Catharsis
"So, Buffy, tell me a little more about these vampire fantasies that you have.."
Buffy lay on the couch looking every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. The supple leather creaked as she shifted position.
"They're not fantasies. They're every bit as real as you or I."
"I apologise. Tell me more about the vampires." The doctor spoke in soft, soothing tones but without any noticeable emotion. He sat next to Buffy in a worn office chair, looking every inch the archetypal psychiatrist. He was middle aged and balding but with an abundance of facial hair as if to compensate. His tweed suit thankfully, did not possess elbow patches but if his dress sense screamed inadequacy his posture oozed intellectual superiority.
And ever since Buffy had mentioned the word 'vampire' he had been scribbling furiously in the notepad resting on his knees.
"There's not much to say really. They're vampires. Evil scowly creatures with pointy teeth."
More scribbling.
"Hmmm..and what do you do to these vampires?"
Buffy shifted her gaze to the doctor's eyes. " I slay them."
The doctor held her gaze for an uncomfortable moment then continued feverishly attacking his notepad.
"How, exactly, do you 'slay' them?" He enquired. 'Slay' was spoken with a slightly different intonation, as if the word was out of place, a visitor from another sentence.
Buffy spoke calmly but without warmth. " There are various ways but a stake through the heart usually does the trick."
At this the doctor's eyebrows raised to a degree where they could have conceivably been called a hairline. "The heart.." He murmured. There ensued some residual beard stroking. "These vampires, are they generally of both sexes?"
The young woman thought for a moment. "Yes. Well, you know, I hadn't really considered it before but they seem to be mostly men. Or were men." She corrected herself.
It was an unseasonably warm September day outside and, though the blinds covering the windows kept out most of the heat, Buffy was beginning to feel a little stifled.
The office was large but the space seemed to be reserved in its entirety for the myriad of books that existed, both in massive sets of wooden shelves and on the floor in random piles around the edge of the room. The impression was that the books had decided that they were no longer content with the mediocrity of being stored on a shelf and were encroaching upon the rest of the office with a view to an eventual conquest.
The doctor regarded the young woman clinically. She was friendly enough but his agenda did not include making friends or being a shoulder to cry on. "Buffy, I'd like to change the course of our session if I may. I'm aware of your mother's recent passage but I'd like you to tell me about your father."
The slayer lowered her head slightly, enough to indicate that this question carried some weight. "We don't see him." She stated flatly. "He left and he doesn't come back." Suddenly she looked younger, vulnerable almost. It was as if the doctor had got beneath her guard. Buffy's eyes softened. She felt sucker punched. "I don't want to talk about him."
The doctor scribbled and performed some considerably heavy exhaling but respected his patient's wishes. "Very well."
"Do you have any siblings?"
"Just one. Dawn. She's sixteen."
The psychiatrist detected a hesitence but decided that this avenue was worth pursuing. "Please tell me about the relationship between the two of you."
"Relationship.." Buffy mused. She shifted and the couch groaned disapprovingly. "Relationship. Well it's kind of difficult to explain but Dawn wasn't really there for most of my life, she just came into being in the last couple of years. Don't get me wrong, she feels like a sister and we get on fine and everything but I haven't really known her for very long."
The girl nodded sincerely as if this was supposed to make sense. The doctor nodded thoughtfully as if it all did.
"You..haven't known her for very long. Do you feel love for her?"
"Oh yes." Nodded Buffy with a smile, "I died for her. Well, for the world as well but mostly for Dawn."
The scribbling, which had been a feature of the exchange, stopped. "You died for her? Please explain." The doctor was attempting to maintain a professional detachment but his voice betrayed a hint of interest.
"It's not as complicated as it sounds. One of us had to make the sacrifice and there's no way I was going to let Dawn do it.. She's just a kid."
"So I died. I rose. I keep fighting the good fight."
The doctor set his notebook aside and leaned forward, his hands on his knees. "Buffy our time is almost up but before we finish I'd like to share with you a few preliminary thoughts. Is that ok?"
"Fire away." The slayer responded with a smile.
The man ran a finger across thin lips, inhaling audibly as he did so. "Buffy I think that life has been very tough for you recently. Things have happened that you had very little control over. The fact that you have created a rich fantasy world where you kill vampires.."
"Slay." Interupted Buffy.
"Slay vampires." He continued. "Indicates that you are looking for a reality in which you have a greater level of control, where you have the choice. In this extreme manifestation the decision of life or death is yours to make. This is also evidenced in your description of your sister but let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet."
"I also believe quite strongly that you harbour a great deal of resentment towards your father. You perceive that he doesn't care about you or your sister and you want to punish him for that. I think the reason that your enemies are predominantly male and that you slay them by stabbing them through the heart is your subconscious desire to hurt your father for his absence when you needed him. After all, he has hurt your 'heart', why shouldn't you hurt his?"
The doctor raised a single eyebrow. Buffy gave a polite but nervous smile.
"Your mother's death and your father's absence have forced something of a transformation upon you young lady. You have gone from a carefree young woman to a matriarch, a provider, responsible for another life now. Suddenly you have had to grow up, ready or not. Dawn has only become known to you recently because you see her in a different light. You see her not as your sister but as your child. And your sacrifice, your 'death' if you will, was you bidding farewell to the life you imagined and living the life that fate has dealt for you."
"That you rose from the ashes like a phoenix suggests some kind of martyr complex. You see yourself as responsible for the survival of others. Perhaps you are not ready for this burden?"
"Would you say that you agree with my assessment so far Buffy?"
"No."
"No?"
"Doctor, I'm grateful for your time, really I am." Buffy rose from the couch and walked slowly and deliberately across the room, her heels making echoing taps on the polished floorboards. "But my relationship with fate goes back way longer than I really care to remember."
"And no, I'm not always happy but then who is? In fact, given the crap that I have to go through on an almost daily basis, I think I'm pretty darn well adjusted." Buffy reached the window and paused, turning to face the doctor.
The seated man's face was shrouded in bewilderment but there was a realisation floating around the edges.
"Then why are you here?" He asked.
"Because you're a vampire." Buffy stated matter-of-factly
The doctor hesitated momentarily, as if this was not something that had occurred to him, then his features contorted into a familiar mask of rage and hate. He leapt across the room with a hiss, fangs bared. Buffy, until now, had been holding the bottom of the window blind. She calmly released it allowing sunlight to flood the office.
The vampire made it halfway across the office before exploding into flames, a final twisted shriek announcing his end.
Buffy dusted her hands and walked to the door.
"I guess you'd call that closure." She said with a smile.
"So, Buffy, tell me a little more about these vampire fantasies that you have.."
Buffy lay on the couch looking every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. The supple leather creaked as she shifted position.
"They're not fantasies. They're every bit as real as you or I."
"I apologise. Tell me more about the vampires." The doctor spoke in soft, soothing tones but without any noticeable emotion. He sat next to Buffy in a worn office chair, looking every inch the archetypal psychiatrist. He was middle aged and balding but with an abundance of facial hair as if to compensate. His tweed suit thankfully, did not possess elbow patches but if his dress sense screamed inadequacy his posture oozed intellectual superiority.
And ever since Buffy had mentioned the word 'vampire' he had been scribbling furiously in the notepad resting on his knees.
"There's not much to say really. They're vampires. Evil scowly creatures with pointy teeth."
More scribbling.
"Hmmm..and what do you do to these vampires?"
Buffy shifted her gaze to the doctor's eyes. " I slay them."
The doctor held her gaze for an uncomfortable moment then continued feverishly attacking his notepad.
"How, exactly, do you 'slay' them?" He enquired. 'Slay' was spoken with a slightly different intonation, as if the word was out of place, a visitor from another sentence.
Buffy spoke calmly but without warmth. " There are various ways but a stake through the heart usually does the trick."
At this the doctor's eyebrows raised to a degree where they could have conceivably been called a hairline. "The heart.." He murmured. There ensued some residual beard stroking. "These vampires, are they generally of both sexes?"
The young woman thought for a moment. "Yes. Well, you know, I hadn't really considered it before but they seem to be mostly men. Or were men." She corrected herself.
It was an unseasonably warm September day outside and, though the blinds covering the windows kept out most of the heat, Buffy was beginning to feel a little stifled.
The office was large but the space seemed to be reserved in its entirety for the myriad of books that existed, both in massive sets of wooden shelves and on the floor in random piles around the edge of the room. The impression was that the books had decided that they were no longer content with the mediocrity of being stored on a shelf and were encroaching upon the rest of the office with a view to an eventual conquest.
The doctor regarded the young woman clinically. She was friendly enough but his agenda did not include making friends or being a shoulder to cry on. "Buffy, I'd like to change the course of our session if I may. I'm aware of your mother's recent passage but I'd like you to tell me about your father."
The slayer lowered her head slightly, enough to indicate that this question carried some weight. "We don't see him." She stated flatly. "He left and he doesn't come back." Suddenly she looked younger, vulnerable almost. It was as if the doctor had got beneath her guard. Buffy's eyes softened. She felt sucker punched. "I don't want to talk about him."
The doctor scribbled and performed some considerably heavy exhaling but respected his patient's wishes. "Very well."
"Do you have any siblings?"
"Just one. Dawn. She's sixteen."
The psychiatrist detected a hesitence but decided that this avenue was worth pursuing. "Please tell me about the relationship between the two of you."
"Relationship.." Buffy mused. She shifted and the couch groaned disapprovingly. "Relationship. Well it's kind of difficult to explain but Dawn wasn't really there for most of my life, she just came into being in the last couple of years. Don't get me wrong, she feels like a sister and we get on fine and everything but I haven't really known her for very long."
The girl nodded sincerely as if this was supposed to make sense. The doctor nodded thoughtfully as if it all did.
"You..haven't known her for very long. Do you feel love for her?"
"Oh yes." Nodded Buffy with a smile, "I died for her. Well, for the world as well but mostly for Dawn."
The scribbling, which had been a feature of the exchange, stopped. "You died for her? Please explain." The doctor was attempting to maintain a professional detachment but his voice betrayed a hint of interest.
"It's not as complicated as it sounds. One of us had to make the sacrifice and there's no way I was going to let Dawn do it.. She's just a kid."
"So I died. I rose. I keep fighting the good fight."
The doctor set his notebook aside and leaned forward, his hands on his knees. "Buffy our time is almost up but before we finish I'd like to share with you a few preliminary thoughts. Is that ok?"
"Fire away." The slayer responded with a smile.
The man ran a finger across thin lips, inhaling audibly as he did so. "Buffy I think that life has been very tough for you recently. Things have happened that you had very little control over. The fact that you have created a rich fantasy world where you kill vampires.."
"Slay." Interupted Buffy.
"Slay vampires." He continued. "Indicates that you are looking for a reality in which you have a greater level of control, where you have the choice. In this extreme manifestation the decision of life or death is yours to make. This is also evidenced in your description of your sister but let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet."
"I also believe quite strongly that you harbour a great deal of resentment towards your father. You perceive that he doesn't care about you or your sister and you want to punish him for that. I think the reason that your enemies are predominantly male and that you slay them by stabbing them through the heart is your subconscious desire to hurt your father for his absence when you needed him. After all, he has hurt your 'heart', why shouldn't you hurt his?"
The doctor raised a single eyebrow. Buffy gave a polite but nervous smile.
"Your mother's death and your father's absence have forced something of a transformation upon you young lady. You have gone from a carefree young woman to a matriarch, a provider, responsible for another life now. Suddenly you have had to grow up, ready or not. Dawn has only become known to you recently because you see her in a different light. You see her not as your sister but as your child. And your sacrifice, your 'death' if you will, was you bidding farewell to the life you imagined and living the life that fate has dealt for you."
"That you rose from the ashes like a phoenix suggests some kind of martyr complex. You see yourself as responsible for the survival of others. Perhaps you are not ready for this burden?"
"Would you say that you agree with my assessment so far Buffy?"
"No."
"No?"
"Doctor, I'm grateful for your time, really I am." Buffy rose from the couch and walked slowly and deliberately across the room, her heels making echoing taps on the polished floorboards. "But my relationship with fate goes back way longer than I really care to remember."
"And no, I'm not always happy but then who is? In fact, given the crap that I have to go through on an almost daily basis, I think I'm pretty darn well adjusted." Buffy reached the window and paused, turning to face the doctor.
The seated man's face was shrouded in bewilderment but there was a realisation floating around the edges.
"Then why are you here?" He asked.
"Because you're a vampire." Buffy stated matter-of-factly
The doctor hesitated momentarily, as if this was not something that had occurred to him, then his features contorted into a familiar mask of rage and hate. He leapt across the room with a hiss, fangs bared. Buffy, until now, had been holding the bottom of the window blind. She calmly released it allowing sunlight to flood the office.
The vampire made it halfway across the office before exploding into flames, a final twisted shriek announcing his end.
Buffy dusted her hands and walked to the door.
"I guess you'd call that closure." She said with a smile.