Wake Me Up
by Lynne C.
To see this story in its complete and correct format, go to http://www.geocities.com/fic_girl_2003/index.html
Rating: R
Disclaimer: It's all Joss' -- I worship at the altar of his genius, and acknowledge that he owns all these folks and
everything that they do and say.
Setting/Spoilers: post-Storyteller (7.16); post-Lies My Parents Told Me (7.17); post-Chosen (7.22) ~ no real
episode spoilers -- this is all setting.
Summary: A song brings Buffy to catharsis.
Acknowledgements: Thanks Xionin for your editorial input (aka "beta"). Thanks as well for your own great
writing, which I take as both challenge and inspiration. Quotations from episode transcripts found at
www.Buffyworld.com.
She couldn't really remember exactly when she'd heard the song on the radio for the first time. It was probably
sometime after she'd used Andrew to shut down, as it turned out, just temporarily, the Seal of Danthazar. But she
wasn't certain. The tune was the kind that stuck with you, and she'd hum along with it when it came on. It wasn't until
some weeks later that she'd really ~heard~ the song for the first time. As in, really listened to the words. She recalled
that incident very clearly, as she remembered many moments in those final days of Sunnydale. It had been the day
before Faith's return. Or, more specifically, it had been the night that Willow was in Los Angeles. She knew it
because she'd wished so desperately that her friend had been there, not necessarily so that she could truly unburden
herself, but she knew that Willow would sense her anguish, and offer sympathy and comfort, even in the absence of a
detailed explanation.
She'd locked herself in the bathroom, indulging in some rare and much-needed privacy; a Mr. Bubble oasis in the midst
of the three-ring-circus that was her home. She'd even lit a couple of candles, though one of them seemed to have
burned right down the wick in the first five minutes, and fizzled out. No matter -- the one that remained had
symbolized carefree relaxation, indulgent luxury -- a day spa in a votive cup. It even had an earthy fragrance that she
couldn't identify, but reminded her a bit of the days when she could afford (courtesy of the bank of Mom) to buy the
expensive facial scrubs and body polishes.
She'd turned the radio on, climbed in, and proceeded to soak and daydream and generally clear her mind. The water
had turned quite tepid, and she was prune-y enough that she was contemplating getting out when it had come on. And
because she wasn't doing anything else that required her attention, the words penetrated. And they so spoke to her
emotional state of a year before that she almost couldn't breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bring Me To Life ~ Evanescence
how can you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where I've become so numb without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become
now that I know what I'm without
you can't just leave me
breathe into me and make me real
bring me to life
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become
frozen inside without your touch without your love darling only you are the life among the dead
all this time I can't believe I couldn't see
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
got to open my eyes to everything
without a thought without a voice without a soul
don't let me die here
there must be something more
bring me to life
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become (Bring me to life)
I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside (Bring me to life)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her heart had squished painfully, before beginning to
pound against her ribs. She'd sat up, gripping the side of the tub, half ready to fly to the radio and turn it off, but unable
to tear herself away from the words that so described both her sense of isolation, and the effect of the one person who
held it at bay.
The song was her affair with Spike in a nutshell.
In the end, she'd sat with her face in her hands, breathing hard as she relived fragments of those months.
She'd been taken so unawares by her reaction to Spike. She'd not even questioned why she sought him out after her
resurrection. But he made her dormant spirit hum, more so with each new level of intimacy that she initiated. It was
terrifying, not just because it was Spike, but because the contrast was so acute between her utter lack of feeling, and the
sudden maelstrom of all of them at once. She'd touch him, kiss him, fuck him -- and feel all the anger and sadness and
loss, against the backdrop of a passion whose origin and nature she couldn't even begin to understand. Had she always
had a spark of attraction for Spike? Did she have one for all vampires, as part of the mojo that was the basis of the
whole Slayer package??
He'd once told her that theirs was a dance; and that she was a little bit in love with death. Was that why he electrified
her? Was it that her very being cried out to return to the grave, and so drew her closer and closer to that instrument of
death to which the Slayer was most keenly attuned? Is that why she wasn't driven to consummate her growing hunger
for Spike until she knew that he could harm her if he chose?
Yet, if she was really seeking death, how ironic that it was only in a dead man's bed that she'd really felt alive. Well,
more like on his carpets, tables, sarcophagus -- up against his wall. Hardly ever in his bed. But still....
Then again, Spike had ceased to be like any other vamp a long time before. Though she'd found that he could hurt her,
kill her -- hell, even turn her, if he'd wanted, she had believed in her heart that he wouldn't. Of course, she'd also cared
just little enough that she had been willing to risk being wrong. She'd certainly provided him every opportunity....
Words from days long past had washed over her -- snatches of conversations she'd tried to forget:
"I can fool Giles, and I can fool my friends, but I can't fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason..."
Wake me up inside
"You can't love without a soul."
"Oh, we can, you know. We can love quite well. If not wisely."
Wake me up inside
"Buffy, if you're in ... if you're in pain ... or if you need anything... or if I can do anything for you..."
"...Everything here is ... hard, and bright, and violent."
call my name and save me from the dark
"What's wrong?! You were gonna help me! You, you were gonna beat heads and, and, and fix my life!"
bid my blood to run
"This isn't real/
But I just want to feel"
before I come undone
"Tell me you love me..."
save me from the nothing I've become
"Being with you ... makes things ... simpler. For a little while -- and it's killing me"
without a thought without a voice without a soul
don't let me die here
there must be something more
bring me to life
She'd said that being with him was killing her. But that hadn't been it at all. Being with him had been the only thing
keeping her going ~ her shame in that fact was what had been killing her. It was all just so confusing, really -- her
feelings then, her feelings now. So different, but still... She hadn't really realized how much of the previous year she
had buried under her newfound desire to get on with this life of hers. Until it all came flooding back, unlocked by the
raw words of the song. She'd walked in the shadow of the valley of despair -- and because Spike was her only solace
from that suffering, she'd given him reason to hope. Her denial of that hope had provoked Spike's own crisis, from
which had stemmed...everything since.
She'd had no idea how long she'd sat there, lost in her reverie, when at last she'd surfaced from it. An irritating
commercial for a used car dealership had penetrated the tangle of memory and emotion, and returned her to her
bathtub, where she sat with precious few bubbles left around her and her flesh gone goose bump-y. She'd climbed
mechanically out of the tub, pulling the stopper lever, and tried to focus on the sound of the water draining, attempting
to calm the riot in her breast that was now raging just below the surface.
Her usual grooming rituals had followed then out of habit, the girlish enthusiasm that she'd summoned up an hour or so
prior replaced by the sober recollection of how bad off she'd been.
~ / ~
It turned out that Sunnydale and the Hellmouth and Anya and Amanda and Chao-Ahn and Spike had had just seven
days to live. So much had happened in that short span of time, but she'd somehow, improbably, managed to make the
most of it. She'd certainly gone into it more aware than ever of how far she'd come in the two years since her death.
She and Spike hadn't spoken of their dark times. But in those final nights when they'd held and comforted one
another, they had shared a profound peace that served to point up how long ago and far away those bleak days had
receded, for both of them. She was able to see the change for what it was, something akin to a miracle -- particularly in
that they had both survived it to find themselves chastely wrapped in one another's arms in her basement on the eve of
yet another "final" battle.
Later, when she'd begun to wrap her head around their victory and the fact that it was due entirely to Spike's sacrifice,
she was supremely grateful to the words that had served as a catalyst for her to better understand that ugly time of her
life. She was grateful, but she couldn't bear to listen to it anymore. No one else seemed to notice that when it was
played, she would immediately stop whatever she was doing, and either change the radio station, or have business out
of earshot.
But she'd already learned its lesson. And she knew that despite the pain of all of it, she could finally embrace the life
that she'd been brought to, over and over again....
by Lynne C.
To see this story in its complete and correct format, go to http://www.geocities.com/fic_girl_2003/index.html
Rating: R
Disclaimer: It's all Joss' -- I worship at the altar of his genius, and acknowledge that he owns all these folks and
everything that they do and say.
Setting/Spoilers: post-Storyteller (7.16); post-Lies My Parents Told Me (7.17); post-Chosen (7.22) ~ no real
episode spoilers -- this is all setting.
Summary: A song brings Buffy to catharsis.
Acknowledgements: Thanks Xionin for your editorial input (aka "beta"). Thanks as well for your own great
writing, which I take as both challenge and inspiration. Quotations from episode transcripts found at
www.Buffyworld.com.
She couldn't really remember exactly when she'd heard the song on the radio for the first time. It was probably
sometime after she'd used Andrew to shut down, as it turned out, just temporarily, the Seal of Danthazar. But she
wasn't certain. The tune was the kind that stuck with you, and she'd hum along with it when it came on. It wasn't until
some weeks later that she'd really ~heard~ the song for the first time. As in, really listened to the words. She recalled
that incident very clearly, as she remembered many moments in those final days of Sunnydale. It had been the day
before Faith's return. Or, more specifically, it had been the night that Willow was in Los Angeles. She knew it
because she'd wished so desperately that her friend had been there, not necessarily so that she could truly unburden
herself, but she knew that Willow would sense her anguish, and offer sympathy and comfort, even in the absence of a
detailed explanation.
She'd locked herself in the bathroom, indulging in some rare and much-needed privacy; a Mr. Bubble oasis in the midst
of the three-ring-circus that was her home. She'd even lit a couple of candles, though one of them seemed to have
burned right down the wick in the first five minutes, and fizzled out. No matter -- the one that remained had
symbolized carefree relaxation, indulgent luxury -- a day spa in a votive cup. It even had an earthy fragrance that she
couldn't identify, but reminded her a bit of the days when she could afford (courtesy of the bank of Mom) to buy the
expensive facial scrubs and body polishes.
She'd turned the radio on, climbed in, and proceeded to soak and daydream and generally clear her mind. The water
had turned quite tepid, and she was prune-y enough that she was contemplating getting out when it had come on. And
because she wasn't doing anything else that required her attention, the words penetrated. And they so spoke to her
emotional state of a year before that she almost couldn't breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bring Me To Life ~ Evanescence
how can you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where I've become so numb without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become
now that I know what I'm without
you can't just leave me
breathe into me and make me real
bring me to life
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become
frozen inside without your touch without your love darling only you are the life among the dead
all this time I can't believe I couldn't see
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
got to open my eyes to everything
without a thought without a voice without a soul
don't let me die here
there must be something more
bring me to life
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside (I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside (Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark (Wake me up)
bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)
before I come undone (Save me)
save me from the nothing I've become (Bring me to life)
I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside (Bring me to life)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her heart had squished painfully, before beginning to
pound against her ribs. She'd sat up, gripping the side of the tub, half ready to fly to the radio and turn it off, but unable
to tear herself away from the words that so described both her sense of isolation, and the effect of the one person who
held it at bay.
The song was her affair with Spike in a nutshell.
In the end, she'd sat with her face in her hands, breathing hard as she relived fragments of those months.
She'd been taken so unawares by her reaction to Spike. She'd not even questioned why she sought him out after her
resurrection. But he made her dormant spirit hum, more so with each new level of intimacy that she initiated. It was
terrifying, not just because it was Spike, but because the contrast was so acute between her utter lack of feeling, and the
sudden maelstrom of all of them at once. She'd touch him, kiss him, fuck him -- and feel all the anger and sadness and
loss, against the backdrop of a passion whose origin and nature she couldn't even begin to understand. Had she always
had a spark of attraction for Spike? Did she have one for all vampires, as part of the mojo that was the basis of the
whole Slayer package??
He'd once told her that theirs was a dance; and that she was a little bit in love with death. Was that why he electrified
her? Was it that her very being cried out to return to the grave, and so drew her closer and closer to that instrument of
death to which the Slayer was most keenly attuned? Is that why she wasn't driven to consummate her growing hunger
for Spike until she knew that he could harm her if he chose?
Yet, if she was really seeking death, how ironic that it was only in a dead man's bed that she'd really felt alive. Well,
more like on his carpets, tables, sarcophagus -- up against his wall. Hardly ever in his bed. But still....
Then again, Spike had ceased to be like any other vamp a long time before. Though she'd found that he could hurt her,
kill her -- hell, even turn her, if he'd wanted, she had believed in her heart that he wouldn't. Of course, she'd also cared
just little enough that she had been willing to risk being wrong. She'd certainly provided him every opportunity....
Words from days long past had washed over her -- snatches of conversations she'd tried to forget:
"I can fool Giles, and I can fool my friends, but I can't fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason..."
Wake me up inside
"You can't love without a soul."
"Oh, we can, you know. We can love quite well. If not wisely."
Wake me up inside
"Buffy, if you're in ... if you're in pain ... or if you need anything... or if I can do anything for you..."
"...Everything here is ... hard, and bright, and violent."
call my name and save me from the dark
"What's wrong?! You were gonna help me! You, you were gonna beat heads and, and, and fix my life!"
bid my blood to run
"This isn't real/
But I just want to feel"
before I come undone
"Tell me you love me..."
save me from the nothing I've become
"Being with you ... makes things ... simpler. For a little while -- and it's killing me"
without a thought without a voice without a soul
don't let me die here
there must be something more
bring me to life
She'd said that being with him was killing her. But that hadn't been it at all. Being with him had been the only thing
keeping her going ~ her shame in that fact was what had been killing her. It was all just so confusing, really -- her
feelings then, her feelings now. So different, but still... She hadn't really realized how much of the previous year she
had buried under her newfound desire to get on with this life of hers. Until it all came flooding back, unlocked by the
raw words of the song. She'd walked in the shadow of the valley of despair -- and because Spike was her only solace
from that suffering, she'd given him reason to hope. Her denial of that hope had provoked Spike's own crisis, from
which had stemmed...everything since.
She'd had no idea how long she'd sat there, lost in her reverie, when at last she'd surfaced from it. An irritating
commercial for a used car dealership had penetrated the tangle of memory and emotion, and returned her to her
bathtub, where she sat with precious few bubbles left around her and her flesh gone goose bump-y. She'd climbed
mechanically out of the tub, pulling the stopper lever, and tried to focus on the sound of the water draining, attempting
to calm the riot in her breast that was now raging just below the surface.
Her usual grooming rituals had followed then out of habit, the girlish enthusiasm that she'd summoned up an hour or so
prior replaced by the sober recollection of how bad off she'd been.
~ / ~
It turned out that Sunnydale and the Hellmouth and Anya and Amanda and Chao-Ahn and Spike had had just seven
days to live. So much had happened in that short span of time, but she'd somehow, improbably, managed to make the
most of it. She'd certainly gone into it more aware than ever of how far she'd come in the two years since her death.
She and Spike hadn't spoken of their dark times. But in those final nights when they'd held and comforted one
another, they had shared a profound peace that served to point up how long ago and far away those bleak days had
receded, for both of them. She was able to see the change for what it was, something akin to a miracle -- particularly in
that they had both survived it to find themselves chastely wrapped in one another's arms in her basement on the eve of
yet another "final" battle.
Later, when she'd begun to wrap her head around their victory and the fact that it was due entirely to Spike's sacrifice,
she was supremely grateful to the words that had served as a catalyst for her to better understand that ugly time of her
life. She was grateful, but she couldn't bear to listen to it anymore. No one else seemed to notice that when it was
played, she would immediately stop whatever she was doing, and either change the radio station, or have business out
of earshot.
But she'd already learned its lesson. And she knew that despite the pain of all of it, she could finally embrace the life
that she'd been brought to, over and over again....