Liliaeth (liliaeth) wrote,

Drabble ficlet: The journey of young William

Crossposted to open_on_sunday

Blame spikes_heart for this one*g*

Just a series of drabbles that form a fic together

Title: The journey of young William
Author: Lore
Rating: PG15 slash
Summary: Duncan MacLeod finds a young bleached blond new immortal in a ravaged alley in LA
Pairing: Duncan MacLeod/Spike
Note: HL/Angel

William woke up alone in a paved alley, he woke up screaming for something anything. He was alone, lost, without name. So there he was our William boy, searching, on a quest for answers, running smack into them, again, even if he didn't know it.

William stared up at his saviour, holding his head in suffering for a pain of which he didn't know the origin.
The man held out his hand, forcing him to look in his eyes.
Dark eyes that could lead a man to destiny, to his tomorrow.
The pain ended.

"Who the bloody fuck are you?"

Duncan managed to drag the scared man with him to his dojo. There was screaming and fear but he knew he had no choice. The boy was new, clearly, he'd just died, probably, the trauma wiping out his memory as he was left behind in a clutter of chaos and death.

His eyes soaked in tears by the time Duncan finally got him to sit down. Tears drenching Duncan's shoulder as he led the boy lose it all. Tears that moved to kisses, to soft gentle lingering touches. Until they both lay in the comfort of his bed. Finally quiet.

Richie found them He softly closed the door. Later as he faced up to the white haired man that had been in Duncan's bed, Richie apologized, William smiled shyly.
Duncan found them sipping chocolate milk together. He signed in relief at the comfort between the two.

Richie threw him a cup, he filled it up. Glad to share this journey with his student.
He knew he couldn't be the guide on William's journey.
It saddened him, but he knew it was right.
He hugged William, considering who was best to train this smartass brat.
He could only think of one.

Joe stared at the kid with unease. He recognized that face, the hair, the eyes, the coat. It triggered his memory in a way that not many things did. He tried to look away as Richie got up to get a coke before returning next to them.

It didn't even take him long to find the bastard.
William Atterton, not a headhunter. It's never that easy.
No this one was worse.
A killer, rapist, thief, murderer a hundred times over.

Joe didn't care that the man had no memories, if that were even true.
He wouldn’t let Duncan be destroyed.

William flinched when Mac threw the files down in front of them. He grew pale just looking at the pictures, reading, discovering. Finding out what a monster he'd been?
Was it luck that kept him from remembering? Giving him a new chance, a new memory?
Would Duncan let him stay?

He started crying before he hit the fifth page, unable to read further by the sixth.
What kind of man was he, what kind of monster.
Duncan held him, telling him it was ok. But it wasn't.
He had no right not to remember his victims
So he read on.

Amanda was startled when she met the man that Duncan wanted her to teach. She'd expected a wiry pain in the ass that would talk back and annoy the hell out of her. She hadn't expected him to be a pain in the neck, of the literal kind whom she'd first met over fifty years ago.
She nearly ran when she first saw him, she definitely started looking for the exits.

She was almost even more shocked to realize he was immortal, and not the undead variety. Touching his pale wiry hand with utter trepidation. His hand was warm.

When Buffy saw the two together, right before Fitz introduced them, she could barely believe her eyes.
She kept silent.

William, student of Amanda, lover of Duncan MacLeod, formerly known as William the Bloody, a life he didn't even remember. Fitz didn't seem to care, Angel wasn't there, so he didn't even consider him twice.

She wondered if he ever dreamt of her anymore?
If he ever woke up in the middle of the night, saying her name, like she did his.
Was he happier now than he'd been with her? He probably was.

She didn't cry till they left.

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