Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the almighty Joss does. We all bow before him.

Author's Comments: Love feedback, and yes, I know these stories have been overdone, but here's my version. Spoilers for Season Seven.

Had he told her he loved her?

"No, no, don't hurt the girl. Hurt the girl, bad, bad."

He'd wanted to kill her, always had, dreamed about it, and prayed about it. Craved it like he craved blood. Her blood, wanted to bathe in it.

"No, no, no."

He'd told her from the beginning he'd kill her. He was a monster, he'd never tried to believe he could be anything else, because he knew what he was, he accepted, like a good boy.

"Make it stop, Mum, please, Mum."

He'd tortured her, watched his sire torture her, and delighted in it, no regrets then. Never wanted to help her, didn't give a damn about her. No, it was Dru he loved, her and her damn insanity. Insanity. Was insanity contagious?

He chuckled coldly, then looked around and whimpered. No, no, no laughing, they'd come back, they'd force it on him again, but he already knew, knew he was bad, knew he had to hide. No ticket for him, no pass, no permission.

No permission, he was a monster, not a man, never a man. No. He hadn't wanted to love her. He'd fought it, hadn't he? He couldn't remember. He must have. A monster like him could never love, especially not HER. Not her, not the girl. Hurt the girl, make amends, don't make amends, can't make amends. Amends are not the answer. Silence was the answer, craved it, like he craved blood, craved her. No, not her, don't think of her, mustn't think of her, not worthy of her, beneath her.

Never love the enemy, but he had to, he'd explained to himself once, he thought, remembering what his sire had said, the poof. Have to love her to kill her. No, not killing, he was a monster, but never hurt the girl, never, ever.

He'd lost her once, tried to tell her though, just before, had looked her in the eyes even, once he gained the courage, told her what he knew. That he was a monster, that she'd never love him. But he forgot to tell her he loved her, had she known? Not an obsession, not anymore. Bad, bad William, should always tell the girl, like in the movies, then no one really dies. And she hadn't, she'd come back, to him, to them, though, not to him. He wasn't real to her, just flesh, just a service, she didn't even like him. No. never could even like him, he was a monster. He loved her though, he didn't understand. He loved her, and she came to him, she needed him, but she didn't, couldn't, wouldn't, didn'tcouldn'twouldn't LOVE HIM!!!!!!

He just wanted her to love him, to understand, to feel it too. No, bad, bad, he hurt the girl, BAD!

Tried to make it right, wanted her to get what she deserved, tried to be better for her. But she didn't understand, wouldn't, couldn't, never...

Bad William, bloody awful poetry, always sniveling, never with a backbone, IT'S THE CANE FOR YOU BOY!!!!

He rolled onto his back, moaning and clutching his head. "Stop, stop, shut up!" He yelled. Above him he heard a chair scrape on the floor, felt the cane coming for him. "Stop it! Stop hurting me! I'm trying, can't you see?!" he shook his head, and stalked over to stare at the wall, the only way to make them quiet.

He was a bad man, not a man, a monster, not a monster, didn't want to be a monster anymore. Wanted peace, wanted to rest, wanted to be loved. Wanted her, craved her like he craved blood.


He didn't look away from the wall, couldn'twouldn't, no. Had to keep them quiet. But. It was her, it was HER! He could smell her, his every sense filled with her as she approached. She needed his help, needed to know about the evil. There was evil inside him. But not love, never love. Love led to hurt. Never hurt the girl.

He asked her to stay, to help him keep the voices quiet. She was almost sorry, he could feel it. And she was right, the voices were worse when she was near. But they weren't the ones he feared. No, the voices that whispered when she neared him were different, hopeful. Hopeful that some day she would stay with him, not love, though, because she couldn't love him, no, that was bad. Bad, bad, hurt the girl.

He was trying, he really was. Now she was gone, always gone, and he was always alone. Yes, yes, that was good, no hurting that way. He stopped, and wondered for a moment if he'd told her he loved her.

No, no, bad, but it felt right, and it was right, it was right, for him to love her.. Had he said it, had he?

THE CANE, BOY!!! He whimpered and backed away, ignoring the wall behind him that wouldn't let him go any further. "Not the cane, sir, not the cane. I'll be a good boy, I will."

No, he must have forgotten to mention it.