Mutant Enemy Television, Inc. owns pretty much everything within the Buffy universe. My use is in no way meant to challenge any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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Author's Note: I don't know where I got the inspiration to write this, especially a year after the pertinent Buffy episodes aired. Essentially (as if no one's seen a fic like this before), this is my own vision of some of the things Buffy might have been thinking/feeling after Willow et al brought her back from the dead. I apologize to anyone that have written a similar/identical piece. I haven't read anything along these lines, but I find it easy to believe that this could have been done before.
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Lust For Life
by Nevermore
I once read that people who jump from buildings or bridges to commit suicide very often – halfway down and far too late – regret their decision and wish they could take back what they suddenly realize is a mistake. Of course, the first thing that occurred to me when I heard this was, How does anyone know that? After all, if Joe Stockbroker jumps from the top of the Empire State Building at the end of the day, exactly how does anyone find out that somewhere around the 55th Floor he decided suicide probably wasn't the best idea? It's not like anyone would be able to ask him.
So I never put too much stock in that story. I always figured it was just something the religious right made up so that people would be even less likely to kill themselves. Nowadays I'm finding that story far easier to believe, though. It just makes sense in a way it never did before.
I would never, ever really admit this aloud, but I think more than anything else in this world, I just want to die. I've fought the good fight, and I finally got to rest. I wish I could even begin to explain this to my friends, but I don't even think the words exist. None of them have ever experienced the absolute bliss that I felt after I died, so there's no frame of reference. It's like in that Star Trek movie Xander made Willow and me watch with him one time on movie night. I don't remember what it was called, but it was the one with the whales. Anyway, that doctor guy wanted to discuss life and death with Doctor Spock. (Or is it Mr. Spock? I can never keep them straight, but one's a child shrink that Riley talked about once in awhile, and the other is one of Xander's alien role models.) Anyway, Spock essentially said that McCoy would have to die before he could discuss Spock's thoughts about death. That's pretty much the same situation I'm in. How many people do I know that have died? Who could I talk to about this? Besides him, anyway.
So, like I was saying, I want to die. But the thing is that I was in heaven (I think). I don't want to die again unless I go back to the same place. Every second of every day, I can feel a weak echo of what I felt after I died, and I want it back so bad. I want it so bad it hurts. And the worst thing is that every day it seems I forget what it was like just a little more. And I don't want to forget, I just want it back, and I don't know how to get there.
I was never one for Sunday mass, especially not after I became the Slayer (though as I think about it, that's rather strange), but I think I have a firm grasp on the basics as far as right and wrong are concerned. One of the simplest rules is that you can't kill yourself. If you do, you go to hell. Now I've never been to hell, but I've been in some terrible places. And to put it in perspective, hell is a place that should scare the beejesus out of humans, so it has to be absolutely unbearable compared to earth. And after heaven, earth is . . . I don't even have a word to describe what earth is like. It's cold, and dark, and full of misery and pain that makes every cell in my body scream out in despondent agony. If that's what earth feels like after heaven, then I don't even want to think about what hell would be like.
So I want to die, but I can't kill myself. On my first patrol I figured, Hey, no big deal. You fight demons for a living – accidents happen, so they can certainly happen to you. Then I started to wonder what counts as suicide. Obviously, if I bought a .357 and blew my head off, that would count as suicide. But is it suicide if I fight a vamp and give less than 100%? Would I get back to heaven if I simply go through the motions and let a vamp impale me on my own stake? And even if it's a close call in that situation, shouldn't I get bonus points for already having gotten into heaven once already? While we're on the subject, is it even fair for the Powers That Be to go and start keeping score on me again after I've already gotten into heaven? It's not like I chose to leave. In fact, I'm sure whatever god(s) exists could have prevented me from being drawn out of heaven if he/she/it wanted me to stay. But that didn't happen. He/she/it let my friends raise me from the dead, and I think it would be hugely unfair to penalize me now because of their own inaction in preventing Willow and friends from upsetting the natural order of things.
Now comes the hardest part of my confession. My first time out, I actually did fight less than 100%. I wanted to lose when the fight started. I let some half-pint fledgling take the upper hand; I gave him every opportunity to kill me. I even 'dropped' my stake and let him pick it up to use against me. Then, just as he was about to get with the coups d'grace, something in my head demanded that I stop him. This is what I was talking about with the suicide jumpers. In that last instant before I would have died, something in me screamed out to scratch and claw for life. Now doesn't that just about suck? The Powers That Be sure have a sense of humor.
Here I am, with a life – a second chance (or third, for that matter) – that I never asked for. I'm not afraid of death anymore, because I know what comes after, and not only is it not bad, it's joyous beyond words. And I still can't bring myself to part with this mortal coil. Is it because I'm afraid that next time I'll end up somewhere else? Maybe. But I think it's more to do with the nature of this soul that I have. It needs to live; it'll do anything it can to exist on this plane. There's absolutely nothing I can do to voluntarily let myself die.
So here I am with a mind that wants to go back to where it was, and a soul that'll do anything to stay here. I find myself lusting for a life I don't want. Talk about conflicted . . . I wonder what Riley would say about this. So how do I get where I want to go? And if I can't get there, how can I ever possibly learn to be happy where I am?
Fin