"Why did you do this?"
We are standing in the woods on a dark night. What night it is, I cannot remember. All I know is that I crawled out of the grave two nights prior, due to his actions.
"I thought you would be happy."
"Happy? Do you…" I stagger for a moment, my thoughts askew. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
His expression is one of sadness mixed with slight confusion. How he didn't see this coming is beyond me.
"But…you're alive. You're back. Isn't this what you want?"
"No, Dean. This is what you want. How could you not take that into consideration?"
His eyes turn away from me then, unable to meet my gaze. For a moment, we stand in silence, unable to come up with the proper things to say to one another.
"I couldn't just leave you…" he says, his voice choking with tears, ones he was doing his best to lock within his eyes.
"You weren't leaving me!"
There are angry tears in my eyes now. My emotions are a wrangled mess. I don't feel human in any manner. There is nothing but a blind rage, mixed with disgust and melancholy.
"I was in Heaven, don't you understand that? I was happy."
"You're not happy now?"
My eyebrows furrow at him. His words seem to push his actions onto me, which doesn't help our situation.
"You know what I mean. People die, Dean. You have to accept that someday. It's a part of life. You can't bring them back. There's a reason for death."
"So you're telling me you wouldn't do it? If it was me? Or Dawn?"
His tone is attempting to justify his actions. It does nothing for me.
"Remember my mother? The one I found dead? I would have done anything at the time to see her again, but pulling her back from the afterlife was beyond that threshold. Don't you get it? I'm not the same person anymore. I shouldn't be here."
"Why not? We could be happy here. It's not such a bad place."
"Yes, it is. After being in Heaven, I see only darkness here. People are nothing but animals. They're selfish, violent, hateful things. And now I feel worse than them."
He shrinks back from me, wiping away at his face and taking a swig out of a flask from his jacket pocket. I stand with my arms folded across my chest, looking past him until he stabilizes himself for the better. He still appears miserable, however.
"What about us?" he asks, "are we selfish and hateful?"
"Yes. We kill things. We live in the darkness. Even those that live in the light are the same because they think of merely themselves. Like you – the man who brought his girlfriend back to life so he would be in less pain. People like to believe they're good, but it's not true."
"You're not that way," he says, stepping towards me but stopping the moment I flinch. "You're wonderful and beautiful. I love you."
His voice is trembling. I have never seen him so vulnerable.
"But I don't love you. I think I did once, but not anymore. See that? I can hardly remember what I used to be. I have been made into what both of us hate because you did the worst thing that you could ever do to me."
The words gut him. I can see his heart tearing in half through his expression. Unfortunately, I feel nothing.
"Buffy…"
"Don't call me that. I'm not Buffy anymore. That girl died months ago. I'm…something else."
I turn and walk away from him and away from the life I used to have. As the woods part and I walk onto the main road, I can hear him break down. I experience no emotions. The woman I once was has vanished from reality. As of now, I simply exist.