Disclaimer: All belong to Joss; I'm just borrowing.
Authors Notes: I know the whole 'Normal Again' scenario is one of the episodes that has had so many takes on it but I just had to write my own.
Summary: After 'Normal Again' Buffy finds that the real world is way more familiar than she thought.
When I next opened my eyes it was quiet. The room was dark except for the shard of light that escaped from the corridor outside. I looked down and found I was still wearing the hospital gown. Creasing my forehead in thought I struggled to remember what had happened. How I'd got here. My head was too full and what was in it wasn't making too much sense. I remembered some demon, but now I remembered him twice, I'd seen him before, before he'd poisoned me this time, but where? It felt like a long time ago and also like it was recent somehow, but then I was sure I was confusing it with when he'd poisoned me in Sunnydale and my head hurt from my jumbled thoughts.
Then they turned to my friends and it was difficult not to call for their help, but they weren't here were they? At least I knew I'd not killed them, I stopped that demon before it killed them but before I'd got the antidote I'd woken up here again and I knew I wouldn't be going back to them. That was a couple of days ago and my doctor couldn't believe I was now completely lucid. He and my parents regarded it as some miracle and I knew that whatever the hell had happened it wasn't a miracle. I had my own theories, but none I was sharing with my doctor or anyone else. I'd decided that I needed to be believably sane to be able to get out of here as quickly as possible and while I knew I was sane, it didn't mean that my doctor would be of the same frame of mind if I cared to share all of my thoughts following my 'awakening'.
My parents. That had been one of the hardest things to deal with. While I knew that this was the world I belonged in, it was hard to discard the memories and feelings of those six years. Mom was here, she hadn't died, Dad was here as well, they were together, which in itself was a strange thing to comprehend and I would be going home soon. As soon as my doctor thought I was ready. He was concerned that I was still very confused and I was, a little anyway. Who wouldn't be after what had happened? The thing was I think the doctor was going to keep me here longer than he might have because he didn't understand what had happened. Muttering about miracles and impossibilities, I thought he could do with some reality checking and a much more open mind. Which was precisely why I was keeping quite a bit to myself about what had gone on. Because while I honestly did believe I belonged here, I couldn't bring myself to dismiss those six years in Sunnydale as a crazed delusion created by my mind.
The other thing that was hard to deal with other than my lack of friends was the non-existence of Dawn. It was hard not to say things about her or ask where she was but I managed to keep myself quiet somehow. To my doctor and my parents, she was simply another delusion but to me she my sister and it was hard to accept that she wasn't around. I had a hard time dismissing her memory.
As much as I tried I couldn't find an explanation, but then I was still a little confused. Not least by some of the things my parents had been talking about, to me and between themselves. Things like getting me back in school; what school? And though I didn't catch all of what they'd talked about, I could tell things weren't great between them. I guessed the stress of me being in here had taken its toll. But still something wasn't sitting right, they looked different, younger I guess and they'd talked about my blowing up the school gym like it had just happened. That was in discussion with the doctor and me. I'd fobbed them off with the explanation that I wasn't sure why I'd done it, for attention, because I was bored or because I was very angry? Those were the theories my parents and the doctor preferred. I think they were leaning toward the idea that I had a personality disorder. I supposed that to them it did explain some of my behaviour.
That thing where I blew up the school felt like so long ago, I supposed that they were talking about it because it had happened just before they put me in here. Was that right? For some reason I recollected two instances when I'd come in here. I'd got out when I'd stopped talking about it, but then.I don't know I seem to have a memory block just there, that I can't get through.
There was also the other thing. That I had blown up the school here. That I had talked about vampires here and then I'd been released once when I'd stopped going on about it. Didn't that mean something? The only answer I could think of was that I was still the slayer and then I got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. What had happened in the six years I'd been in here? Was there another slayer, and had they had to call another because I was in here? And also, why hadn't the council come to get me out? I was sure it was well within their power so why?
The answer came to me quickly and gave me a shock that rivalled discovering I was the slayer. A little over two weeks had passed and I was sat in therapy with my doctor, talking to him quite normally about how I felt fine now and describing my feelings to him. Though boringly tedious I knew it was necessary. I mean I wanted to get out didn't I? I couldn't wait to get out so I went along with everything. I think they were all beginning to get that I was okay now and they weren't giving me medication now, thank god! Anyway, he went out to talk to my parents again and to bring them in. I took the opportunity to look around his office yet again.
It was typically boring, drab; it wasn't surprising, it was the kind of room that is common in hospitals. My eyes came to rest on the calendar behind his desk. It was February, that's strange, I'd thought it was March, I frowned momentarily before realising that whatever had happened in my mind or not, it didn't mean that Sunnydale operated on the same time. Satisfied with my explanation of the month my eyes started to move past it ready to be bored by the objects on the desk when I caught sight of the year in the corner of the calendar. 1996. I did a double take and once again read the same date. That was wrong, why did he have a six-year-old calendar hanging up in his office? There was no way it was right was it? I got up and leaned forward to see if he had the date on his computer screen, as an increasing panic came over me. When I moved the mouse over the time in the bottom right corner of the screen and saw the date, 12th February 1996, I knew that it wasn't the date that was wrong, I was.
Tbc.......
Okay, how was that? I love Feedback so go on, go on, go on go on go on go on!
- Becca.
Authors Notes: I know the whole 'Normal Again' scenario is one of the episodes that has had so many takes on it but I just had to write my own.
Summary: After 'Normal Again' Buffy finds that the real world is way more familiar than she thought.
When I next opened my eyes it was quiet. The room was dark except for the shard of light that escaped from the corridor outside. I looked down and found I was still wearing the hospital gown. Creasing my forehead in thought I struggled to remember what had happened. How I'd got here. My head was too full and what was in it wasn't making too much sense. I remembered some demon, but now I remembered him twice, I'd seen him before, before he'd poisoned me this time, but where? It felt like a long time ago and also like it was recent somehow, but then I was sure I was confusing it with when he'd poisoned me in Sunnydale and my head hurt from my jumbled thoughts.
Then they turned to my friends and it was difficult not to call for their help, but they weren't here were they? At least I knew I'd not killed them, I stopped that demon before it killed them but before I'd got the antidote I'd woken up here again and I knew I wouldn't be going back to them. That was a couple of days ago and my doctor couldn't believe I was now completely lucid. He and my parents regarded it as some miracle and I knew that whatever the hell had happened it wasn't a miracle. I had my own theories, but none I was sharing with my doctor or anyone else. I'd decided that I needed to be believably sane to be able to get out of here as quickly as possible and while I knew I was sane, it didn't mean that my doctor would be of the same frame of mind if I cared to share all of my thoughts following my 'awakening'.
My parents. That had been one of the hardest things to deal with. While I knew that this was the world I belonged in, it was hard to discard the memories and feelings of those six years. Mom was here, she hadn't died, Dad was here as well, they were together, which in itself was a strange thing to comprehend and I would be going home soon. As soon as my doctor thought I was ready. He was concerned that I was still very confused and I was, a little anyway. Who wouldn't be after what had happened? The thing was I think the doctor was going to keep me here longer than he might have because he didn't understand what had happened. Muttering about miracles and impossibilities, I thought he could do with some reality checking and a much more open mind. Which was precisely why I was keeping quite a bit to myself about what had gone on. Because while I honestly did believe I belonged here, I couldn't bring myself to dismiss those six years in Sunnydale as a crazed delusion created by my mind.
The other thing that was hard to deal with other than my lack of friends was the non-existence of Dawn. It was hard not to say things about her or ask where she was but I managed to keep myself quiet somehow. To my doctor and my parents, she was simply another delusion but to me she my sister and it was hard to accept that she wasn't around. I had a hard time dismissing her memory.
As much as I tried I couldn't find an explanation, but then I was still a little confused. Not least by some of the things my parents had been talking about, to me and between themselves. Things like getting me back in school; what school? And though I didn't catch all of what they'd talked about, I could tell things weren't great between them. I guessed the stress of me being in here had taken its toll. But still something wasn't sitting right, they looked different, younger I guess and they'd talked about my blowing up the school gym like it had just happened. That was in discussion with the doctor and me. I'd fobbed them off with the explanation that I wasn't sure why I'd done it, for attention, because I was bored or because I was very angry? Those were the theories my parents and the doctor preferred. I think they were leaning toward the idea that I had a personality disorder. I supposed that to them it did explain some of my behaviour.
That thing where I blew up the school felt like so long ago, I supposed that they were talking about it because it had happened just before they put me in here. Was that right? For some reason I recollected two instances when I'd come in here. I'd got out when I'd stopped talking about it, but then.I don't know I seem to have a memory block just there, that I can't get through.
There was also the other thing. That I had blown up the school here. That I had talked about vampires here and then I'd been released once when I'd stopped going on about it. Didn't that mean something? The only answer I could think of was that I was still the slayer and then I got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. What had happened in the six years I'd been in here? Was there another slayer, and had they had to call another because I was in here? And also, why hadn't the council come to get me out? I was sure it was well within their power so why?
The answer came to me quickly and gave me a shock that rivalled discovering I was the slayer. A little over two weeks had passed and I was sat in therapy with my doctor, talking to him quite normally about how I felt fine now and describing my feelings to him. Though boringly tedious I knew it was necessary. I mean I wanted to get out didn't I? I couldn't wait to get out so I went along with everything. I think they were all beginning to get that I was okay now and they weren't giving me medication now, thank god! Anyway, he went out to talk to my parents again and to bring them in. I took the opportunity to look around his office yet again.
It was typically boring, drab; it wasn't surprising, it was the kind of room that is common in hospitals. My eyes came to rest on the calendar behind his desk. It was February, that's strange, I'd thought it was March, I frowned momentarily before realising that whatever had happened in my mind or not, it didn't mean that Sunnydale operated on the same time. Satisfied with my explanation of the month my eyes started to move past it ready to be bored by the objects on the desk when I caught sight of the year in the corner of the calendar. 1996. I did a double take and once again read the same date. That was wrong, why did he have a six-year-old calendar hanging up in his office? There was no way it was right was it? I got up and leaned forward to see if he had the date on his computer screen, as an increasing panic came over me. When I moved the mouse over the time in the bottom right corner of the screen and saw the date, 12th February 1996, I knew that it wasn't the date that was wrong, I was.
Tbc.......
Okay, how was that? I love Feedback so go on, go on, go on go on go on go on!
- Becca.
