"Jacob, get some help! She's asleep! Hurry!" Eric shouted to his brother as he carried his cousin's lifeless body to the couch.

Her lips were starting to lose color. Strayed and fading. He couldn't understand what had happened. He left a mere 10 minutes and found her passed out on the carpet without a plausible answer. Tears were stinging his sight as he sat, staring... waiting for him to come.

Why would she just up and do this? Confused. Everything was fine. She was happy. Least that remained the case all the while. It's all his fault. He should have NEVER left the house period. Something didn't seem right in the last 5 days. She seemed to herself a lot of the time. She was unhappy. If only he could've asked her what was wrong. God if only... Now she's slowly leaving him.

"Why? Why her? She's a good person. Nobody deserved to die. Not her. Don't take her. Take me. Take me for being the selfish asshole I am. FUCK!" he hugged her body close, crying heavily as he heard Jacob come with the paramedics and a stretcher bed. He picked her up, kissed her gently on her forehead, placing her on top of the portable bed. More tears came down his scared face, "Please GOD let her be OK! Do whatever you can. Bring her back! She CAN'T leave now!"

Eric was frantic now and his body was shaking. Spewing out demands like a mad man. He felt like dying now. Someone should just kill him. The pain was too much. Too real. Too FUCKING real. All of it was a blur now. She could actually be taken away from this Earth any moment. He felt weak beyond all feeling. Death was giggling it's hunger not too far away. There was nothing he could do but wait. Wait for her to die or live. There may never be another like her. Buffy Summers may never smile her smile that makes you live to catch a small glimpse.

---

The doctors pumped Buffy's stomach of the pills she'd consumed voluntarily. Afterwards, she was so weak they put her in the intensive care unit. Still laying in a deep sated coma. Still alive and breathing. Her parents fight to stay awake. Their only daughter is making no progress. There was really nothing they could do. More waiting. They need some answers. She's hanging on by so little.

Buffy's Dad came toward his wife, "Joyce, she's a survivor. She's going to pull through. Be strong," he placed his hand on her shoulder.

Joyce was stung as he did this. Her shoulder was shaking and she didn't know what was going to happen. Her eyes were glassy and she wiped at her eyes, unmoving and not believe the reality of the situation. Her daughter was always such a challenge but still she felt compassion.

Joyce held his hand, crying, "I just don't understand! Willow said every was fine. Now, it's really not! My baby is dying. She's DYING!"

"It'll be OK. She'll come back. Give it time, sweetie."

She pushed him away, "She doesn't have much time. She needs to come back now! Right now. She doesn't deserve this. This is all my fault. All of it. We shouldn't have left her alone."

"It's not your fault. We can't take back what happened but we have to be strong. For Buffy. She needs us not to be upset. Pray for a miracle."

She sighed as she calmed herself, and sat down, "She needs more than miracle. More than love. It's much bigger. She needs a will to brake though."

He nodded, patting her back as he stood up, "Come on, let's get some coffee." They walked over to the machine.

---

A long week has passed, Buffy still hasn't woken up. Family members would come, held her hand, and talk to her. Hoping she would make some kind of movement. But nothing. It was all a gambit. Nothing has changed. If anything, she's getting worse. Her heart monitor was dangerously low which made the doctors questioned in taking off life support. There was no other option it seemed. Joyce was appalled and wide eyed at the idea. She shook her head sharply.

"No, out of the question. She still has a chance. I won't allow you to make dying easier for her. She still has a chance. I believe it."

Dr. Andrews sighed as he sat in his office, "Joyce, I realize what your going through, there is absolutely nothing we can do but pray that she breathes on her own."

Joyce stood up, hearing enough, "No, I know she will improve. I won't let you do this!"

Dr. Andrews stood up and walked to her, "I can't imagine what you're thinking. Believe me, I don't want to do this. There is really nothing left for us to do but pray she breathes without our help. I have faith in her. I won't let her die. I promise you. Your husband has already agreed to sign the papers but he wanted to leave this decision up to you."

She looked at him with glassy eyes, "He's already agreed to this? Why? Does he want his daughter to die? I can't handle this now...excuse me," she exited his office and fled to the bathroom.

Joyce left the bathroom somewhat calm and walked over to her husband as she made her decision, "I think we should do this. I have faith in her. There's nothing more they can do. Still, I'm praying she doesn't need their help."

He turned to face her, "Sweetie are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Please don't talk it about it anymore. Where are the papers?"

He held them from the front desk the whole time and handed her a paper to sign, "I already signed. I'll be waiting in the doctor's office," he kissed her cheek and left.

After Joyce finished the signing the places where she needed to sign, she made her way to the office. Everyone went to Buffy's room silently. They knew the risks, and the effects of the procedure. Joyce turned her head as the doctor put his hand on Buffy's IV plug. Dr. Andrews took a deep breathe and pulled-

"Dr. Andrews this is an emergency! We need you in the ER room 16!" a nurse yelled from the doorway.

"Pardon me, I'm so sorry." He looked at her parents and ran over to the nurse, asking her questions as he followed to the room, "What do we know?"

The nurse looked at her clipboard, "Male, 27, deep sated abrasions on the wrists. He appears unconscious at the moment."

Doctor Andrews took the clipboard from the Nurse's hands.

"Alright... Please inform Dr. Carringan to perform the procedure while I'm gone," he told her as he opened the door.

"Right away, doctor" she walked off to the room.

When she reached it she gave a light knock before opening the door to see smiles from ear to ear on both parents faces, "What's going on?"

Joyce tried to control the happiness but she couldn't, "She spoke! She came back!"

The nurse looked in the direction of the patient and smiled as she saw the father with tears in his eyes, speaking softly with his daughter, Buffy barely speaking back, just groaning mumbled responds. "Well, I'll be. This is beyond a miracle I tell ya. Room 16 may have saved her life."

Buffy sat up a little, slowly regaining movements that she'd misplaced in the week. She felt so...alive suddenly. Like someone breathed in what was missing. Not just life... something else. Inexplicable. She was barely paying any attention to her talkative father. The one who did this to her. Along with the witch who gave birth to her boasting with the nurse for her sudden arrival. Seeing her so happy was sickening. Where the FUCK was that happiness before when she wasn't covered with death row? They both had the nerve to come and care for her. They might as well let her die. She wanted to die so bad. She had no life left. Clutched with the avid animosity she felt in her veins she had also felt saved in some way. Even though her heart was set on ending this life, she felt like she was given a will. It was a face. She couldn't see who it was, but something or was it someone told her to live. It felt amazing to hear those words and the voice who said them. That voice will stay with her forever.

She shook her head and lied back down. "I want to rest for a while. Can you leave please?" They did help bring her into this world, it was least she could do.

Buffy's father nodded, "Alright. We'll be right outside if you need us. Bye sweetie," he kissed her forehead and so did Joyce as they closed the door.

Buffy suddenly really had to pee. Only her luck would have it that the bathroom in her room is locked. "Dammit! I really have to go!" she got up and took the oxygen plug from her nose and the rest of the plugs from her body as she barely got up.

She made her way slowly to visible wheel chair and pushed herself out of her room. She wheeled downward, it was hard but she had to do it. Than, she heard something. No, wasn't the nurses. It wasn't the doctors. And she heard the number 16.

"What the fuck? This isn't Field Of Dreams and I ain't schizo." she finally reached the unisex restroom to the right and wheeled toward it.

She came out feeling a million times better. She was finding the pushing of the wheelchair much easier now. All of a sudden, it ended. Ended?! Wait, she didn't stop it. Hold up. She turned her head and read the number 16 on the door. This is weird. Why did it stop here? She felt compelled to this room. The door was left a smidge open so she looked around and entered slowly.

She neared the bed and stared at the person laying on it. She shook her head slightly. "Who are you?"

The person looked a bit older than her. Say 27? He looked tired. Dried. Drained. So lost and blue. It was the color of his lips. His face had lost color. His filled out pout, a lavender pinkish shade. He was breathing slowly, calmly. It almost scared Buffy. She wasn't sure what to think. For some reason, she had will to live. It wasn't her will, it was another's. What did this person have to do with that?

On a finger, there was a ring. A ring given to her by her best friend years ago who had passed away. A voice, so placid said, take it off. And she did. Her now movements were controlled by some spirit lurking somewhere. She took his hand and placed her green jeweled ring in his palm, closing it so gracefully.

She licked her lips still holding his hand, wondering why she was doing any of this. This wasn't her. Human contact was out of the question until Jeannie left her alone. Her face suddenly twitched as she moved over his face.

"Whoever you are, you must be someone amazing. I hope you can hear me. I hope you wake up too," she smiled a little as she kissed his cheek.

Over and over this other voice is saying, why are you doing this? Why are you kissing strangers? The other would just say, sometimes life can't be about you. Maybe there's an angel in all of us if we try to see that. Maybe it can happen.

She felt abrupt movement from the hand. Her eyes stared down as she removed her hand and wheeled out of there as fast as she could but not without hearing, "Who are you?"

She left quickly before he had a chance to say anymore. Man, his voice freaked her out even more. He couldn't be. Not the same one.

"Why did I give him my ring? Whoever he is, he has it now." she whispered.

---

Buffy waited until the doctors came back to sign out. Joyce was in her surgeon's office discussing her status. She just wanted to get out of there. She finally could walk now and she was happy as ever to get that back. She glanced at her finger and noticed her ring was gone. Still gone. Whoever he was, he had it. She couldn't breathe without that ring. She promised to never take it off, but she did to a total stranger. Yet... was he? His face looked awfully uncanny, like the one in her dream. The man that saved her. She felt with all her heart he was in some way part of it.

She needed to go to the bathroom badly now. She stood up and nearly ran to the bathroom. After she finished and washed her hands she walked to her room. Right next to hers was #16. The door was halfway open and she looked around if anyone was watching. She placed her hand on the handle...

"What are you doing?" she heard a stern voice behind her and froze.

She gulped and turned around to see a women, mid-40s, long blond hair, "Uh, I'm-I'm sorry, I'll go."

The woman came in her path, "Wait a sec, are you here to see Will?"

"Huh?" she raised an eyebrow.

"My son? William, listen I know him better than this. I can't believe he would do this. He's such a good person. I mean, anyway... what's your name sweetie?"

"Buffy," she said softly.

"Would you like to see him? He needs people around him in these times."

"Um, yeah I-I guess," she followed the woman to the door as she opened it all the way.

Buffy looked at the bed which a held the same sleeping body. He was looking much better than last time. Color returned to his lips and the lines around his face had softened. But he still looked ill. Buffy was cautious.

The woman came over to her reposed son and gently touched on his shoulder. He slowly opened his blue orbs and lazily smiled at his mother. Buffy figured this was as good a time as any to bolt and do it now. She gulped silently and turned her body back toward the door. Her hand on the handle she was almost there.

"Buffy, honey, come here," she heard before anything happen.

She was stuck. Damn her brain working so slowly. She shut her eyes in tenseness and slowly turned around. She met the man's eyes and couldn't move. His eyes were imperious it seemed. She felt her hand being led over to the man. His eyes never blinking once. Hers haven't moved under his Dracula-like trance. She almost shrunk back in fear.

He suddenly licked his lips and cleared his throat with a blink, "You..."

She swallowed in a strangled manner. "Um..."

His eyes squinted, “I saw you in my--o,” He grabbed his stomach in pain.

Buffy’s eyes clouded with worry. She feels like she caused this. How? She doesn’t know him. She gulped strangely.

She watched his mother rub his shoulder gently. He was still weak. His arms bore scares visible and bright to anyone. Almost as if he purposely made them be seen. His face and skin were deathly white as she wondered more about what happened to him.

His mother than looked in her direction. She stepped back. The look she was giving Buffy was the same one she remembered her own mother giving her when she woke up. Only, this look held a more heartfelt gaze.

Buffy’s heart broke with this woman’s. She can’t imagine the pain going through her mind, but oddly, she feels it.

His mother made her way to Buffy slowly taking a hold of her hands, “I’ll be right back. I just can’t be in this room too long. Thank you for understanding.”

Buffy nodded sincerely, “Of course.”

She almost felt as if she might cry on the spot as she dropped her hands and made her way out the door. When the door was shut, Buffy looked down at her feet. Shivering as the ill silence surrounded them.

She heard rustling and looked at the man in the bed. His eyes piercing her, strangely, she was intrigued. She spoke softly, “Are you OK?”

The man winced as he took his time sitting up in bed, “I am. Who are you?”

“Buffy.” She said, simply.

He looked down than up, fixing his focus on the girl. There was more to know. He wanted to know more than just her name.

“Is that really your name?”

She scoffed inwardly, “Uh, yeah. I didn't pick it, my mother gave it to me. Just FYI.”

He tried to laugh and winced slightly in the process, “Interesting.”

She felt really uncomfortable now. “What is?”

He smirked, “The way you put the answer. It was sort of one of those yes or nos.”

She was a little confused, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I guess.”

He started laughing again, this time coughing. She came a little closer to him suddenly, “Are you alright, do you want some water?”

She was really close now and it was distracting him. She noticed this and kept her distance from before. He cleared his throat and looked at her, “No, I actually have too much here already. My family likes to make sure I have everything, in the two-packs.”

She nodded, “Oh, OK… Well, I--”

He was looking at her seriously now. That was a little outlandish. He felt like she was about to say something really personal. But than again, she knows about what happened to him. God knows how she met his mother. He just let it alone. Last thing he wanted to do was pry into a stranger’s personal issues.

She cleared her throat gently, “I was just going to say that I wouldn’t know what that feels like.”

He hadn’t expected her to say that. There was that weird silence rising up again. She didn’t know what to do. The florescent lights caught a glimpse of the pinkness that paled from her cheeks. She was getting flustered. She dared to look at him. His forehead appeared crinkled with lines. His breath was strange. It seemed if it had sped up faster by the second. Something plagued him suddenly, “How do you know my mom?”

She took a deep breath and sat down on the visitor’s chair. “I really don’t. I just met her actually.”

Would explain the uneasiness she portrayed. But than again, in light of the current situation, she could just be uneasy about what had happened. He was confused but it made sense still.

“I see.” He eyed her. She was looking down in thought. It bothered him how quiet and uno-sentenced she is.

He observed a smile forming. Made some light come through the dark impenetrable room. “Guess I’m making things more awkward for you. I don’t know what made me come here, but somehow I was just pulled to.”

This is something new. Where did this come from? More importantly, why was it making sense to him? He felt it too, suddenly. This strong magnetic pull. Out of nowhere. The strangest thing. It seems like a second chance is being given and he wasn’t the only one.

He looked at her with a slight tilt of his head. “Really? Strange thing is, in fact, a lot of strange things have happened this past week.”

Buffy raised her hand as if she were in class. “Amen. A lot of things have been unexplainable. I feel like praying or something but than I remembered I’m a reformed atheist.”

The corners of William's mouth turned upward. “Good to know. I think a lot of times I wish I didn’t have to force myself to believe in something that seems ridiculous.”

Buffy starts fiddling with the bottom hem of her sweater, “My family was kind of too invested into organized religion. Personally, I think it’s a neurological disorder. That’s probably the reason why I did what I did.”

His eyes squinted, “What was that?”

She braced herself and took in a deep breathe, as long as they’re in the personal zone, “It was wild. At first it didn’t hurt. Made more sense than anything I’ve done. All I wanted to do was stop it. I couldn’t breathe and when I reached my breaking point, it was easier than I thought. It made me feel alive.”

She stopped when she realized how silent it was. She pursed her lips and looked up at him. He was wide awake with that same look displayed. Maybe she shouldn’t say too much.

She laughed nervously, “Yeah, well, I should get going. I mean, this… I don’t know what this is but I should really go.”

She waited. She watched Josh’s eyebrows raise up. Somethings not right. She watched his mouth as he spoke, “Are you uncomfortable?”

She gave it some thought but didn’t need it. “Somewhat, I am.”

"OK, are you leaving?”

“Leaving?”

“Are you leaving the hospital?”

She nodded slowly, “I should be…”

He suddenly held her hand. Not in a brisk way but in a genial manner. Like a friend. “Why? You don’t have to. I feel like you know what I’m going through more than anyone else.”

As in dueling suicides, yeah they had something massive in common. She felt him take a firmer grasp, felt like a silent promise. What? She pursued the question mentally.

“Why do you think that?”

“Just the way you talked about what went wrong.”

She backed away from his grip sternly, “No, I really should go…” she started to stutter now.

He laughed softly, it was music to William’s ears. “Alright, well, it was fun having you here; even though I’m not sure exactly how you got here.”

She managed to smile a little, “Me either.”

“Kinda funny how it makes sense.”

Buffy shook her head. “Hardly.”

His ears perked up, “That’s amusing. Why do you go there?”

“Go where?”

“To that direction?”

Buffy’s head started to throb, “I don’t know, I’ve been through a lot, I guess I just don't feel like talking in general."

Talking was the main thing that troubled Buffy in the past. Everybody always had it down. They knew the words and how to say them. It sounds easier said than done. Buffy hated clichés but this one was a given. It's not just that she's shy, people actually think she's mute sometimes.

It irritated her more than anything. She had an opinion but it was just difficult to share when you know people weren’t going to listen. Buffy had sudden flashbacks to her high school. Everyone had thought she was Edward Scissorhands. Between the nerd and the loner. The freak of nature, only because she didn’t run her mouth every .5 seconds. More like disgusting nightmares, than memories.

She shuddered in the room as she was brought back, she realized she was still in the room. This guy sort of reminded her of the people back than. Always wanting to make small talk. But guys who did that only wanted one thing. Again, Buffy hates clichés.

“Well, do you wanna talk about anything?” He said, scaring her a little.

Her eyebrows bunched together, “Why are you so concerned about this?”

He smirked, “A simple yes or no wouldn’t have been better.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Its not that easy. Look, no offense, I really don’t know what’s going on and I think I need to go.”

“Alright, well, you could have gone a while ago but you’re still here. I not a fate follower--”

She cut him off, “Yeah, you know, OK. I’m gonna go out now.”

She turned around, determined to make a clean exit and not get sucked into something that will drive her anymore crazy than she already feels.

The last thing she needs is crazy thoughts filling her head.

She turned the handle and stepped out calmly. She ignored the pull to the door that she shut behind her. As soon as she stepped out she felt someone take her hand.

She turned and her eyes were apathetic. Her dad pulled his daughter into a hug and held her there. To Buffy, it was overkill and against her will.

“Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?” He pulled back when he felt her push his body away.

“I’m fine, Dad. Where is she? Are you guys finished?”

He nodded, his mouth turned into a thin smile, “Your mother is finished but afterwards, I saw her talking to another woman here. I wasn’t really a part of it but your mother mentioned that her son is going through a hard time.”

“Well, is she done?” She didn’t want to sound rude but staying here was stifling enough on her neurons.

He shook his head, “Not yet, honey. She’s in the waiting room with Karen right now. I was talking to her husband before. He’s out there too. It’s pretty heated. You’re mother’s very emotional now so try to not get her so upset maybe.”

“Yeah, OK. Maybe my suicide didn’t just make her emotional enough. I wish Eric never found me.”

He touched her shoulder and she flinched back, “Don’t say that. Please, we really care about you. We’re here for you OK?”

She didn’t want to hear the psycho babble bull shit anymore. She knows in her heart the real truth how who they both are. If they did care, she wouldn’t be here. If they actually listened to her maybe she wouldn’t feel so destitute. If they did care, she wouldn’t feel the need to swallow massive amounts of pills.

She had a strange night already, and the last thing she needed was it to get strange with such pretentious words.

“No, I’m not going through with this anymore. I’m getting mom and we’re going. Get away from me.” She huffed away toward the waiting room.

Buffy nearly sped past her father and made her way to the wait area. She spotted the coffee machine and sighed in relief. But her mother and what looked like a man and a woman handing hands in deep-sated conversation on the opposite side of the room.

Buffy rolled her eyes and marched over them, praying that she was finished. As she got closer, the woman on her right looked really familiar. When she saw her face, she felt like she’d been socked openly in the stomach. It was her. William’s mother. What the hell was she doing talking to her mother like they were close friends.

All the faces had turned to Buffy and she felt like she’d just been caught for shop-lifting something.

She found her voice slowly, “Mom, hi, did you finish everything?”

Suddenly she was afraid to say anything else. She didn’t want to seem like a bitch to people she barely knew.

The woman she prayed would forget her had recognized her, “Buffy, how is he doing?” She made a side note to her mom, “She spoke to my son earlier. I told her it would help him.”

Buffy started to pre-sweat now. “Um, yeah well, I didn’t want to be rude.”

The woman nodded, “Trust me sweetie, everything helps.”

Joyce suddenly chirped in, “Honey we’ve invited them to dinner tonight. I figured since, it would help everyone deal with what’s happened.”

Huh? What? Buffy’s eyes bugged out of their sockets, “Uh, mom, no offense, is this the best idea? I mean, I still feel really tired and I just want to go home.”

Joyce was impervious, “I believe it is. Besides, its nice to do. Do I make myself clear? The Pratt's are coming for dinner tonight. Understood?”

Oh boy, no sympathy ever. Did she have a choice, “Their son is coming too?”

William's mother laughed, “Oh, don’t worry sweetie, you’ve already met William.”

Life has officially sucked from then on.

Buffy braced herself for the worst. She knew it was coming. She exhaled loudly on purpose as she rode in the backseat while her parents blissfully ignored her. She wasn’t expecting much, it was like nothing happened the past week. She didn’t try to end herself. It was all a hoax.

How much more of this can she take? Was she not being obvious enough about everything? She tried to kill herself and its not real. She prayed that the world would be quiet and peaceful for once but it was almost as if that dream was ripped apart as soon as she came back to life. This is death, everything that goes with the fight.

She drummed her fingers upon the black leather car seat and rolled her eyes at the thought that her parents actually gave two shits about her. She didn’t know where it came from but, she had the feeling that they wanted to kill her in her dreams.

If only they did. If only they actually went through with it. What would that be like to die? It’s possible, its always possible. Just like The Hours, where Virginia Wolfe contemplates the idea of dying to lying in a silent, wastrel life without love or any kind of emotion. It feels like that most days. That was her favorite book.

Lately, Buffy has grown obsessed with death and how one dies. It’s the biggest mystery ever. Where do they go? What happens the moment in that moment when everything goes extra quiet? Between the lines of dark and light. She wanted to know. She was hungry for finding out the truth for once. At least something in her life would make sense.

She flicks away a lone tear falling fast and folded her arms. Everything was out control and things are back to where they were before. It was hard to believe alive when you’re brought back to life and nothing changes. Especially when you’ve raised yourself with a free-spirited outlook.

Before she got used to the solace in her mind, she was there. Back in hell. She was frozen in her place. Scared to move. Her eyes… the only source of action to her passive response. She looks at her tired fingers knowing nothing else. The lines reminded her of an old weeping willow and she didn't exactly fancy it much.

She shook roughly as Joyce spoke, “Did you hear me, Buffy? Hello?”

She shook her head slightly, “What?”

Joyce rolled her eyes, “I said step out and help me make dinner tonight.”

She started to protest with her arms, “Mom, I don‘t really wan--”

Joyce held up her finger as yield sign, “No, the Pratts will be coming over and we must treat our guests with respect. Now, get out and start helping me and your father with preparing it.”

Buffy was tight-lipped. There was no way out of this one. She’d have to just bite her tongue and do it. What she really wanted was to be by herself… Someplace where no one exists and the possibilities of silence is endless.

She groans as the world sucks once again and slops her way inside the house that she thought she’d never step in again. It looked slightly grainy, almost like out of some 70s archival footage. The walls were cracked and Buffy felt like she was closed in. The overall scenery was too stifling for her. She had the feeling that any moment, someone would jump out and scare her.

Buffy clutched her shoulders, trying to hide herself as she took slow steps toward her upstairs bedroom. She had to hold on the railing for a moment to stop her movements. She paused her brain. Everything was muddled beyond repair. It started all over again. The thoughts she had a week ago, the thundering roaring realization of gloomy captivity.

The thoughts were sucked back into her mind as her eyes opened. She was thinking it again. About the moments that happened before it. She willed herself to move and it was barely there but she managed somehow.

She walked in and took off her jacket, placing it on the soft corner chair sloppily. She tries to clear her mind. She made a dash for her bed and collapsed face-first on top.

She closes her eyes. Life is still, lonely, cold, and helpless. She is dreaming but lying awake all the while. She moves her face to the left side for air, still trying to meditate.

Parents really don’t understand anything. It was like they don’t think twice before closing their legs as soon as babies are conceived. It’s not fair. For a while she thought it was all a phase. Like she could change the system or something. It’s a fucking corrupt system is what it is.

What is life if all you do is cry and dream of things that are out of reach? What kind of life is that? As she thinks about this, her eyes start to water. Yet again, she’s numb. It almost becomes a ritual now. Only she never knows when she will actually do it.

She hears muffled voices downstairs. Her eyes pop open at this. She grows curious a little.

Buffy drags her body up to her door and listens to the familiar voices. Its them, the family from the hospital. What was their name?

“The Pratts? Fuck this.” she said to herself tediously.

She noticed her mom and dad were in some kind of deep conversation again. It was gross to see how her mother actually cares to hear what people say other than herself. And her dad was worse. He always gave off the creepy Tom Cruise vibe.

But she also noticed someone not there. The man she met at the hospital. The man she gave her ring to. Something wasn’t right. She thought he was coming.

“Oh well…” she said absently.

She closes the door behind her and leans against it inside her room. She jumped as she heard the door knock against her.

She wanted to scream out but she knew she couldn’t. Again, she was robbed of freedoms. It was her life, well, what’s left of it anyway; not much.

She sighed, “Who is it?”

“Uh, hey, its Will from well, from before. Can I come in?” He was nervous, but why was he the nervous one?

Can he? Eh… she looks around at the horrible mess in her room for the first time, “Uh, OK, hold on.”

She rushed to put her clothes away and miscellaneous nick-nacs in their correct places. She grabbed her jacket and flung it in the closet, closing the mirrored-door afterward.

She went for the door handle, turning meticulously. She knew who it was, she just wanted to appear less out of breath. She pulled the rest of the door open and looked at him.

She would hate to admit it out loud but he had this clueless expression on his face like he was caught doing something bad. It made him look like a child, almost cute.

Nervously she smiled and let go of the door to give a small wave, “Hi, what’s going on?”

He rubbed his neck as if shaking a thought out, “Oh, well, your parents are talking to mine now but, I think your mom said they might be going out to dinner. So they said--”

Buffy groaned visibly, “I have to go with them now? Shit, why today?”

She saw his expression and immediately retracted her comments. “I mean, your mom is nice, I’m sure your dad is too, but, I don’t know, I’m not really feeling like a social butterfly today.”

He started laughing, “No, uh, actually, she suggested that they go alone. Just the four of them. I was trying to say that but you cut me off.”

Buffy smiled sheepishly, “Oh, yeah, sorry… Well, so, OK, why aren’t you going?”

“Can I come in first? I kind of get the feeling I offended you by standing here.” He gestured to the where he was standing.

She nodded, “Oh yeah, sure.”

She got out of the way and took a seat on her bed. She watched him walk in kind of awkwardly. She wondered what he was thinking as he looked about her room. Soaking in the various materials dispersed every which way. Made her feel raw and exposed.

He wouldn’t guess she was spoiled, not by the way she’s acted so far to him. But half of the stuff, he guessed, she could survive without. Maybe there’s something else going on? He thought about that for a second. If there was, she’s a good actress in hiding it. Her parents seem too perfect to be considered acceptable. But it wasn’t her parents he was interested about. It was her.

Buffy cleared her throat, “I never seen a guy concentrate this much on someone’s room since Queer Eye.”

He shook from his thoughts and reacted with a slight scoff, “I’m not gay if that’s what your getting that.”

Even as he said that, he still was preoccupied with checking out her room. But his personal life is none of her business. “I never said you were or even asked it. I thought you were going to answer my question.”

He finally looked her. She was leaning on her elbows now, almost sensually but the expression she held, led to otherwise.

He took a seat on the chair in the corner; maintaining his distance. “What was the question again?”

She rolled her eyes pathetically, “Why didn't you go?”

“Because I wanted to stay here, with you.” he whispered.

She picked herself up from the bed and crossed her arms, “Why?”

He licked his lips, thinking, “Relaxes me. I don’t feel bored around you.”

Buffy broke eye contact and didn’t have anything to say. What could she say? She believed him? She knows what the feels like? She refused to believe it was that simple.

She tried to change the subject, “So what’s your take on Lindsay Lohan? Or Paris Hilton?”

She slightly rolled her eyes. This was the best she could come up with?!

Will threw his head back in a laugh, “Yeah… I never cared much about those girls.”

Buffy folded her arm matter-of-factly, “Well, its important. You should have read the last US Weekly.”

“Maybe I should have.”

Buffy made a clucking sound with her tongue and gave a laugh, “I’m kidding. I don’t care for shit like that.”

“Figured, are you always this confusing?”

She rolled her eyes, “Uh, no. I was trying to make a joke. Obviously you don’t know what that means.”

“No, I do just fine. You’re just unclear or you were bailing out on my previous question. I feel its number two.” Will rubbed his chin in thought.

He had her seized up. Got her right where he wanted her. She appeared vulnerable suddenly. He had this urge to just hold her. She looked a doll; a fragile one. One that needs to watched closely or else it’ll be destroyed.

He wished he knew what she was thinking, feeling… He doesn’t know anything about her, yet, she’s a part of his life somehow. Maybe he’ll never. But also, maybe she knows something he doesn’t. All thoughts he considered.

Buffy’s eye-lids closed in slits, “Well, you’re wrong… on both counts. Why are you really here? What do you want?”

She really didn’t want to get into it but she had to know. It was eating away at her like a virus.

Someone came bursting through the door before Will could open his mouth. It was Joyce and Buffy didn’t really want to know what this was about.

Joyce looked skeptical a little, “What’s going on here?”

Did she actually think there was something going on? She’s fucking paranoid.

Buffy rolled her eyes, standing up with her hands placed firmly on her hips. “Are you kidding? Absolutely nothing is going on here. He was just about to leave.”

Buffy gestured to a shocked Will. It was his turn to speak, “Uh, I’m not leaving.”

Joyce held both hands up, yielding what was about to occur. “Buffy, don’t talk to him like that. His family has been through enough. Show him some respect.”

And she hasn’t? “Mom, I’ve been through hell too. I really don’t need this shit pushed upon me now—“

“Watch it Buffy! Don’t use curse words in front of guests.” Joyce stood firmly.

Buffy smirked, “Fine, I’ll wait till they leave.”

Joyce sighed. When was her daughter going to learn anything? “Buffy, don’t be like that. Respect people please.” She looked back at Will and gave small smile, “William, sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us? We don’t mind.”

Oddly, Buffy was kind hoping his answer was no, maybe she didn’t want to feel truly alone now. Anybody was better than nobody.

She was afraid she might try it again. She waited for his answer which seemed to take forever and a day.

Buffy’s POV

As I gazed at him, he seemed be struggling to say yes or no. Its funny how when he brings it up with me, he’s got no problem with handling the insults. My hands start sweating and my mouth goes dry as he takes his sweet time. Just answer already!

I felt like shaking him until, “Well, do you also mind if I stayed here? Would that be OK?”

Huh? I honestly was not expecting that. He seemed nervous as he said this. That’s strange. But, least I knew I wasn’t going to do it tonight. I guess I can breathe easy?

My mother nodded slowly, “Sure, you guys can maybe go to a movie or something?”

I guess this is what it means when they talk about the end in your life.

“Thanks, I think we’ll figure something out Mrs. Summers. Thanks for inviting me and my family over.” The sweetness is almost too hard for me to hear anymore.

Finally, she nodded her goodbyes in the phoniest expression I’ve ever seen her do. She was truly one of those idiot mothers that had absolutely no clue how to act around people. She thinks that just because she spread her legs and had child, that somehow she understands pain and all that comes along. No fucking clue. I was miffed at the fact that I’m still alive and yet it feels as if this was a new kind of hell. I try to just get through the next moments; the ones that follow. Just knowing that I have nothing let to lose and nothing to gain; terrifying my mind. I feel a water start form again and I refuse to let it show. Not now. Not while he’s around. Who is he anyway?

Oh, I got an idea, “Hey, I’m really feeling tired, I think I’m going go to sleep early.”

I make my way past him and start taking off my sneakers, never once paying him a look. I feel like it’s maybe worked. He can’t bother me if I sleep right?

I feel his eyes but keep my quietness up regardless, “Why did you give me your ring?”

My ring… He knows. I did? Holy shit! Now what?

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it was you in my room that first night I was there. Why did you leave?”

I smiled shaking my head, clearing my throat. I really was stuck on this. My neck was starting to swell a little and I started to rub the spot. “I wasn’t even there. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I sounded convincing a little.

“You mean this isn’t yours?” I looked up as Will pulled my ring out of his pocket.

I looked at it for a second. The pink and emerald shine is so bright and knowing from a distance. I adored it.

But, clearly, yes, its mine; was. My only friend, Jeannie gave it to me before she was killed 5 years ago. It was the only thing that meant or had some value to me. But it wasn’t mine, not anymore. I have to let her go. I think I had when I gave it to Will in a small way. I didn’t need it anymore. I must have been in daze when I remembered that he asked me something. I spoke the only way I know how.

“That isn’t my ring. It never was.” I didn’t catch his reaction because I was looking down.

Whenever Jeannie gets brought up I start to get really vulnerable and meek. I try to change the subject because its still with me. I feel like she’s still here. Sometimes I think she’s going to meet at the mall like we used to.

“OK, Well, I’m going to leave it here. If you wanna talk about anything, I can just listen.” Somehow, I’m doubting what everyone says.

Yeah, it wouldn’t be the best idea to talk about anything sad now. Besides, I don’t know how depressed I can get. I really don’t want to find out.

I strangely cleared my throat, burying the previous comments, “I’m really hungry now, do you wanna get something to eat?”

I figure if I suggest food I could get rid of him quicker. I hope.

He stands up, placing his hands in his jean pockets, “Sure, where would you like to go?”

Anywhere, “There’s a place 10 minutes away I know. Little café on the corner. Its not a Starbucks or anything.”

I turned my heel, assuming he would follow me downstairs. I have a weird feeling about all this. it’s the same feeling I get when I steal money from my mom. I was getting this nervousness tingling in all corners of my body. I felt like my emotions were getting the best of me again. Which they always are.

I jumped when he took my hand. I had to stop myself before I went any further. We were an inch away from the door and it was the strangest feeling ever. I felt at home all of a sudden. Like somewhere there was some inkling that I was going to be OK. I certainly read about this stuff but never really came to touch with it.

Certainly something I didn’t want to refuse. In my way, I let him touch me. Maybe because I’m not exactly all there. I thought about it before.

I turn around slowly, trying to be careful a little. I still don’t know him. I felt a little on the spot with that stare he’s giving me. I sighed deeply, letting out most of the nervous vibes that stuck on me. Maybe this was his way of reaching out. But why? Why did he care at all?

This was what I always wanted. Standing in front of me, that was it. But I was afraid. My mind was racing and I couldn’t make up my mind about his gesture. But I couldn’t let myself let go. I was too selfish to close off myself completely. I really didn’t want to die anymore.

I gave smile that I felt was as real as real can be, “Thanks, you know, for doing this. I don’t know what would happen if I found myself alone tonight. God knows what could happen.”

I felt as if I was rambling slightly but I guess he didn’t notice as he gripped my hand tighter but in a gentle way.

He nodded, agreeing with me, “I know exactly what you mean.”

---

Spike’s POV

My body was weak still but I was fully recovered as she drove the ten minutes to The Corner Bakery adjacent to her abode just like she pointed out to me. I offered to drive her but she insisted she handle it herself.

I couldn’t help myself. I felt connected to her. I wanted to keep staring at her but I didn’t want to seem like a crazy boozer in time’s square. She had this habit of constantly adjusting her hair. Like maybe she had to impress someone.

You’d think this was a date or something. Well, no. Wouldn’t go there quite so fast. It’s just getting some food with a hospital mate. But she’s more than that. Just wish I knew what it was. She’s this big cloud of mystery which bothers me more than anything. But than again, she gives herself away with her mannerisms.

I can’t help it, I’m an observant guy. Sue me.

We approach a small little bistro-like eatery and Buffy killed the engine. We meet each other on my side as I take hold of her hand again. Ever since she said she doesn’t want to be alone, I’m not letting her out of my sight.

Strangely, I had the same feeling too. We’re both in the same boat. I really couldn’t stand my life. Well I couldn’t stand the people in my life. Its always the people who drive you be at your worst.

The moment the blades cut at the pain, it was this freezing feeling of life being lifeless. My veins were open to the world and I didn’t have a care one bit. Everything was in slow motion. My eyelids grew heavy and I started to sleep. I wanted to stay asleep.

Suicide is something I’ve always thought was the only way I could stop everything. Not just the pain. But living. Getting through the moments and the emotions. Crying yourself to sleep was NOT a life I wished for myself.

But I wanted that life. I didn’t want a life, now its different. Somehow I’m pushed to be strong. If not for myself but for her.

The girl who’s hand I’m holding. I have to be. I just have to.

We quietly walk to the door and I make my way to open it before her. She does this little thing where she smiles and looks down. I took it in as we walk to the front desk to order.

I wasn’t really hungry but I guess I could eat something to make her feel better. She looks particularly gaunt and parched. Her face, though breathtaking, looks tightly chiseled and unhealthy looking. It scared me to see it.

We each ordered a salad and took our seats in the corner booth. The silence was excruciating as I crunched down a mouth full of cobb salad. I watched her eat. She sits straight and ever so calmly nibbles on her salad.

I feel like I’m going nuts here. Here I am, sitting with a girl who drives me mad with all this secrecy. But why exactly am I crazy? She doesn’t owe me anything. Well, not entirely true. Her ring… I know there’s some story with it.

Whatever it is, must be really bad.

I couldn’t believe it. The whole time we ate, no one said anything. Not even a “hey this food is good” or a “its fucking freezing in here”. Which was an understatement to say the least. But nothing.

She barely made eye contact with me. Once in a while I thought she was peeking a look but than I realized the wall clock was behind me. Maybe she didn’t want to be around me, but I don’t buy that very much.

It was painful I tell you, but I actually made it through surprisingly. We sit in silence again. I tilt my head as I stare. Someone should say something or I’m going scream. I’m glad it was her though.

“I’m sorry if you feel like I’m ignoring you. I guess talking about what’s really going on wouldn’t make much difference.”

I nod my head weirdly but I got the gist of it. But I wasn’t sure if it was me that caused any of this. Could be the paranoia, but than I could be right on. Who knows?

“I see, well, what would you like to talk about?” I wanted to suggest something to kill away the soundless noise.

It looked like she was in thought, but than I saw a smile flicker and I hoped this was a good start. “What kind of things turn you on? Like things in life?”

I was blown away with the boldness that dripped from the question. Came out of double left field. I exhale as I answered, “Well, uh, I don’t to be vague and I say “everything” because, well, there’s so much that I don’t agree with. I would probably say tolerance, patience, and people who allow themselves to feel. Seems kind of general but those are the main thoughts that go through my head usually everyday.”

Yes, I was rambling and I mentally kicked myself for being so aloof but she didn’t care to mind. She appears to be thinking more than talking. A good quality, maybe I should give it a try.

She seems deep in thought. I didn't want to disturb anything. I didn't want to take anything away either. I didn't know what she was gonna say and it was fucking exciting.

“What kind of feelings?”

Don’t really know where these are going but I’m in for the ride, “Love, compassion, respect, well I guess that's more of a rule than a feeling. But I could feel respect, couldn’t you?”

She laughed, it was wonderful to my ears, “Yeah, I suppose. I feel respect, or try to feel it most of the time.”

Some things don’t change. “Yeah, again, it was one of those yes or nos. But I guess since the question was strewn a little off I’ll let it slide this time.”

I wink at her playfully earning a scoff from her, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yeah, it looked as if I was conversing, it was kind of good.

Buffy's POV

I couldn’t believe it, for the first time in a long time, I was actually enjoying myself. Strangely, I was allowing myself the pleasure. It felt really amazing. My whole body was lit up and I was so energetic I couldn’t believe it was still me. I guess he has that affect on me. It's a good thing too.

It's OK to let yourself feel. I hard to learn it this way, but hey, least I learned it. I was mind boggled with questions. I wanted to know so much without seeming nosy. All I know if I haven't stopped smiling yet.

Who knew I had a smile? I knew I had teeth, but a smile? Nah… I was really happy. I also I had this feeling I was going to lose 5 pounds just on laughing. I had no idea he would be this funny. It wasn’t one of those dry humors that you have think about to get it. It was smart but it was just funny. I missed that.

I would have these moments where I would just stare at him after a laughing fit, he caught me and would just smirk and that would make me laugh even harder. The oddest thing would happen. My whole mind was cleared of the clutter that held me closed for so long.

Well, I wouldn’t say my life was as worst as a vagabond, it certainly felt that way to me. Sometimes I would get these strange nightmares where something would stab and leave me to bleed to death. I had these nightmares frequently. I would wake up in sweat and than take the inevitable abuse that ensued from the day.

When I say abuse, I mean social services, belts, hands, fists, black eyes, scratches, abrasions, deep-sedated injuries stemming from just being there as their daughter. My father would beat me more than my mother. My mom was always a weak bitch when it came to actually physical abuse. My father was the winner in the matches. I mean that, he always won. I didn’t know what was wrong, one day I was just sitting there and than the next… BAM, right in the temple. I got used to him saying “take it, stop crying”. He is what he is and fuck him to hell for it.

My childhood was barely a blip on the radar. I knew who I was at school, but others thought different. People thought I was seriously disturbed all because I didn’t run my fucking mouth all the time. I wouldn’t talk to people. Most would stay away because of the obvious abuse. Everyone thought I was white trash or something. No one sought out a helping hand offering. I wouldn’t say I was completely alone, but it got worse for me when I hit high school.

Things were messy when I would attempt anything. I would try at something and get distracted often. I guess you could say I was pretty emotional for a lot things. Mostly all girls are insecure at some point in life.

I would keep diaries but never really commit to them. I find that writing out my thoughts only reminds me of what I lost and the pain I deal with. I felt like nothing would change for me. I wasn’t a lost cause but I was certainly a case study for Time Magazine. In a way, I was an individual, but I guess that’s a fancy word for alone.

That’s what I hated for the most part. And people didn’t understand me because of it. I always said, what’s the point of crying if you’re crying alone? There isn’t and the same thing goes for writing. What’s the point of it, if you do it ALL for you? Somehow its incomplete if you’re doing it for selfish reasons. I was that girl, still am that girl.

I think we all want to be liked secretly and society is just high school on a periodic cycle. It’s brutal but what we had learned of most Americans is that they get offended so easily its fucking insane. Typical American attitude is that the white men rule the world with an iron first while the intellectuals suffer a slow agonizing death of destroying the first amendment while the rich white man triumphs so he can fill his fucking fat ass pocket.

One of the big things I’ve learned from just dealing with people in life is the fact that dishonesty is notarized as a regiment of daily life. Sad. Should I worry? Probably not, as long as he's there, its OK.

I was curled up on the couch sitting aimlessly watching some reality show with Spike on my right. We were making fun of how the TV is overpopulated with too much reality TV and that anyone who likes the shows have extremely low self-esteem and should be left bleeding to death under the moonlight.

Well, the last part was in my thoughts and not vocalized but a girl can dream right?

“I can’t believe what the world is reduced to even 80s TV would have been a better choice than what we’re force-feed with this shit. It’s a crime you know? Someone should be tried.”

He laughed, pushing me playfully, “Just give me the names, a good fact checker, and some high ass attorneys to boot and we’re good to go. We’ll make a good team.”

I rolled my eyes, if only dreaming if it was that easy, “Yeah, I can see it now in bright lights, our claim would be thrown out the second I get it notarized. I think I’ll just stick to putting around for quality TV until then…”

He points his finger at me, “Sounds pretty optimistic, I’m too lazy to sue anyone now too. While we’re at it, wanna watch something else?”

I was picking at nails and biting them a little, “I guess, what else is on?”

He snatched the remote from the lamp stand next to him and started surfing. It seemed like all that was on was shit and more shit. TV is really dominated from that crazy reality shit. It’s hopeless, TV makes my head hurt.

I folded my arms as he thumbed through the end of the line of channels. The was nothing on, well nothing remotely interesting.

My head started to ache again and I turned my body around swinging my legs around, placing them on top of Spike’s lap. He jumped at my gesture and looked a little confused. We were close enough for this, right?

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Not really, just surprised a little.”

I nodded carefully, “OK, just thought you wouldn’t mind maybe. I think we talked about everything tonight. Well, everything we could stomach.”

He cradles my feet and starts rubbing them. I relax a little more as he does this. “Not everything. Tomorrow’s a new day. I literally just met you 7 days ago. There‘s always more to talk about.”

My eyebrow raised, “Like what? I felt like Paris Hilton the way I was talking about myself. Well, only my boobs are real.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. I’m a certified doctor in my own right.”

“What right is that, Doogie Houser MD practice?”

“Close, I used to have hats on this.”

“Ah, sounds like they missed someone on To Catch A Predator.”

I liked this, we were obviously joking, but I was really enjoying this game. I wanted to see how far he would go. I can last as long as it takes.

He rubbed a little harder than before. “Ouch! Spike, come on, I was kidding.”

“I know, I just wanted to hear you moan again. When was the last time you had your feet massaged?”

Good question. I’d remember something like that, “Don’t know. I guess you’re the first. You popped my feet cherry.”

I poked at his dimples. He seemed to look more at my feet than me. As long as he’s doing what he’s doing, I don’t care either way.

“Yeah, guess you could say that. There’s officially nothing on TV. What’s on the agenda now?”

“Well, no pressure right? I don’t know, you wanna go swimming?”

Why did I say that?

---

Spike’s POV

I jumped back a little, I was kind of shocked she would say that. Swimming? Umm… “I don’t have a suit.”

Lame answer, not sure why I was saying no. Maybe because it was her that asked. But in a way, I was relieved she asked.

She placed her hand over mine, I felt its heat, wasn’t sure what to make of it yet. “That’s OK. You just wear what you got on. I will too.”

Buffy? Swimming? Wearing hardly anything? Uh… not sure where this is going. Am I gonna handle it? I barely know her, but there’s nothing else going on.

“OK, you wanna go now?”

She hoped off the couch and I knew what she was about to say. “Sure, let’s go. I’m so bored.”

I reluctantly got up, sort of dragging my body behind her. She placed her hand on my chest.

“Can you wait outside while I change?”

My eyes crossed each other slightly, “Oh, OK. I guess I’ll do the same out here. I’ll wait for you outside, OK?”

I didn’t know what I was doing but I wanted to see where it would go. She nodded and stepped into the room to change.

I took a huge breath and thought about something. But what was there to think about? I started putting away those feelings and timidly stripped down to my boxers.

I felt a little weird. I took a seat on the love seat behind me and waited. I picked my clothes and placed them next to me on the couch.

My body had grown stiff all over since she mentioned swimming. How was I supposed to react? What would you say? All these things bothered me as I heard the door open and I saw her walk out.

It was obvious she was scared too as she started pulling her over-sized T-shirt down to her knees. I couldn’t stop staring at her legs. I felt frozen until she walked closer to me. I kept my distance, just in case.

We walked quietly outside as she leads the way. There were towels already laying near the poolside on top of the recliner lounge chair.

I was really cold now. I shivered where I stood but I instantly warmed when she held my hand. I looked at her with a smile on my face. She had this mischievous expression I couldn’t decipher.

“Come on, do you wanna just jump in or you wanna try the spa first?”

Tough, “Spa maybe, than we could jump in and scream at how cold its gonna feel.”

She rolled her eyes, “Scream? Who’s fooling who? You’re gonna squeal.”

She stuck her tongue out and I just laughed at the silliness. But she’s probably right. Gotta admire the accuracy still.

I follow her to the navy marble bath. I was so cold I just dove in as Buffy turned up the bubbles. She climbed in the far corner.

As the bubbles accelerated into the warm water, I started to relax. I almost started to close my eyes a little than I forgot I had company. I felt like I could sleep in here but I fought myself to keep calm.

Things were quiet again and it didn’t sound good. I thought this was over with. It was than that I looked over at her. She was biting her lip, avoiding my glare. She caught my eyes and I instantly turned away.

“What? You look like you wanna say something?” Her voice was small and quiet.

Among other things, “Actually, this was so relaxing I almost dosed off there. Its been a while since I’ve done anything like this. So…”

I was playing with the bubbles, collecting them in a pile and letting them dissolve into the sullen liquid.

“Same here. I’m not really a spa person anyway. I just wasn’t sure what you wanted to do. You seemed kind reluctant anyway. Having fun there?”

She gestured to my bubble game, moving closer. I was feeling more at ease too again. “Yeah, you should try it. It’s my own little way of not being nervous.”

Fuck, why did I do that? She interrupts my little game by clamping her hands onto mine. It didn’t scare me but I’m glad she brought me out of my distraction.

“Its OK. I do that too. You’re just more obvious about it.”

“Probably, can I have my hands back now?”

She lifted her hands up as something else started to lift up at the wrong time. I guess willing it down what do shit. Great, just fucking great. What if she noticed? Well, yeah, she had that look again.

She giggled and I instantly turned crimson.

Buffys POV

I was trying hard not to pinch myself at how myself fun I was having. Don’t wanna sound like I’m on a loop but I was really having the time of my life. It felt as if we were old friends catching up, delving into out mundane lives. The times of ease.

I relaxed, feeling completely my true self. I had no idea what was going through his mind but I was on overdrive I was very happy. But every time something good happens I usually feel like the wind will be knocked out of my sail at any given time or place. I had this feeling. I guess you can call it paranoia. Ever since I was younger, it was kind of one of my trademarks.

Spike told me he was going through a lot on his own. Most emotions are guarded behind closed doors. I always thought that’s where your true self exists.

I always dreamed of finding that one person that I could be real with. Seems like the wait is over. I know that person has a name. It’s a reassuring feeling finally. it’s a big shocker that someone could just sit there and listen. A rarity among the human race.

I used to be, well, I’ll just say I shared a couple of interests with this one girl. I know you’re thinking I’m selfish but hear me out. She was a tall, lanky girl, striking looking, self-conscious to beat, and annoyingly busy as fuck. That was her downfall. I couldn’t understand it. I bare my soul to the wrong people.

Anyway, she who will remain nameless hardly ever kept her promises. It was like I was the “friend” part of the circle while she, (not trying to knock anyone for trying to make a living, which was a hell of a lot more well off than my situation) barely made any effort to call or acknowledge that I exist. Was I that repulsive to her? I used to ask myself that a lot.

I had had enough and long story short, the girl denied it to death. It was a sad time but I’m well good and over it now. Just felt like so long ago, makes me cherish my time more than before, which was probably why I was so skeptical of anyone.

I can’t stand behavior like hers. This was after Jeannie’s death. I was still in my sedated trance and was reaching for any help I can get short of joining her in heaven. I didn’t want to die and tried everything I could to sort of out when I needed to get through what was going on. I don’t understand death, I never did and probably never will.

People are hard to believe sometimes. Trust is a tricky bastard. I wish and will it in my life but I get disappointed. Its worse when you didn’t see it coming. Gotta give it to them, some are good actors.

I felt sad now. A little possessive but sullen. More like a little pissed now. I wish he could take me with him. Away from this loud, obnoxious hell once the door closes. You may think I whine a lot, and you’re probably right.

I think if I could have one power it would be to hear thoughts. Although it would have the obvious side effects. If I’m not specific I could hear everyone’s thoughts. If I had my pick, just Spike’s thoughts would do. Possibly Karl Rove’s. Depends on what mood I’m in.

It was 11:11pm and time was winding down. Honestly, I just wanted him to stay. I never wanted anyone to stay. I hated all the people my parents brought over. Mainly because if you tend you like fakeness, you most likely relate to it. My mom always acted like she was Kathy Hilton or some shit. She’s not in the story much, I try to ignore her as much as I can.

After we got dressed, we got bored with TV and decided to check out my yearbook, well, he wanted to. God knows why. I think I was talking about high school it led to the yearbook. I can’t believe I kept it, those were the most vicious years of my life.

I know everyone says that about their experiences, (the lucky ones in cliques don’t) but mine is as true they get. I was branded the “waste of space” by our graduating class. Boys were boys and girls were bitches. Typical mean girls straight out of the ideal picture of stereotypes.

But I was looking at it again. Reminding myself what a failure I felt like. All those names and fights that broke out. I shook my head of those memories. It needed to be buried.

“Buffy, are you OK?”

I gave him a passing smile, well the best I could do. “Yeah, just forgot about those times. It all came back.”

We were lying down next to each other on our elbows. I could tell he wanted to know more but I was ready to be so open. Even if I was building trust.

“Yeah, my experiences weren't the greatest either. I went to a private school and all we did was count the minutes while we thought about graduating a virgin.”

“There is only one man.”

“Never thought of it that way but I guess you have a point.”

“How important is it really? Would it have been so bad if you stayed that way?”

He licked his lips, “Maybe… I always thought about waiting but the peer pressure was too strong and I didn’t think about much when I lost it. I felt like every guy I know and it was a shitty feeling. Regret is the one thing I can’t forget. I treated it like nothing. If I had to go back I would have waited til I found someone more durable…”

"Oh, I see. Why is that?"

He laid on his back, “I meant more worth it. I shouldn’t have listened to everyone when they told me I had to do this. I didn’t have to do anything and that was the problem.”

I felt sad. I didn’t know what to say. Its not easy thing avoiding people you’ve called friends or forget them. My mind is jumbled with my own experiences. I could get stuck like this so I quickly erased them before I did.

“To each is own. Its hard to say no sometimes. I think a lot people lie and they don’t have regrets, I try not to let it get to me so much. I don’t live by most of society’s rules anyway. Its demeaning to follow. Some rules are meant to be broken anyway.”

He looked kind of stumped. His lips curled upward as if he was taking in what I was saying. I knew I wasn’t that convicting, I always spoke that way. It was news to me why he reacted that way.

“Maybe you’re right. The problem was I was trying too hard to please everyone else. It was one thing that knocked off everything else that followed. This could be one those topics that turns into something we might regret.”

Could be, “OK, what time is it now?”

He glanced at his watch, “Not too late, well for me, 11:47pm. We’ve done a lot things. Do you have any ideas?”

I yawned, giving myself away, “No, did you want to stay the night or something?”

Uhoh.

---

Spike's POV

I hadn’t thought of staying here. But if I did, would it make a difference? She said she didn’t want to be alone and I stayed. But stay the night?

I don’t know why but I was cornered. I didn’t know if I should. But I’m a grown man I should be able to make up my own mind. I had a place. Maybe she could come with me. I had a guest room she could stay in. I always used it for my brother or friends from late nights.

I was really confused. Did I want her with me tonight? It’s not a marriage proposal, I’m not growing feelings in the one day of meeting her, what the fuck is it? Well, what am I waiting around for; I knew what to say.

“Buffy, do you wanna come with me? I mean maybe stay over where I live? I figure it would be easier and if your mom and dad don’t mind.”

She stopped me with her hand, “I don’t need permission from them. If I had a chance to get out I’d take it.”

“So, you’ll come with me?”

“Yeah I guess. Where do you live?”

We both got up as I spoke, “Not too far. It took a while before because I was driving my car. Did you wanna get some things together? I can wait outside if you’d like?”

She nodded quickly, “Yeah, thanks.”

I gave a smile and walked outside her room, waiting in the living room.

I took a seat on the couch and rubbed my eyes with my palms. Tonight has been interesting. I met someone I never thought I’d meet and like. I feel like she’s the opposite of me, but it seems to work.

I’m enjoying myself for the first time and it feels amazing. I wish this surge of empowerment could last forever. Well maybe that’s a bit of a stretch but I just don’t want it to leave. I don’t wanna keep away from her. Not tonight. Especially with her confession she relayed. I also had the feeling that something would happen to me too. Like I might try something.

Visiting my parents were bad enough. I wasn’t ready. They couldn’t understand me. Not even my friends understood what happened. They acted as if nothing phased them. Well, least it looked that way with how they handled it.

A lot of people were shocked that I, Spike, would commit something so unspeakable and unassuming amongst all the “happy” faces that were thrown around me every which way. No one ever seems to pay attention to the underlying notes. The secrets that no one cares to pluck out.

Maybe I’m an uber thinker but I feel a lot of the time that hardly anyone seems to take the time out for anyone. With all the random ADHD galore, its difficult to pick out who’s particularly the worst.

Pessimistic, I know, but there’s a lot that needs to be confronted and if no one is going to do it, the time has come.

I must have dosed off because I noticed Buffy’s dark chocolate eyes right in my face, almost hitting me back to the checkpoint.

“Hey, you ready?”

Her hand was on my knee, too distracting but it was good enough to shake me out of my daze. “Uh, yeah, you all set?”

She nodded a yes as I saw her duffle bag on her shoulder. I got up and we headed outside to my car.

I was kind of embarrassed because I hadn’t cleaned the inside of it for a while. I wasn’t living in it or anything, but Newsweeks and Time magazines as well as my gym clothes in the back seats. Actually it kind of looked like I was camping out for a week, which was still embarrassing.

I unlocked the doors and opened her side. I was hardly a guy who would do this but it was part of the protecting her that I promised myself. I really did. I wanted her to be safe, not just tonight, but every night that follows.

Thank God there wasn’t anything on the shot gun side. I closed the door and jogged over to my side. As I got in and turned on the engine, I gave her a look and she caught it, smirking a little but I believe she got me.

I backed out of the drive and started my commute back home. Things were silent for moment but it was a good silence. It was more of I understand you and we didn’t need to say a lot to know what we’re trying to say.

I felt her take my free hand from my lap and hold onto it tight. I loved how subtle it was. It didn’t scare me, it made me content that she was comfortable around me. I want her to be. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Not under my watch.

“I hope that wasn’t too corny. I mean you did rub my feet, we’re past the small nervous stuff by now.”

I exhaled, “Nah, I’m just glad it was only my hand that came up this time…”

I was joking just in case she was thinking about earlier.

I looked at her and she had this confused look plastered on her face. “What else would come up?”

I blushed, “Never mind.”