In my dreams I am still standing at the crater that is the remains of Sunnydale. I guess I've never left. Giles moved us to Rome this past year, said it would be ripe with new 'Chosen Ones' to take in and train and he was right. We've been so busy with the new girls that I haven't had a moment to myself since…well…forever. But there are times I wake up in the middle of the night…from the nightmares…always the nightmares. It seems no matter how hard I try I can't shake this depression that has settled over me. Can't shake the grief, the sadness, and the loneliness. I am fulfilling a new purpose, but in ways I'm more alone now than ever. I am not the sole 'Chosen One' anymore, and the walls are still closing in. I think that is why I can't stop dreaming about Sunnydale.
I miss my friends. After we squashed 'The First' and got over the initial hooray, everyone scattered to the four winds. Willow and Kennedy are globe-trotting all over finding and bringing in new Slayers. They adopted a little girl and have the whole complete family now. Xander disappeared god-knows-where after the death of Anya. No one can find him. I guess he wanted to hide to grieve alone. I can definitely relate to that feeling. The last time I heard from him was two months ago, just a vague postcard saying he needed more time to find himself. He didn't put a return address on it. I tucked it away into my keepsake box and then I sat down on the floor and sobbed. That happens a lot. Lately I just burst into tears for no good reason and I don't consider myself much of a weeper. Guess things are just catching up to me now, no time like the present and all.
It's all slipping away. I didn't know that becoming a normal person was going to feel like this. As much as I felt burdened by my calling, as much as I hated it, I find myself yearning for that life again. I just need something to do, something to pass the hours, so I can forget. God, I want to forget. I want to banish Sunnydale, forget about being 'The Slayer', missing Spike, craving a good fight, and just banish it all. Lock it in a box and throw away the key. I hate myself now.
Dawn is distancing herself away from me. She's become so wrapped in her little world of school, friends and guys that each day it seems she gets a little further away from me. At nearly seventeen she has come out of the tragedy of our past life smelling like a rose. Like she forgot all the horrible things that happened to us. Mom dying, the whole 'key' fiasco, and the sacrifice I made for her. She's forgotten it all and I want her to remember those things for the rest of her life. But she never listens to me. Why should she start now?
Giles is away again. He left for England to oversee the rebuilding of the Watcher's Council. I am alone in this big empty villa on the outskirts of Rome. Dawn is on some school trip; she couldn't pack her bag and leave fast enough. Why doesn't she want to be around me anymore? Do I disgust her? Do I frighten her? Just yesterday she was telling me to snap out of it, that a year had passed. Get a life, Buffy! God! I slapped her across the face…hard. How dare she! How dare she trivialize these things! How dare she move on and not wait for me to catch up! Why can't I catch up…what the hell is wrong with me? No one listens when I cry…no one cares…what has happened to my life…?
It's the middle of the night and I woke up screaming. Nightmare. Another nightmare. This time it was about Spike. I was back in the Hellmouth, he was telling to run away, get out now. But this time I didn't run away. I stayed with him, insisted on it. I stayed and burned with him. It scared me so much and now I can't go back to sleep. So I'm wandering this cold, empty house in my bare feet, wondering what the dream was telling me. I wonder what my life means now. Or lack of life, however you want to put it.
Got an email from Faith. She and Robin Wood are in Cleveland, taking care of things on that Hellmouth. I find myself wanting to go there with them. Giles can take care of Dawn. I've even thought about sneaking off. Just grabbing a few things, hopping a plane and getting the hell out of Dodge. Every day I hate Rome more. I hate the non-English speaking people, I hate the narrow streets, I hate it all. They say Rome is beautiful, steeped in history and mythology. I say blah blah blah… I just want to go home, where everything is familiar. But home is nothing but a big hole in the earth. Home is gone. Home was where I lost my virginity to Angel, where Spike was still with us, where I met Riley, where I buried my mother. There's no place like home…there's no place like home…
Today was the worst. I was going through some boxes, the ones that have been sitting here for the past year untouched. I suddenly found the energy to start unpacking them. I pulled out my diary from high school and as I was dislodging it from the pile of stuff it was buried underneath, I noticed something shiny and picked it up. It was a lighter, one of those flippy kind, a Zippo I think it's called. It was Spike's. That's when I broke down. Just completely lost it. So, there I was sitting in the middle of the floor of my bedroom, clutching Spike's lighter and sobbing like a baby. Giles found me, rushed to my side, comforted me and then asked me what was wrong. I could barely speak, just buried my face in his shoulder. After I calmed down, Giles gave me his best 'I'm concerned about you' speech and then left, cleaning his glasses, muttering all the 'dear lords' he could muster. The lighter is in my pocket now. I find myself reaching for it at least ten times a day, closing my fingers around the cold metal, closing my eyes and remembering Spike. It helps. A little. I still haven't told Giles the truth about why I was so upset. It would just piss him off to know that I was still mourning for Spike, that part of me still missed him, yearned for him.
God, I feel so old. Dawn ran away from home again. This is the third time this month and no one can find her. I don't care anymore. I wash my hands of the damn teenager who never gave a shit about me in the first place, who only cared about herself. I'm tired of the damn whining and the bitching. Why didn't anyone ever tell me how annoying my kid sister was? Guess when I was running around and like saving her life all those times it never occurred to me to sit up and smell the whiny brat. Maybe we won't have to call the police this time; maybe she'll wander home again and shut up for like, one second.
Dawn has been locked in her room for four days. Ever since Giles hauled her ass back home she hasn't spoken to us. Good. Let her sit up there, see if I care. As soon as the thought enters my mind I wonder when I became so bitter, so angry. I guess I could never really be angry at Dawn for too long, but I've been turning the other cheek way too much lately. Maybe she'll listen to me. For once. What a novel concept that would be. Teenagers…
Got another postcard from Xander. Finally. Seems he was in L.A. and ran into Angel. He didn't stay long, but Xander is making it sound like Angel was keeping something from him, hiding something. I wonder what? Is there a new big bad that needs a royal smack down, or is it bigger? Curiosity is getting the better of me and now I am packing a bag and flying to L.A. just to find out what the hell is going on. I'm glad I have an excuse to leave this house and Rome. I have an excuse to escape the nightmares…if only for a night or so. Dawn still hasn't come out of her room. Giles said he would take care of it. I don't care, I get to leave. I have a mission. I am mission girl.
Well, I got zip from Angel. Nada, nothing. But he was acting weird, weirder than usual I suppose. He seemed more anxious than I remembered, more animated, if that's possible. Didn't know the Great Broody One was capable of so much hyperactivity, but I've said it before: things are different. When I was leaving Wolfram and Hart, I passed a conference room near the elevator and something caught my eye…a leather duster. But before I could go in to investigate, Lorne called my name and I forgot all about the duster. There's a new evil a-brewing in Angel's neck of the woods, but he said he and his gang could take care of it. So, I said fine, but don't come crying to me when you get your asses kicked! Angel just stared at me as if I were insane. I walked out without looking back. Now I'm on the plane headed back to Rome and all I can think of is that leather duster, how much it looked like Spike's. I think my mind is playing tricks on me or I'm losing it. I also tried talking Xander into coming back with me but he ducked his eyes, said no and then walked away. I almost ran after him, almost begged him to stay, but for some reason my feet wouldn't move.
It has been two weeks since my trip to L.A. and I am still bothered about that leather duster. I want to call Angel everyday and ask him about it, but I've only gotten as far as putting the phone to my ear and listening to the dial tone. I don't know why I am so obsessed about it or why it's suddenly so important, but a part of me thinks it is no coincidence that Spike's jacket is at Wolfram and Hart. Then I start entertaining crazy notions about Spike being alive. I start freaking out, thinking the gang and I buried him alive in the Hellmouth, that we just left him there. Assumed he died. Why didn't we check? He told me to run, to get out, and I did. I never once second-guessed myself. But now I am. Is it possible? Could Spike really be alive? Does Angel have something to do with it? Why would he hide it from me? These questions keep me up at night. I'm glad, because I'm still having nightmares.
It is the two year anniversary of when me and the Scooby gang destroyed the First. Everyone is here, Willow, Kennedy, Andrew, Giles…well…not everyone. No Xander. I made him promise to come to our big hoopla and he said he would, but he's still a no show. I hope that he is ok and I worry about him. Willow pulled me aside and we got to talking and suddenly we were bawling because we are both worried about Xander. Then I swear, like ten minutes later he showed up and then the big group hug ensued. The original Scoobies were in the same room together at last. I haven't felt this happy in a long time and suddenly I find myself remembering Spike's aversion to big crowds and his biting sarcasm. You and the super friends exchanging a group hug…came over a bit queasy. I smile at the memory.
The other night, I could have sworn I saw Spike. I was out patrolling (it's something I still do, guess 'old habits die hard' and all that) and I turned a corner and there in the shadows I saw him. At least it looked like him. The figure was smoking a cigarette, a long leather duster swirling around him and suddenly I was running, calling his name, yelling, screaming and I turned another corner and he was gone. I fell to my knees and began to cry. What is happening to me? Am I really going crazy?
I've decided I'm leaving. I'm not telling Dawn or Giles or my friends. I'm just going to take off. I'm tired of being of being sad, of feeling like I'm past my prime just because I don't have a destiny anymore. I'm tired of being me, I guess. I'm only carrying a small bag, extra stakes, and the Zippo lighter I still keep in my pocket, to remind me of him. I'm on a mission. I'm going to find out once and for all if Spike is alive. I'm starting with Angel and I swear will beat him to a bloody pulp until I get the information I want. After that, who knows? As Giles would say, I'll be left up to God's good humor or something like that. Stupid British sayings.
So, I'm standing in this empty airport at two o' clock in the morning and at last I am starting to feel a little like my old self again. Walking the near-silent streets of Los Angeles headed towards Wolfram and Hart I come to a realization. I am home now. For real. Back in California. Back where I belong. If I don't find Spike or if I come to the conclusion I really am losing it, then so be it. I know that Giles will care for Dawn, that Willow and Xander will move on with their lives. It doesn't seem they miss me too much anyway, not like they depend on me anymore, like they used to. We have all grown up, gotten on with our lives. I think it's time I started getting on with mine. Alone. For the first time in my life I'm alone and you know what? I'm really ok with it. I think I'm ok with not being the 'Chosen One' anymore as well. There are other girls out there who get to worry about the evil stuff, not me. I'm 'normal' Buffy now, for the first time in nine years I'm truly 'just a girl'. Look out world, here I come……………………………………………..