William Holloway

I'm a devil in disguise

It was all that William could do to keep himself rooted into the place that Charles had told him to wait. That instant that he so heard the voice of his best friend so seemed to make all of his muscles constrict. How he needed the man and the comfort that only seeing Sebastian might allow him. How often he had thought about their reunion and what that might look like for them. He'd expected it to be within that dirty, horrible prison and not here at the estate he'd so called home. William's attuned sense of hearing caught on to the sound of his name on Sebastian's lips, and he supposed he could hardly blame the surprise that the man so felt at his return. Honestly, William had thought that he would never leave that cell. And his own immortality only made that thought so much worse. "As soon as you can control it, you'll join the Council and be free, William." It was that mantra that they told him nearly ever damn day as they forced him into using those blades. He would certainly never obtain any real control over that power of his, and as a result, they were never going to let him go.

He was urged from those particularly dark thoughts by the manservant so urgently ushered him into the office. The sight of his best friend urged the Hunter to a standstill. Truly, William had hardly expected that Sebastian would be alive and so healthy. How stupid he had been to believe them without any proof, and yet he would have done the same thing all over again. He had lost Sebastian once. He had felt his best friend die in that alleyway in London. He had already felt what it felt like to lose Sebastian once. That event, nearly two hundred years ago, had shattered William so completely that he thought he might never recover. Those eleven deaths in Whitechapel, though he hated to think of it that way, had been entirely due to his grief. But those eleven people had lost their lives due to The very idea of losing him again would be something that would most certainly destroy him. Sebastian looked every bit the man that he had been the last time they had seen each other. Dignified, put together, healthy. But it was Sebastian's question of whether or not he was okay that had William so sinking into that chair.

William was most certainly not okay. Months and months - how long had it been? - of captivity and using his power held his body and mind in such a fragile state that he might just crack. When he'd first learned to use his power at the hands of his master so many years ago, it would often be days before he would come completely out of that delirium. He would lose countless hours to his own brain even after he had ended the use of his powers. Now, after countless days of repetitive use of that power, he existed on the brink of mania always. It took less time for William to be aware, and yet it resulted in an ever-present tremor and anxiety for the Duke. William dropped himself into that leather chair, his head dropping into those trembling hands. His words came out in broken, manic phrases, prompting his companion to probe a further explanation. And who could blame him?

William had never elaborated on why he was running from those Hunters. He had never admitted to Sebastian the extent of the horrors he had caused. The Duke so often hated himself for the damage he had done in those three years in Whitechapel. How often did he travel and hear something about the infamous Jack the Ripper and feel that ache of horror. William could not handle it to see that same horror - or worse, pity - upon his best friend's features. And yet, what William didn't consider, was the horrors that Sebastian had so likely himself caused. But it was that consideration that the Earl might have thought that he had broken his promise that forced William to his feet, attempting to reassure him that he had done no such thing. He had meant it when he said that he would stay at the Earl's side, and how quickly that promise had been broken, no matter if it had been willingly or not.

William didn't mean to flinch as the vampire stepped forward. It had been so long since he'd had any real touch. At least any touch that didn't result in pain. But Sebastian's skin was cool and gentle to the touch. Instinctively, William's fingers curled around Sebastian's. That touch seeming to clear William's frazzled mind just slightly. The Earl was his grounding point through all the mania, and that bit of sanity was something he was so desperate to cling to. William's own eyes flicked up to meet Sebastian's as he spoke, the Duke's head bobbing as he agreed. He was back. "It's not fine," The man said quietly. "B... but I am back. I hope?" Those last two words held so many of his unspoken questions. Would he be back? Would he be safe here? Would Sebastian be safe here? Would Sebastian forgive him for leaving in the first place? But Sebastian continued to reassure him, promising that everything would be okay the same way he always had. William couldn't help but think of one of the first times the Earl had reassured him this way. After the young Duke had punched him after learning that he was marrying Georgiana. Even after being injured by his hands, Sebastian had been the one to apologize and reassure him. He'd always taken care of him, always been there when William needed him.

William's eyes fluttered down to his wrist as Sebastian raised that arm up. Only then did he seem to notice the state of his body. Bloody hell, he was trembling. His nails were caked with dirt and bitten ragged, and his skin was pale and dry. And the blood. He couldn't even be sure if the blood was his or not, so vague was his memory of what had happened at that compound. William's jaw twitched into the faintest idea of a simper at the mention that he was somehow distracting. "I'd offer you my blood, like the first time," William commented, that teasing lilt to his voice sounding ever exhausted. "But I think I'd pass out." It was so small, but some sort of offering that the William Sebastian loved was still in there. "A hot shower would be nice," The Duke said gently, looking down at himself for the first time. "Some fresh clothes, perhaps? These don't... they don't seem to fit me anymore."

It was the latter part of the Earl's offer that had William's head snapping up, a worried look upon his pale features. Like always, Sebastian wanted to take care of this. And yet that was the one thing William thought could never happen. "You don't understand," The Duke said gravely. "This will never end. They won't... stop... until I can control my power. That isn't going to happen. I..." William pressed his eyes closed, taking several deep, steading breaths before he finally opened those eyes and regarded him solemnly. "A shower... would be nice." If he was going to explain to Sebastian what had happened, he could at least do it not covered in blood, right? "And then we'll talk about everything."