onepassingnight | second stake.

[Buffy is sitting on an unweildy tower, looking out over the edge. This is where she died, and where Dawn almost had. It's a cloudy day and she wishes the rain would just fall and get it over with instead of taunting her with its heavy cumulus. She knows, logically, she could probably make the Sun come out, or even make the rain come, if it was what she wanted-- but she's sick of being in control. She wants the world back with its unpredictable and even sometimes cruel ways. She wants the real Earth beneath her and the real sky over her and all the messed up stuff in between. She wants to feel love and hate and trust and hurt. She wants her life back.

But she doesn't, all the same. Spike, her mom's death, Dawn.... So many things held a giant question mark, and things were good here. Great, even. She could be with Angel without fear, and she had made friends she could visit whenever she wanted. The only question she had left at the end of her long think-y process was simply, Was it more selfish to stay, or to go?]

Just go away. Get your own tower of feel-bad. [she murmurs when you approach, curling around herself.]

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It's a hypothetical tower.

They must not make those hypothetical towers like they used to, if it's worse than this. [The tower creaks ominously as if it agrees with her evaluation.]

You don't know the half of it. [He comes closer, but not too close because god damn this tower is some rickety ass shit.]

[Buffy takes a breath, before turning to look at him - just a second.]

Come on, take a load off. Best and roomiest hypothetical tower in town.

[He comes even closer, carefully lowering himself down to take a seat next to Buffy.]

I think this one's more of a literal tower. Seeing how it's real and all. ... Real-ish.

[She drops her head on his shoulder, shrugging the big shrug about realishness.]

Does that mean it goes good with hotdogs?

[He actually cracks a smile at that.] I wouldn't know. I'm not much of a hot dog-eating type. Or eating in general-type.

They have support groups for that, you know.

I don't think I'd be very welcome at Vampires Anonymous. ... Or whatever else you meant when you said that.

Edited 2011-04-05 05:17 (UTC)

Because you have a soul? That's not very open-minded of them.

Most vampires tend to be not-so-much with the open-minded.

You may not believe this, but I know a thing or two about vampires and their mindedness.

I wasn't trying to say that you didn't.

[She curls into him as the tower shudders again.]

I know. Sorry. I usually leave the brooding to the professionals.

I didn't mean to -- do you want to talk?

There's not much to talk about. [She rests her head against his heart, listening to it not beat.]

Well you can always talk about ... not much with me. If you want.

[She knew that. She also knew this time felt borrowed; even stolen. It was unfair, but she couldn't stop wanting it. They could have everything, right here, and she had to screw it up by being sad.]

Willow's been trying to bring me back to life. [Her voice was slightly muffled, because that was a good place to start with the headline of 'Not Much.']

How does she plan on doing that? [He has an idea of what it is. ie, ~*dark magic*~. And it's really not okay.]

I didn't exactly ask for the playbook, though looking back, maybe I should've.

Yeah. I don't know. Do you ... want to be alive again?

... I don't know. [She sighs, resting her hand on his stomach.] Is that a fair answer?

It is. I don't think anybody really knows. [hey wait ... ] So I guess it was stupid of me to ask.

If nobody knows... then how am I supposed to know-- you know. What to know?

[That gives her pause and she looks up a little, shaking her head.] Not stupid. Not even remotely stupid-like.

Life is ... worth living. [/deep thoughts from angel.] I'd give anything to be human again, so. Maybe that means something. It's life-ish. I don't know.