Mad World

Disc: None

Last Chapter. I throughly enjoyed this ride, as bumpy as it was. Any questions, confusion about the end, just send me a message.

For a moment, for a brief, quiet moment in my head, in my mind, in the endless continuum of time, I felt beautifully human. I was no longer the monster parents hid from their children at night. I was no longer the evil, dark shadow of the world. I was not a convict, a fugitive, alone. I was the figure God's hands had shaped around me and I was standing point centre of Rest field Cemetery. My legs burned like a flame hid beneath the skin, though no wounds would appear. I had, as pushed myself, run the whole way, run to Buffy, to Sunnydale. And here I was. Here, I had made it in equal time. What I found was the only difference in my plans.Headstones.

Four of them. Each placed strategically close to the other, all with the same sort of epitaph. They read easy like 'Dawn Elaine Summers, A gift from God, the youngest of the Angels'. I read all of them, none many made sense. Although I hadn't been home, in Sunnydale, for a long, long time. So, what did this mean? All of Buffy's friends were dead, and they were the ones who needed her.

I looked at the date on the stones, and they all read a year or so ago.

Why did Buffy come to jail?

Why did Buffy need me?

What was my purpose in this whole scheme? I was beginning to wonder.

I didn't like looking at the graves, so I stopped. They were all too confusing. I turned away and nearly stepped into a freshly dug plot, not yet covered. Clumsily, I slipped away and backed through the endless rows of tombstones.

"Took you long enough."

I looked around, but I didn't need to. I knew who was standing behind me with her arms crossed neatly over her chest, leaning back against the trunk of a tree, her legs in a pair beside her.

"What's happening?" I was desperate, my voice cracked with a slight whimper because I was scared. I didn't know what was happening, I didn't know what this was all about, but she had answers. And I wanted them.

She laughs at me. She looks at the ground like a shy little girl and laughs at me. "Haven't you figured this out yet, Faith?" She moves away from the tree and starts to come closer. I step back. I don't want her near me. Not until I know what this is. "Seen the reports? The newspapers come by your doorstep lately?"

I shake my head.

Buffy nods towards the tombstones. "They've been dead for … almost two years now." She stops, smiling towards my direction, "Right about the time you went to jail."

…

No, see--

I—

"Don't worry," She breaks our pregnant silence, she's in my mind "You didn't kill them." Her smile fades, falters, and turns into a stripe of remorse. She fingers the corners of one of the graves. "I did."

She killed them. At least I didn't. Good. Good. I'm not completely gone. I didn't slip. I'm still here.

"But," Her voice returns to my ears, "I'm sure you can figure out the rest yourself, right?"

Can I? I don't know. No, I'm scared. I sat down on the ground, looking up at her like a child, like a useless human being because that's what I felt like. That's what I was. She stands up over me, her hands at her sides, and she continues. "I was on the run. That's why I came to jail, to you, Faith. Because I had killed my friends. You were the only oneI could go to, who would undersand.I turned myself in after one year. That's why we were together." She smiled as she almost whispered the last part, kneeling down beside me, coming so, so close, not touching though.

"But then, you." Me. "You …" She doesn't know how to keep going, so she lifts up the sleeve of her shirt and shows me the bruises. Oh, those ones, God, the ones I had seen, the ones she had denied me an explanation for. Me? "… Snapped." I snapped. I… me…. Gave those to her…. Snapped.

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, Faith. You. And then you killed me."

I? Killed her… I killed Buffy A. Summers, I did. Me. Me. Me. I did.

The only word I can manage is "Why?"

She doesn't know, she says. But I forgive you. Then, with sympathy, she whispers into my ear, "You're insane, Faith."

Am I? Is all of this, their deaths, her death, real? If I killed her, why is she here, sitting beside me, holding my head in her hands, telling me the truth? Oh, because I'm insane.

"Maybe it was for the best though. I killed them because I was scared. There was a… God, coming for us. And I killed them so they wouldn't suffer. So that they wouldn't have any pain to go through because there had been enough. Between all of us. I hope they understood. And then, you, Faith, loved me. And I loved you, but you're sick. You're crazy and we couldn't be together. You wouldn't let us. You killed me."

I look up at her and ask what she is. "Your mind. I am your mind, just telling you what you already knew, just wouldn't let yourself believe."

Oh. And I guess it makes sense. Me, being insane and all, seeing not her. I look over at the grave I nearly fell into before, the uncovered one. And the headstone says it's Buffy's.

Sucker love is heaven sent

You pucker up, our passion's spent

My heart's a tart your body's rent

My body's broken yours is spent

She's happy then, right? She is… gone. But she's happy because she did something bad and maybe I helped her find peace. Maybe. And I'm starting to remember. Ducking around when I returned from solitary, my fist in her face, my leg pinning her to the ground. I remember killing her too. I remember shoving her head into the wall, doing it too many times to count, losing count after I tried, then tossing the body on the bed. Bloody sheets.

Carve your name into my arm

Instead of stressed I lie here charmed

Cause there's nothing else to do

Every me and every you

I hope she understands. If I'm lucky she'll understand and forgive me. The real her, not just my mind. She must have been insane too, killing all of her friends. Her reasons are always valid though. Mine, like killing Buffy, are not. My mind Buffy holds me still, whispering into my ear about the time we did have together, though it was spent in a cell, along a too small bed. It's going to be with me for a long time, I know. This mind Buffy. It's going to follow me back to Stockton where they'll finally tell me I'm crazy and feed me pills all day long. I'll finally be with the Buffy I deserve to be with, and I won't hurt her anymore. I'll sleep beside her at night and treasure each movement she makes, even though it will only be my mind. And I suppose that's what makes me insane. And I lay down beside it, laying my head upon its chest. And that's how they found me the next morning, me lying beside Buffy Summer's grave. They'll take me back home.

I serve my head up on a plate

It's only comfort calling late

Cause there's nothing else to do

Every me and Every you

Every me and Every You

Every me

Every me and Every you

Every me