It was so instinctual, the way that his lips parted to bare those sharpened canines to what his body instantly perceived as a threat. It was so particularly rare that Sebastian faced any true peril - the other supernatural species were rarely of any risk to him and the hunters? Well, they often left him alone, the pleasure inducing vampire so rarely fell upon their radar that this was altogether an atypical moment. Still, that intuition was but fleeting not by the silver dagger at his throat burning his flesh, but the simple face of the man who held it. That face had been such a large part of his life within those precious years that Sebastian had spent alive upon the cobbled streets of London - forgetting it, forgetting William was entirely impossible for him. The man's features had be stained into his memory with blood, perhaps as much as that look upon Anna-Marie's features when she'd so hungrily took their lives from them or John when he too began to realize that his marriage was never going to occur. Everything about that night could be recalled with such painful clarity for the vampire that he, more often not, simply refused to dwell upon it. Now, however, with William's face staring back at him, the vampire became entirely lost within that London alleyway all over again.

His fingertips slowly reached out to the man, entirely oblivious in that moment to the way the silver knife pressed further into his flesh. He cared not for the way his skin began to turn red as the tip threatened to plunge into his skin. All that mattered in those few moments was that face staring back at him. After a moment of marked hesitation, Sebastian's fingertips touched the flesh of Will's cheek, his fingers nearly caressing it with a sense of affection. That moment was but a precarious second in time as Sebastian's crystalline eyes so intently stared into the chocolate ones of his companion with William's name uttered so softly in blatant disbelief upon his lips. That moment, however, shattered perhaps as quickly as it had come as the Dark Hunter pulled ever so abruptly away from him. That abrupt reaction, along with that notable clank as that dagger clattered upon the ground beneath him brought the stunned vampire back to reality, his bright blue eyes blinking suddenly as he tried to regain his bearings. He was not in London anymore. He was not 26 anymore. He was not alive anymore.

Sebastian glanced up as those very same words fell from his companion's lips, his own lips pressed together ever so slightly at the reminder of this simple fact. "Yes, I suppose I am." He muttered simply as way of response, his own fingertips rising to his neck as that throbbing pain flooded his system now that the shock had momentarily been distilled. He was, at least for the time being, still entirely suspicious of the man across from him, the man whom he knew couldn't possibly be his William. After all, he was entirely assured that his friend had been dead when he had awoken, terrified of that hunger that had settled in his stomach - hunger that had coaxed him to do that which he had never done before: kill. Gingerly he massaged that area, his lips twisting into a small frown as his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, "Did you just try to kill me?" He inquired, entirely astonished. No, this definitely was not his William. Of that he was entirely assured, William would never have..no, he never had hurt Sebatian. William was dead.

The vampire's attention refocused upon the hunter on the other side of the alleyway, the man's brown eyes staring intently at the concrete as his voice seemed to crack with emotion and yet, Sebastian himself refused to believe this. "No, you didn't." He stated matter of factly, "My William was dead when I awoke. I don't know who you think you are but you are not him. I don't know what you're trying to achieve with this trick of yours, hunter, but it isn't going to work." This, he was assured, was a new low for their kind, to so prey upon his emotions for his past before he was turned. And yet, the vampire was still acute enough to not get lost to this fantasy. Not anymore. Whoever this man was intended to kill him and Sebastian was not ready to die yet. The vampire so effortlessly called to his own affinity and all too delightfully did those red ribbons answer his call, a thick, crimson string blossoming to life within his hand, falling in waves down to the cement beneath him. During that long flight with Anna Marie, he had become vastly more accustomed to his new affinity, trusting in it's unbreakable make up to ensure his safety against whatever opposition he was about to face - and yet, despite his notable disbelief, Sebastian remained ever the pacifist, or perhaps the lover, the vampire refusing to strike unless he himself was attacked.