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It felt like she was dying.

Everything on this earth was hard and painful. Every night she had patrol, only to go home, wash away the blood from her scrapes and apply ice packs to her bruises. She'd go to sleep to wake up and repeat the same routine the next day. Her friends didn't know what she was going through. Honestly, she didn't think any of them cared.

Except for Spike.

He knew. Oddly enough, she knew a part of him cared about her feelings, too. But he couldn't grasp what she was feeling now. Nobody could.

There had been warmth and peace. All her daily troubles were gone. She knew her friends would be okay without her and that she didn't have to worry about them or save the world anymore. She'd wished she could remember more, but the actual memories of her time in Heaven were gone, leaving her feeling hollow. Empty. And all that's left now is the memories of how she'd felt.

She was alone. Truly and utterly alone.

Should she forget and go on living like she was perfectly fine? That would appease her friends and her sister. She'd be back in Heaven again. Someday. Sooner than later, with being the Slayer and all. For now, she'd have to deal because that's what she'd always had to do, right? Deal with situations forced upon her, never have a choice of say even though it was her life. It wasn't fair.

Often, she wanted to ask Giles if another girl had become the chosen one after her death. She'd refrain, already knowing the answer. She was still the only girl in the world who could do her job, other than Faith. When Kendra was first called, Giles had explained to Buffy that the slayer line ran through her, and when she had died and Faith was called, it then ran through Faith. Last Buffy heard, Faith was still in jail, her version of Hell. It wouldn't have been so bad, her friends ripping her out of Heaven if she could've lived her life the way she wanted.

Often, she had wondered what would've happened if Faith had died. It was a horrible thought that went away as quickly as when it popped into her head. However, she couldn't help when the thoughts would come. If Faith died, then another girl would become the Slayer, and she could leave. The burdens of being the Slayer would be gone, and she could finally be free to live her life the way she wanted to. Maybe take Dawn and travel the world. She'd always wanted to travel.

And the worst part—the very worst part of it all—was when she was patrolling, and life felt too heavy, she'd sometimes not fight as hard, hope the fledgling was strong enough to take her out of the misery she was desperately drowning in. There had been a few that could've, and a lot more that had gotten the opportunity to seal the deal, then Dawn's face would pop in her head, and they'd be dust in the wind a minute later.

So, she stayed and suffered, for Dawn, because she loved her. She knew all too well the pain of losing a loved one, considering her mother had passed not too long before she did. It was something that Buffy didn't get a chance to sit down and process because there had been a world to save. In all honesty, she didn't know how much she cared about the world anymore. Every night—every goddamn night, she'd kill, and they just kept coming; it never ended.

What was the point of fighting evil if it was never truly gone? Sure, the threat now would eventually be gone. The Master was gone. So was Adam, and Glory, and every other demon she'd faced and killed, but evil still existed; still roamed the earth. It would never be truly gone. Never. Really, what was the point? She wished somebody would sit down and explain it to her because she didn't understand.

And that was why it was her first question when she sat down in the dingy diner.

Angel's eyebrows rose to his forehead. Buffy didn't understand what was so confusing about her question. "It's always going to be a fight, Buffy. It's hard, and it's painful, and it's every day. It's something we have to do," he explained.

Buffy smiled as he restated the words she had said to him long ago, when he was on that cliff, depressed and on the verge of killing himself from the First's influence. She looked down at her hot chocolate, watching the marshmallows deteriorate in the cup. "Gee, I wonder what smart and insightful person said that?"

"A smart and insightful person named Buffy Summers," Angel said softly, his eyes were searching hers, but Buffy couldn't bring herself to let him find them. She didn't want him to see how lifeless they were. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Same old same old. Mom's insurance bills are so much money I don't think I could come up with that much if I were to live to fifty; everybody expects me to be so…" she trailed off with a wave of her hand.

"Be what?" he prodded.

"Strong," she finished in a whisper. "I used to be so strong. Mentally and physically, but now… this has to be the weakest I've felt since -" you were Angelus. She didn't finish the sentence, and judging by the awkward silence that followed, she knew he caught onto the unspoken words.

"Buffy," Angel said; she looked up and finally caught his eyes. "You can talk to me about it, you know. I've been to Hell. I understand what you're going through."

"No, you don't. You can't possibly know because you've never been…" Buffy diverted her eyes from his and back to her cup. "You've never been ripped out of Heaven," she said.

There was another deafening silence. It seemed to stretch forever, too long for her liking.

Daring a glance, Buffy looked up from her cup. Angel sat there, speechless, his mouth hung open, and eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Does anyone know?"

Buffy shrugged and averted her eyes to the guy over Angel's shoulder, munching on his sandwich.

"Spike knows."

"Just Spike?" Angel shook his head. "What about the others? And do I need to ask why Spike is the only one that knows? Or why he knows in the first place?"

"He's changed," was Buffy's response.

"We're talking about the same Spike? Evil, soulless Spike? William the Bloody? The same Spike that tried killing us multiple times?"

In all honesty, Spike hadn't been in the 'evil' part of Buffy's brain for a while, probably since he took the beating from Glory to keep Dawn safe. "I think you and I both know that change is possible from even the worst of creatures," she said flatly.

The sentence smacked the confusion off Angel's face and replaced it with annoyance. "He doesn't have a soul. He's incapable of change."

"I used to think the same thing," Buffy responded. And she did, but somewhere along the line, Spike had proven himself that just maybe anybody was capable of being good if they wanted it. "Angel… I didn't come here to fight with you about Spike," she sighed in frustration. She did not want to talk about the current vampire in love with her ex vampire boyfriend, who loved her.

"Are you guys…" Angel paused for a minute, thinking of the right word. "Together?" he finally coughed out.

Buffy made a face. "Ew. Gross. I'm not with Spike."

Angel nodded his head. "Thank god."

"But," Buffy closed her eyes. "He has been there, fighting alongside and helping. He has earned my trust."

Another awkward silence. Did it always use to be like this? She felt like she was sitting down with a stranger.

"I can send you some money. I don't have much, but it should help get you by for a little while," he changed the subject.

Buffy shook her head, thanking the Gods above who kicked her out of Heaven for allowing the switch in conversation. "I'm not taking your money, Angel," she said.

"Still stubborn as ever," he gave a soft smile. "I'll send the money to Giles then; I know he'll make sure you use it."

He threw a couple of bills down on the table as they stood and walked outside. "I'm guessing Spike doesn't know about your money problem. You should mention it to him; he can help you out more than I can."

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows. "Spike has money. And what makes you so sure he'd help even if he did?"

They began walking down the sidewalk.

"Spike was always better than me when it came to financing his money," Angel responded bitterly. "He should have a good amount saved up by now. And Spike always helps the people he loves."

Buffy turned to him. "Love? I never said he loved me," she said, panicked.

"You expect me to believe that Spike changed to the side of good for no reason?" Angel said dubiously.

Buffy shook her head in confusion. "If Spike has money, then why does he steal?"

"Because it's Spike," Angel said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Buffy couldn't help the smile that began to spread across her face. This was the first time she'd felt at ease since coming back to life.

And it was from talking about Spike.

The bus ride back to Sunnydale was long and made her muscles all achy. She walked into her house to see Dawn on the couch and Spike on the floor asleep. Spike had agreed to keep Dawn company while she was out of town. Of course, she didn't tell him where she was going, but she had a suspicion he already knew. If he did, he had never commented on it.

Buffy walked over to the television and had to suppress a giggle at their choice of movie: Bring It On.

Anybody could change if they genuinely wanted it.