When Buffy awoke the next morning, she held her eyes shut longer than she needed to, squeezed so tight she could see multi-colored stars in the darkness. She began whispering into her pillow.
“When I wake up, I will be in my own bed. Mom will be downstairs, Giles will be mad I’m going to be late to class, and…and Angel will be Angelus, because that’s just how it is.”
She opened her eyes to her dark red and unfamiliar sheets, and winced.
Wishing didn’t make it so.
It took every ounce of energy she had to drag herself out of the soft comfort of her bed. She only made it a few feet before she collapsed in the chair at her vanity, and stared at herself intently in the mirror.
Why were things so much harder today then yesterday? After a night of sleep, things were always supposed to be better, right? A new perspective and all that, get some rest, recharge your batteries.
But today was worse than yesterday, because if she went to sleep, and woke up, and was still in this sick, twisted world, than she was really here. And it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t an illusion, and she had no idea how to get home. Her body was sore, her head still hurt, her heart felt heavy, and her eyes wouldn’t focus. She just wanted to get home, was that so hard?
“Buffy?” William’s voice came through the door tentatively. “I haven’t heard your alarm, and we’ll leave for school in fifteen minutes, yeah?”
“Okay,” she croaked out.
“Are you o—“
“Fine, fine, just woke up late,” she interrupted. “I’ll be right down.”
She heard William walk away and she sighed. After appraising herself in the mirror for a moment, she turned away in disgust. Screw makeup, who was she trying to look good for anyway?
She pulled on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting black tee shirt, neither of which were items she recognized from her wardrobe at home. The clothes were perfectly normal, things she would probably buy, but they felt awkward and scratchy and uncomfortable on her skin. She quickly pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, grabbed her school bag and trudged down the stairs.
“I really don’t think I’m going to class today,” Buffy announced when she entered the kitchen. “We should just buckle down, research like our lives depended on it, which, kind of, mine does, and get me home.”
William frowned. “So I take it this…affliction didn’t fade overnight?”
“You mean the affliction where I’m not where I’m supposed to be? I’m still here aren’t I? So no.”
“You seem less optimistic than you did yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, I am,” Buffy sighed. “The glass has quickly gone from half full to half empty.”
“Well, as your guardian I’d have to say you should go to class,” William began, but at Buffy’s look of barely contained rage, he shifted his answer, “But if you want to research, that’s what I’m willing to do. I’ll run intervention with the principal.”
“Peachy,” she said with forced pep. “Then let’s go.”
She downed a glass of orange juice, refused food despite William’s efforts, and then followed him out to his car. They drove in silence, as they did the night before, and Buffy examined Sunnydale in the light of day as it was in this weird world.
It was completely, exactly the same, down the stop sign on the corner of Maple and 3rd that was slightly crooked, the tree with a heart carved deep into its trunk, and the dilapidated house near the school with the gorgeous garden.
“This is just so weird,” she mumbled to herself.
William parked in what Buffy knew was Giles’s usual spot, and the two made their way through the crowded halls of Sunnydale High.
She recognized some, but not all, of the students. Larry was there, obnoxiously hitting on some girl despite her best efforts to escape, but Jonathan, always present in the student lounge before first period with a book in hand, was nowhere to be seen. The feeling of doom shrouding her heart intensified as the handsome boy she recognized from the pictures in her room came up to her.
“Buffy, can we talk?” He begged, reaching out to grab her arm. She instinctively pulled back and glanced at William for help that didn’t come. “You’re still mad? Look, Buffy, I’m really sorry, and I want to make it up to you.”
“Well…” she started, trying to figure out how best to handle this. “Well, you should be sorry! Very sorry. And, why don’t you continue that…being sorry for awhile longer. Okay, bye!” and she darted off, William following at her heels.
They entered the library and Buffy said, “Okay, who was that?”
“That w-w-was, um,” William stuttered, “Your boyfriend, I believe. Or ex-boyfriend. Mark.”
“Seriously?” she said. “Wow, I have good taste in this dimension. Why’d we break up?”
“Well, I’m not really, sure,” he said awkwardly. “Drusilla would know better than I.”
“Huh. So she and I are, like, really close, then?” Buffy asked. “That’s kind of creepy.”
“I suppose it would be, for you, if what you say is true.”
Buffy started to speak when the girl in question and Angel entered the library, and William ducked into his office to answer his ringing phone.
“Hi Buffy,” Dru said tentatively, her strange accent starting to sound more friendly to the Slayer’s ears, rather than eerie.
“Hi, guys,” she sighed.
“Are we back to normal yet?” Angel asked. At Buffy’s glare, he said, “Guess not.”
“I’m cutting class today, not like that’s an unusual occurrence,” Buffy ignored him. “Going into deep research mode.”
“I found a basic spell to see spells last night,” Drusilla offered. “I can do it after school and we can see if there’s anything mystical around you, holding you to this dimension.”
“Or making her think she’s someone else,” Angel muttered.
“Can we stop with this whole believing Buffy’s a nut job thing? Things would move a lot quicker if you’d accept I just have no idea what’s going on in this fake world. I don’t know who any of you are to me, okay? So just…stop thinking I’m going to remember!” Buffy exploded.
Angel yelled back, “This is not a fake world! God, Buffy, how self-absorbed are you? You’re the one with the problem, not us, and you’re acting like we’re all worthless, just because you don’t remember who we are, and it is seriously starting to piss me off.” He stormed out of the library, leaving Buffy with tears threatening to explode out of her for the millionth time in her recent life.
“He’s just really, you know, still dealing with all the magic stuff, Buffy,” Drusilla said kindly. “Um, you don’t remember this, I guess, but there was this whole thing last year with you, and him, and a love spell…and I think he had a hard time believing it wasn’t really you saying those things to him. So now you’re treating him differently for another reason and I think he wants to believe it’s just a spell, and not something maybe more complicated. And he hates that I do magic.”
Buffy sighed, once again her brain struggled to comprehend the different perspectives of these people she thought she’d just met. “He was right, though, and I’m sorry. I guess…it’s just really hard for me to think of you all as who you are…not who I know you to be? I really make the kind of sense that doesn’t, don’t I?”
“No, I get it,” Drusilla said. “I mean, regardless of the reason, you have honest to God memories of an entirely different reality. That’s…wow, kind of scary, I would think. And fascinating too.” At Buffy’s curious look, the girl blushed. “I mean, not that I’m fascinated by your pain or anything, but just on a purely intellectual level. As a witch, I mean, I don’t--”
“I know what you mean,” Buffy smiled. “You know, you do remind me a lot of Willow…in my other life.” She was careful not to say her real life.
“I’m guessing that’s a good thing?” the dark haired girl said hopefully.
“Yeah, for sure! How long have you been doing magic?”
“Oh, since I was very young. My mother was a very powerful witch, and I guess I inherited a lot of her abilities...I can, well, I have a sort of second sight, which makes magic come very easily.”
“That’s so cool!”
Drusilla blushed and said, “Well, I really should get to class. But I’ll be back at lunch to help you?”
“Thanks,” Buffy said gratefully, then timidly added, “And maybe…we could just hang out, later, if we don’t figure this out right away?”
“Yeah!” Drusilla’s face transformed into a happy smile. “We haven’t hung out in way too long. I mean, well…”
“I know, I know,” Buffy shrugged. “It’s weird. But, we’ll figure it out. We always do!...I mean, we do, right? We usually save the day?”
“Yup! ‘Cause we’re the Scoobies.” With that, Drusilla flounced off, leaving Buffy to mull things over.
“I heard yelling,” William sighed as he emerged from his office. “You and Angel again?”
“Do we do that a lot? Fight?” Buffy asked. “It’s just…wow, he’s so different here. Kind of an asshole, actually.”
“He’s a teenage boy, Buffy,” her Watcher laughed. “They’re almost all like that. I know I was.”
“You mean when you were named Spike?” Her eyes twinkled with curiosity. “You’re really going to have to tell me about that. “
“I rather think not.”
“Oh, I rather think so.”
“Some secrets need to be kept.”
“Come on, Spike!” Buffy giggled. “You must have been pretty crazy to earn that nickname.” Her brow creased for a moment, and she asked tentatively, “There’s no chance you went around wearing a long black leather coat and had bleached white blonde hair, is there?” At his surprised and guilty expression, she jumped up excitedly. “See? How would I know that? If this was some weird delusion, where would that knowledge come from?”
“I…I don’t really know,” William frowned. “Well. That’s…very strange. I just spoke to the Council, explained our situation, and they’re looking into it. So let’s get to research, shall we?”
“Seriously. Let’s.”
[Reviews - 331]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4150 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
The response to this story has been so, so great, and has really inspired me! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! Next chapter probably won't be posted until Thursday or Friday. Fic title from the Weepies, chapter title from Lifehouse. (A note on that, I'm trying my best to find songs with titles that not only work for the fic and dialogue, but that have lyrics that are somewhat meaningful too. I might not always succeed, though, so don't read too much into the song choices.)