and despair did just as good a job. They froze you in place and dragged you down, so that you couldn’t move.

William hadn’t followed her after their harsh words. She’d lain on the bed in the King’s Room and waited for him, even though she knew deep down that he wouldn’t appear. Something had broken between them last night. Something that wasn’t easily going to be mended. She’d woken up this morning as happy as she’d ever been, but that had lasted for only a few seconds as the memory of William’s parting words to her had slowly trickled back. And now she didn’t know what to do. She still didn’t know how safe she was. She didn’t know if William wanted to speak to her. She didn’t know if she had a future with him any more.

When she heard the knock on the door she stayed in place. She knew it wasn’t him, the sound of the piano playing floating up from the ground floor told her that, and she had no energy to move with anyway. Nor had she the will. To move one needed to be motivated and even if it had been Caleb himself come to drag her away she wouldn’t have bothered running. What would be the point?

She’d tried. She really had tried to take control of her life, make things happen the way she wanted them to and not as others had told her they should be. She’d fooled herself into thinking that she could do this, had travelled a world of experiences and new sensations in just a few weeks. But now, just as she should be sitting back, after all the excitement and effort, and enjoying it all, she was back to the beginning again.

It was as if she’d used up every scrap of energy she possessed to get this far only to find she hadn’t gone anywhere at all. Just round in a big circle. But this time she wasn’t the only one feeling pain. She’d brought everyone down with her as she’d always feared she would.

The thought crossed her mind that she should get up, find the dress she’d arrived in and just leave. Go to Plymouth as she’d originally planned. She was no longer the innocent girl who’d first contemplated running away. She was a woman now, and even though she’d been locked away in this place all this time, she’d learned to be independent, to make her own decisions. And after dealing with Ethan, she was harder, and knew what she was capable of. Being alone in a strange town held no fear for her now. But she couldn’t do that before she’d talked to William. She had to see if what she thought she’d seen in his eyes last night was true.

Another knock on the door, and she had just enough energy to roll her head sideways and wait for them to come in. Or go away. She supposed they’d do one or the other eventually. It was probably Tara with breakfast, or just come to help her dress. She was surprised then, to hear Alex’s voice calling her through the door. Sitting up, she raked her fingers through her hair and called him in.

He walked hesitantly in and stood by the door, moving nearer as she beckoned him over. He didn’t look as if he’d slept either.

"Come to see if you’re alright. William just near bit me ‘ead off when I tried to talk to ‘im."

"How is he?" she said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pulling down her tangled skirts. "He wasn’t pleased with me."

"Guessed that much."

"What shall I do Alex? I just don’t know what to do"

Alex moved closer, leaning his hands on the bed and letting out a long breath.

‘Es in as foul a mood as I’ve ever seen ‘im. Best leave ‘im alone a bit. Once stayed in ‘is room and sulked for four days." He shook his head at the memory, then looked at her again, concern on his face. "Where’s Ethan gone? ‘aven’t seen ‘im this morning."

"I paid him to leave. Gave him William’s mother’s jewels. William has a right to be angry with me, Alex."

He contemplated her words for a moment. "Maybe. No, don’t cry, didn’t mean to upset you. Seems we need to stick together on this. You and William, are you still…?"

"Together, I don’t know that either, and I’m not going to cry, I’m beyond that." She wriggled from the bed taking Alex’s hand as he offered it. "He was so angry with me. No, not angry, disappointed. I think I could have coped with the anger, but that, I just don’t know what to do with."

She wandered over to the dressing table, picking up the hairbrush and pulling a face in the mirror. "I look a fright."

Alex laughed softly and followed her over. "You do, that. Don’t like seeing you like this, Buffy. Not you at all. Got no fight left."

"But it is, Alex, can’t you see? I’ve tried to be different, but I never will be. None of us will."

He crouched down in front of her, and when she turned her face away from him he reached out and turned it back, touching her lightly with calloused fingers that felt so unlike Williams smooth and unmarked ones. Then he laughed quietly again and shook his head as if at some private joke.

"Listen to me, I want to say something, and I’m not big with the speeches and stuff, so I don’t know if it’s going to come out right."

He paused to make sure she was listening and he looked so serious at that moment that she stopped thinking about William and twisted herself around to face him, her hands in her lap, focusing all her attention on him

At that moment it seemed important to give him this. And not just because he was desperately trying to help her. Nobody ever listened to him, she thought and life here had been just as bad for him as it was for William. At least William had had Tara to love him. Alex had had no one, since Tara seemed to care so little for him.

She noticed him blushing a little as she watched him, then he closed his eyes briefly, as she’d seen William do when he was trying to think of the right thing to say. And her heart went out to him with the realisation that she loved him too in a way. Not in the same way as she loved William, but it was inevitable really. All of them being in such close proximity, she was bound to grow close to him. And he was a solid, reassuring presence who stood by her patiently and stoically, like some knight of old. Sword always at the ready to defend his lady. Who wouldn’t love that?

His hand waving in front of her face shook her out of her little daydream, and she frantically refocused on the task in hand. Now was not the time to start fantasising about Alex, no matter how appealing she thought him. Nodding to him to continue, she re- settled herself, wriggling in her seat and earning herself another small smile from him.

"Thought you were going to sleep. Me talking, does that to people." He raised his hand when she tried to protest at that, telling her not to worry, he was used to it. A small wink told her he was still joking, then he became serious again.

"Everyone’s changed since you’ve been here. And it’s your doing, Buffy. Nothing’s going to be the same again, you know that, don’t you? Did you know that William tried to kill ‘imself?"

She nodded miserably. "I read it in his journal, and he’s told me, since."

"Well, that just about sums up life ‘ere. We were all just slowly dying, until you came."

"And now I’m going to get you all killed, so nothing has changed."

"Who says that?"

"Ethan. He’ll be back, Alex."

"And we’ll be ready. You can’t just lie ‘ere and wait for ‘im."

"What else do I do? I should just leave."

"And what about William?"

"I don’t think he wants me, Alex." She turned back to the mirror and without much enthusiasm, began brushing out her hair. "He didn’t follow me after last night."

"Told you, ‘ell ‘ave ‘is sulk, then ‘e’ll come round. "e knows ‘ow important this is. You just got to give ‘im time, that’s all."

She sighed long and hard, threw down the brush and closed her eyes. William would continue to help her. She had no doubt of that, but Alex was right when he’d said that things would never be the same. Whatever she’d had with William, if she ever managed to salvage anything from it, it wouldn’t be what she had before.

When she opened her eyes Alex was standing, his arms folded.

"Remember that shooting lesson I was going to give you? I’m thinking you might be needing it about now.

She stood too, looking up at him and then marching determinedly across the room to the door. "Yes, I do too, Alex," she said, extending her hand to him. "Come on, let’s do it and waste no more time."

-------------------------------------------------------

William played the piano for three hours, banging out the notes until his fingers ached, then he slammed down the lid, leaned on his elbows and pressed his hands against his eyes.

He sat for a long time, trying to sort all the confusing images in his mind. She’d be waiting for him, but if he went to her, what did he tell her? That he’d do everything she wanted? It would undoubtedly make her happy but where would it leave him? If he’d thought she was right, he wouldn’t have minded so much, but he didn’t. He knew Ethan. Knew he wouldn’t give up so easily, knew they had to sort this now or it would only come back to haunt them. And he desperately wanted to do it for her, with her. But she seemed just as desperate to shut him out and do it without him.

She had no idea what he’d been through, how controlled he’d been and what doing this meant to him. He missed her, but he knew now that before he could love her properly he had to find himself. Find out who he truly was. He’d offered himself to her, but he wasn’t sure what he’d actually given her.

Rational wasn’t ever a word that he would have applied to love because he’d always imagined that it would involve a kind of madness. And up till now, it had, for him at least. He thought back to the night they’d gone fishing and how he’d decided that he’d help her even if there was nothing in it for him. He thought of all the times he’d cautioned himself not to pin all his hopes on Buffy being his saviour. If he could well and truly get himself to that place, then he could help her with a clear head. That’s what she needed right now, and if they survived this, then he’d romance her. Then would be the time for poetry, and pretty speeches.

Pulling back would be painful, he knew that because he was besotted with her. But that was no good. She’d fallen in love with her rescuer and she with the first young woman he’d ever met. Love had to be based on more than need and infatuation.

He had to laugh. A romantic with a philosopher’s mind, no experience of the world, running on instinct alone, now. It would be a miracle if he survived intact.

He did know one thing, though. The time for hiding in the dark was over.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"I’m thinking I’ll go be a soldier, join the army."

Elizabeth lowered the gun and pushed back her hair, leaving a dirty smear across her face. "Alex, you can’t leave us."

He shrugged his shoulders and handed her another round. "Why not, got no reason to stay after this. Never been wanted ‘ere, ‘ave I?" He pointed to the gun, which she started methodically reloading as he’d taught her. "I’m good at this, only thing I am good at, I’ll go be a sharpshooter or something."

"But you’re part of this family, you do know who Ethan is, don’t you?"

He looked at her blankly, lifting the barrel of the gun and aligning it for her. "He’s my father."

"He’s also half-brother to William’s father, did you not know that?"

Her news did not seem to affect Alex as much as she thought it might. He stopped for a moment and thought about it, then he stepped back out of her line of fire. "Always ‘ad me suspicions."

"But that makes you one of them too, it means you do belong here."

"I ‘ate this place, Buffy. Once I leave, I’m never coming back. Fire your shot."

She levelled the gun, but before she could fire it a movement caught her eye. Her finger still on the trigger, she turned to find Ethan standing a few yards away, in the shadows, watching her. For a moment she though she was imagining him. The whole scene had a dreamlike quality about it, and perhaps because Alex was with her this time she was strangely unafraid.

Or perhaps it was the gun she was holding?

He looked a little blurred as she closed one eye and held him in her sights, and for a moment she really thought she could do it. One shot is all it would take, she couldn’t miss at this range, and all their worries would be over. At least this one would be.

He moved towards her, and she took a step back, bumping into Alex who was behind her now. He caught her as she stumbled and for a moment they all stood very still.

Her hands start to shake as her finger tightened on the trigger. There’d be blood, lots of blood, just as there had been with Caleb, and this time, there’d be no mistaking that she’d be damned, with no reprieve. This wouldn’t be an accident, it would be a deliberate act of murder and it didn’t matter that no one but Tara would be sorry to see him go.

Alex had the gun off her before her thoughts could go any further. Where her hands had shaken, his were rock solid, and where she’d wavered, she could see nothing but determination in his eyes. Moving himself in front of her, he calmly raised it.

"What do you want?"

"Got something for young Elizabeth there."

Alex flicked her a puzzled glance as it dawned on him who Elizabeth was, then Ethan’s hand moved towards his pocket, causing Alex to jerk back round towards his father, and Elizabeth’s heart nearly stopped at the suddenness of it. Her hands were halfway to her ears before she realised that he hadn’t fired, and that Ethan was holding a letter, not a pistol as they’d obviously both feared.

"Go away, Alex." Ethan’s voice was icy cold as he addressed his son, treating him with the disdain he’d always done. "My business is with Elizabeth."

"I’m going nowhere, what’s that?"

Ethan smiled and held up the letter. "It’s from you fiancée, Elizabeth. He really does miss you, you know."

Another confused look from Alex. She moved in closer to him, grabbing at a handful of his shirt for support. He was shaking now, but not from fear.

"Do you want it, Buffy?"

She didn’t know if she did or not. What could Caleb have to say that could possibly persuade her to return to him? She’d never know unless she read it, so she managed a shaky, yes and Alex nodded to his father to throw the letter down. She ran out from behind him and picked it up, her hands shaking so much now that she nearly dropped it. Her full name was carefully written on the front, as if the writer had wanted it left in no doubt that it was for her.

She stared at the writing for a few moments as if the name could miraculously change to someone else’s. As if this nightmare wasn’t hers after all, and this was all some terrible mistake. Alex nodded her encouragement as she moved back behind him, the gun still trained on his father, who didn’t seem the slightest bit worried that he quite possibly stood a hair’s breadth away from death.

"He wants an answer." Ethan nodded at the letter. "Without delay. Read it."

"Don’t take any notice Buffy. You don’t ‘ave to." Alex looked from her to his father. "And you, just go. I don’t ever want to see you again."

"Shut up, Alex." Ethan dismissed him as if he wasn’t even there, let alone holding a loaded gun on him. "Read it, Elizabeth. Caleb is most anxious to hear from you."

Alex stiffened again at his father’s words, his finger twitching on the trigger.

"Leave ‘er alone. Just go."

"No, it’s alright, Alex. I’ll read it. But I’m not going back to him." That she addressed to Ethan. "Nothing he could say would make me go back."

She broke the seal, almost ripping the page as she drew it out of the envelope, aware of the two men watching her. Ethan with a complacent half-smile, Alex torn between watching his father, and anxiety for her.

"He’s going to marry my sister, Dawn."

The letter fell from her hand as the full realisation of Caleb’s power struck her. She wasn’t going to get away from him. She was never going to get away from him.

The letter fluttered to the floor, along with all the hopes and dreams. The future she’d planned with William. Any chance of happiness. This was a nightmare she wasn’t going to wake up from, she would just have to live it.

She was aware of Alex’s arm coming out to steady her as her knees started to give way, and also that in doing so he’d lowered the gun. In one swift motion Ethan had both hands on the barrel, jerking it towards himself, then swinging it sideways, and there was a sickening crack as it made contact with the side of Alex’s head. Alex staggered, almost knocking her over, then he twisted and took hold of the gun once more, jamming the barrel into his father’s chest.

Just as it had with Caleb, time seemed to speed up and then just as suddenly, slow down. Elizabeth was aware of every detail of the scene as it unfolded before her.

The bright splash of crimson in Alex’s hair, the look of anguish on his face as he realised what he was about to do. Ethan’s harsh breathing as he looked at his son, seeing him as if for the first time. Shaking his head, disbelief on his face because he knew that his time had come.

Her own hands, shaking uncontrollably now as she held them over her ears and screamed at Alex not to fire.

The deafening sound as the gun went off, mixed with more screams. The smell of gunpowder.

And the blood.

She thought there’d been blood with Caleb, but it had been nothing compared to the thick red spray that seemed to explode from Ethan’s chest.

It was a sight she thought she’d never see, and yet twice now, in so short a time, she was to watch a man die. Because of her. Alex’s arm came around her once more as they both twisted instinctively away, the blood splashing over them, soaking their clothes and hair, sickly sweet and still warm. She felt it seeping into the thin material of her dress, watched it spreading across Alex’s white shirt. At that moment the world seemed full of blood and nothing else.

She could hear Alex’s voice repeating "don’t look" over and over, but she couldn’t help it. Twisting her head from where it was now jammed against him she saw Ethan stagger backwards, clawing at the wound, and then falling and hitting the floor with a thud. More blood as it poured from the gaping hole in his chest, collecting in a pool beside him, and Alex was turning her away again, pulling her against him once more, her face smearing with the blood on his shirt. His whole body trembling as he held on to her.

The gun clattered to the floor, and then Alex loosened his grip and she was looking into his shocked face, his eyes bright with tears, as he whispered in a voice that was barely there.

"Buffy, what ‘ave I done?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of gunfire around the grounds wasn’t unusual and it barely gave William cause to look up from the book he was attempting to read. But the words kept going out of focus, and when he should have been reading philosophy all he could see was her face. The look she’d given him last night when he’d sent her away. And in his mind was her voice, asking what she could do to put things right. And he still didn’t know.

Perhaps his head was too full of romantic nonsense, because he wanted nothing more than to get down on his hands and knees and beg her forgiveness, tell her he’d do anything she wanted if only she’d carry on loving him.

Another shot registered on the edges of his mind as he wondered whether this was what growing up was really about. Making difficult decisions, doing the right thing. Even if it wasn’t the thing that made you happiest of all.

The scream took him completely by surprise, so much so that it took him a moment to work out just what he was hearing.

My God, Buffy’s been shot, was his first thought as he dropped his book and raced from the room. He knew she was in the barn with Alex.

What if she’d shot him? Guns misfired, Alex had once been laid up for weeks after a gun had exploded on him. As he ran towards the kitchen all these thoughts and more went through his head.

Tara met him at the bottom of the grand staircase, her face white with shock.

"Did you hear it William?" And even as she spoke another scream sent them both running for the back door.

William left Tara behind as he ran out into the sunlight for the second time in as many days, pausing momentarily to get his bearings. The big barn, that’s where Alex had the target set up. Turning up the collar of his shirt he shaded his face with his hands and didn’t stop running until he was standing in the entrance, frozen with shock at the sight of both Alex and Buffy covered with blood.

He was so fixated on that and the grisly implications that he didn’t even see Ethan at first. All he saw was that one of them, or both of them, were covered in so much blood that they were surely going to die. And he didn’t know which one.

And when he saw Ethan he still didn’t know. For the first time he could feel what it had been like for Buffy on that night when she’d thought she’d killed Caleb. He was having enough trouble making sense of the scene before him, how much worse would it be if you were actually the murderer.

Dropping to his knees in front of them he looked from one to the other, panic gripping him as he asked his question.

"Is one of you hurt?"

She was shaking her head and relief flooded through him so sharply that he felt a little dizzy. So much blood. He’d never seen anything like this. But this was another test, another step in his journey to finding out exactly who he was. So he swallowed the feeling down. Someone had to take charge, and the two in front of him certainly didn’t look capable of that right now.

"What happened? Buffy? Alex?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but Alex got in first.

" ‘e deserved it. Tell ‘im Buffy."

That’s when he noticed Alex’s tear stained face and he knew exactly what had happened. Another small feeling of relief that it wasn’t Buffy who’d done this, but Alex’s distraught expression was almost unbearable to witness.

Then Tara arrived, so out of breath that when she saw Ethan’s body she couldn’t even scream. William didn’t know which way to go. Buffy was still holding Alex, her fingers smoothing back his blood- slicked hair insistently as they stared at each other, sharing something he wasn’t a part of. And Alex’s knuckles were white where his fingers curled around handfuls of her dress, squeezing out more blood from the material as he held her.

William felt his stomach lurch once more as he turned his attention to Tara who was kneeling by Ethan’s body now, her mouth open and her eyes impossibly wide. A man shot at close range wasn’t a pretty site. He wondered how something so small could make a hole so big and then he saw that Ethan was still breathing. Shallow gasping breaths as if he was refusing to die by sheer force of will.

He knew enough to realise that a man could never survive such an injury but Tara had Ethan by the head now, cradling it in her lap and stroking his cheek as he rattled out his dying breath.

And as he did so, a deathly silence settled over the scene as they all stared at the body, each of them coming to terms with it in their own way.

Tara was still holding Ethan’s head, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. William could see that she was on the edge of hysterics so he quietly moved behind her and took hold of her shoulders. He tried pulling her away but she was having none of it, hanging on to Ethan’s body grimly as if by doing so she could bring him back to life.

Alex was staring at his mother as she dissolved into noisy sobs, then he picked up the gun and rose abruptly. Buffy grabbed at his sleeve but he was away and out of the barn before she could stop him.

William was aware of her picking something up from the floor as she pushed herself to her feet, her eyes fixed on the body before her.

"Go after him, he’s taken the gun." William motioned towards the door through which Alex had disappeared. Buffy nodded, dumbly, and with one last glance at Ethan she too ran out of the barn. William heard her calling Alex’s name as he turned his attention to Tara.

"Come away, there’s nothing you can do," he said, turning her face to his so he could see if she was listening. "He’s dead, Tara, do you hear me, come away."

"I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him. William, what’s Alex done?"

"I don’t know what happened, come on."

He managed to pull her away at last, half dragging her back to the house, knowing he’d have to come back and do something about the body. As he pulled her to her feet, he noticed a scrap of paper lying beside where Buffy had been and he stooped to pick it up.

An envelope, with her name on it. Something Ethan had given her? Something worth dying for? He stuffed it in his pocket, trying not to think of it now. Right now he needed to get Tara back into the house, and perhaps get some of the laudanum into her before she lost control completely. And as he shepherded her out of the barn and back to the house he suddenly felt a tremendous sense of freedom, as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Sorry as he felt for Ethan, all they had to worry about now was getting as far away from Caleb as possible. They would go to Rossendale, he decided and if Caleb followed them there, he’d take Buffy to the continent, or America. Tara would tell them what Ethan had done with his money.

Settling her in the rocking chair, he knelt beside her until she calmed down a little, then when he was sure she wasn’t going to expire from it all, he went up to her room to fetch the sleeping draught that had been his friend for so long. He wondered if Buffy had found Alex.

As he returned to the kitchen to find Tara still weeping into her handkerchief, he knew that his life had just taken another sharp turn. Everything was changing so fast. As he tried to persuade her to take some of the draught he prayed he’d be up to all these new challenges.

"Cover him up for me, will you William? And you will bury him when it gets dark?" She sounded so pathetic that he gave her another hug. It had to be hard for her, torn between Ethan and Alex as she must be right now. Alex had looked to her for understanding, but she hadn’t given it.

"I will, come on, let’s get you to your room." He helped her up and walked her to the stairs, reassuring her all the while that he would deal with Ethan’s body, but not relishing the task one bit. And hoping all the while that Buffy had found Alex and stopped him doing something stupid with the gun.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

He’d done it for her.

He knew she’d never love him, but he’d sold his soul for her, anyway. And reserved a place in hell in doing so, because the devil must have a special spot for children who killed their parents. That much he was sure of.

Alex looked up from where he was slumped against the wall in the cellar, the newly reloaded gun across his knees, and wondered why he was seeing angels, when he was supposed to be in hell.

"Alex? Is that you?"

The angel spoke to him. Perhaps he wasn’t going to hell after all? Perhaps God had taken pity on him, seen how evil Ethan was?

Right then, he desperately needed someone to tell him that he’d done the right thing. And he wanted his mother like he’d never wanted her before. Thought he’d got to the stage where he could do without her love, when she was so obviously never going to give it. He needed her but the look she’d given him when she’d come into the barn had squashed any hope he could ever have of reconciling with her now..

"Alex?" A hand moving over his face, someone tugging at the gun.

"Buffy?"

It’s me, Alex. Give me the gun."

She tried to take it again, but he held on tight, because he had no right to live after what he’d done. But it was a poor choice. He could go to hell now, or it would come to him in his every waking moment, and in all of his dreams. Either way there’d be no escape.

"Alright." She let go of the gun and he saw her kneeling in front of him, felt her hands take his face and hold it.

"Look at me, I need to know you’re listening to me."

Caleb was going to marry Dawn, her sister. The thought filtered through his foggy brain, telling him it wasn’t over yet, and that only the problem with Ethan had been solved.

" ‘ave you told William about the letter?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven’t. Please give me the gun, Alex?"

He let her have it, watching as she unloaded it and put it carefully aside.

"Tell me I did the right thing."

Her hand again, stroking his face. And he leaned into it, covering it with his own, desperate for comfort. Willing to take anything that was offered right now.

He’d been so proud of himself, standing by while William and Buffy shared a bed, shared closeness, but he’d always known he’d have to leave at some time.

It wasn’t so much that he was in love with Buffy, so much as what she represented. It would have seemed odd if he hadn’t fallen for her, and he knew that William, because of his position, would have always had first claim. But it had brought home to him just how empty his life was, and how much he wanted someone, anyone, to love him too. He was never going to find that if he stayed here.

"You did, Alex. I’m sorry you had to do that for me."

"I did it for me too. ‘e’s made all our lives a bloody misery, just couldn’t stand it any more."

"It’s alright, Alex. Come into the house." Her hand was in his now, tugging at him gently, her eyes full of concern, for him. So he got up and went with her, because she was the only thing that made sense at that moment. She was kindness and softness in the midst of this harsh, ugly nightmare that was his life, and at that moment he’d have followed her to the end of the earth, if she’d asked him.

They met William on the stairs and he saw Buffy shake her head when he asked if she needed help. And he thought he felt something akin to understanding as William caught his eye and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. He, of all people, should know.

"Take this." William passed the sleeping draught to Buffy, who took it and stared at the bottle. "It will help him, believe me, it will."

She nodded and then Alex felt her hand in his once more, leading him to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed. Head in his hands, her arm across his shoulder as she offered him the laudanum.

"Take it please. William was right, you just need to sleep right now."

"You’re covered in blood, Buffy, he said raising his head."

"So are you."

"You were before, that night you first came to us. Give it ‘ere."

He’d tried it once or twice, more out of curiosity than need and never enough to have any real effect on him. As he unstoppered it and took a deep swig, he had no idea how much he’d need to knock him out the way he wanted to be. She made the decision for him, taking the bottle from his hand and putting it on a side table. Then her fingers were working on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them and slipping it over his shoulders. She took off his boots as he sat dumbly watching her work, wondering how long it would take for the laudanum to have an effect. Wondering at the way fate had answered his prayer.

"Always prayed for a woman who’do this to me." He had to laugh, a little groggily now as she pushed him back against the pillows. Saw her give a small smile too.

He was aware of her moving away and returning, then something cool wiping at his head where Ethan had hit him.

"Lie, back and go to sleep, let William sort it. There’s nothing else for you to do Alex."

As he started to drift off he heard himself asking her if she’d stay with him for a while, felt the bed shift as she wriggled beside him, pulling his head onto her shoulder.

"What did you do, Buffy? When you first came ‘ere, you were covered in blood."

"Caleb attacked me. I pushed him and I thought I’d killed him. I understand what you’re going through, Alex."

"You’re going back to ‘im because of Dawn, aren’t you?" It was coming over him in waves now. Blissful oblivion. But he had to stop her. He couldn’t go to sleep now.

"Yes, I am Alex. I have no choice." She was stroking him again, helping him on his way as he struggled against the darkness, and he felt her lips on his cheek as she kissed him goodbye. "I can’t leave Dawn to him, I have to save her from Caleb. please tell William how sorry I am. I’ll never forget you both, or what you did for me."

Her last words sounded very far away, and he knew that she wasn’t going to be there when he woke up. He made one last attempt to hold on to her but her fingers slipped through his and right then, he knew nothing more.

--------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth found William leaning against the wall outside Alex’s room. He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with her fingers on his lips, taking his hand and pulling him towards his room.

"Don’t say anything, William. Just make love to me, please."

And he followed her, and removed the bloodstained dress from her, and their lovemaking was like nothing she’d experienced yet. Unbearably sweet with not a word spoken until they were both lying in the blissful aftermath.

And then he turned to her and asked, "Is it mended?"

And she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, the answer she so desperately wanted to give. Instead, she kissed him on the shoulder and silently left the bed, wrapping the sheet around her and turning away from his disappointed face.

Crumbled hopes and shattered dreams. That would be the legacy of this strange interlude in her life. And something else, she thought as she made her way tearfully back to her room. Memories. Some good, some bad. But mostly good, and they would sustain her in what was to come.

She needed to find her dress, the one she’d arrived in and tonight she’d be gone, and this place would be just a memory. She just hoped she’d be able to hold on to it and that it wouldn’t fade too quickly. Dawn needed her more than William. He’d survive this, but she wouldn’t.

This had to be the right thing.

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