Authors note: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I've got exams all over the place and wanted to get this out to you. I'd also like to thank you all for taking time to review this – it means so much, you have no idea. I know my writing is full of flaws, and I'm glad you are still able to enjoy it. And tweedisgood, first off, don't call me honey. Second, if you'd bothered to read further, you would have seen the clarification that Buffy always saw him as a "tower of strength" everlasting youth, blah blah blah, and now she finally sees that he's just as breakable as anyone. That being said, if you don't like my stuff, no one is forcing you to read it.
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There was nothing. A rush of feeling, fire of his soul burning up inside of him, and he was glowing, and it was effulgent, and it was – gone.
And now he was here.
He didn't know who he was, didn't know where he came from. He only knew that he was there. And every muscle in his body ached.
His lungs felt dry, like he hadn't used them in years. A strange pounding in his chest seemed harsh and out of place, beating mercilessly upon his insides. There was something there…something deep inside him, struggling to get out.
But he felt empty.
The man carefully rose off his cramping knees, slowly straightened.
Where was he? It felt warm and comfortable and safe. It was peaceful and beautiful, and he never wanted to leave. But something was telling him to, was calling him, urging him to go through the last veil.
Something – just out of reach.
He slowly walked forward, and he could swear there was something in the distance and it was glowing, just like him. The figure was beckoning to him, and holding out its arms while the peace of his surroundings stayed him.
The man cautiously took another step, his hand reaching out – and he was back.
"Buffy"