440 - Curmudgeon - Shanshu - Dragon's Phoenix - BtVS

[dragonyphoenix.livejournal.com]

Title: Saturday in the Park
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 440 - Curmudgeon
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 9 of Shanshu
Word Count: 805

If she hadn't been an atheist, Millay would have been thanking someone that Will was such a Luddite. Otherwise he'd have thought to drop the tech as he'd run off. It had let her listen in, but it also let her track him to this park. No, Will would never call this a park. In fact, he'd ranted on for hours, more than once, on how a few plants surrounded by concrete did not, as he put it, a park make. She stopped at the far edge of the space, where the street gave way to concrete, flipped her skateboard up to her hand, and watched him. He'd stretched himself out along the edge of a fountain. There was no water, not this early in the morning. He turned his head away as she walked up. She sat down and rested one hand near his shoulder, close but not touching. “I could mess with Harris' finances. Sell him 200,000 shares in a spoo ranch.”

“You should go. 'M not safe.”

Shit. He'd believed the bastard. Of course he had, Will was always too sensitive to the opinions of others. She figured it was the amnesia. Lacking a past, he looked to others to tell him who he was. “That's bullshit, Will. You, a rapist? No way. No way.”

He sat up but looked like he was about to bolt. She tightened her grip on his hand. “He's lying,” she added.

“He wouldn't lie.”

“How would you know …” She almost dropped his hand. “You remember him?”

Will jerked as if she'd struck him. His breathing was heavy and Millay waited for him to speak. “No way for him to know about the amnesia.”

Oh, good point. “I still don't believe it. I know you, Will. You're no rapist.”

“You know me now. Didn't know me then.”

Millay could feel herself trying to will her belief in him through their joined hands, which was ridiculous. Speech was convincing; good vibes were nothing more than balderdash. “Personalities don't change with memory loss. Look at Alzheimer's patients. The ones who were nice before, stay nice. The ones who were curmudgeons, stay nasty.”

“Doesn't matter. I did it. I hurt the girl.”

“I don't believe it. You're the gentlest man I know.”

His laughter was dark, bitter. “Yeah, well, things change.”

I hurt the girl? This wasn't just what Harris had told him. “You do remember. What? What do you remember?” He sat there, staring at nothing, not speaking. She yanked at his hand. “Tell me.”

“I can see her.” His words were quiet, trance-like. She figured it might be the only way he could share whatever he was seeing. Millay sat perfectly still, listening but not speaking, waiting for him to go on. “That Buffy he spoke of. She's young. Little more than a kid. There's a bottle. It's in my hand. I'm waving the broken glass, jagged, sharp, it's right in her face.”

“You cut her?”

The spell between them broke. She could see Will pulling into himself. “I don't see that. The bottle's going toward her face, but I don't see blood. Harris was there too, laid out on a table or something. Looked dead.”

“Do you remember raping her?”

Will shook his head. “No, just those two bits: me jabbing the broken glass in her face and seeing Harris stretched out.”

“You didn't rape her.”

“How do you know?”

“Harris said tried to.”

“Yeah, 'cause that's so much better.”

“Will, whatever you're seeing, that isn't you. The memory plays tricks. It doesn't record what happened. It's a mix, an image from here, another from there, some real, some imagined. You can't trust a few random images.”

“If I can't trust my own mind, what can I trust? Scratch that. I've never been able to trust my own mind. Don't recall anything from more than six years ago. Maybe now I know why. Maybe I don't want to remember.” He stood and yanked his hand out of hers.

“Will.”

“I need some space Millay.”

“Where will you go?”

He shrugged. “Don't know.”

She stood. “Not good enough.”

“Millay …”

“I don't want you alone. You don't have to stick with me, but you have to be with someone.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “What about Ash? She can give me one of those knockout pills of hers.”

“And after?”

“I've got work. Even rapists need to pay bills.”

“Will, you're not a …”

“Drop it, Millay.”

She thought about the tracker he was carrying. Not good enough. If he thought about how she'd found him, he'd dump the tech. “Okay, but I'm escorting you to Ash's.” He started to object. “No arguing.”

Will turned and started walking. “Let's go then.”

As they left the park behind them, Millay heard the fountain start up. She didn't turn to look.