/Nightswimming deserves a quiet night/ The water is cold when I slip in, but I don't really notice. It registers on my skin, but it's unimportant. Just another factor to filter in and out. The past week has brought on more questions than I have answers. More pain than I have remedying. More confusion than I can circumspect. More grief than I have tears. Have you ever cried so much that you've dried up inside? Have you ever shed all of your tears for something so completely, that you had no tears left to shed for a pain that was greater than before? I have. When Buffy told me that mommy - our mother - was dead, I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I just sort of.. broke down inside. Hollow and cold. I wrapped trembling arms around myself - a form I knew was not truly real. I knew she wasn't really my mother, and for that reason - for that very reason - I couldn't cry. All my tears were lost for myself. /The photograph on the dashboard Taken years ago Turned around backwards So the windshield shows Every streetlight reveals The picture in reverse Still, it's so much clearer/ I think.. I am a terrible person. Then I think.. I'm not even really a person. Should I really have these feelings? Are they real? Am I allowed? Could I stop them if I tried? Do the others look at me strangely when I cry, because.. they know I'm not real? Does some tiny part of them twist inside with resentment when I am comforted in lieu of Buffy, because she is the reality and I am merely a forged memory? Am I real enough to count? Sometimes - most times - I don't think so. No. Not anymore. I loved my mother. I still do. I love Buffy. I love my daddy. I love all of them.. Willow, Xander, Tara, Anya, Giles.. Spike. I think.. right now.. I love Spike most of all. He understands. Even if he denies it and pushes me away, I know he understands. He's been there. The forgotten child. Cast aside in favor of another. Frowned upon for acting rashly. Chastened for being stupid and wrong and impetuous and.. all of it. He tells me stories, and he thinks I only listen to them for the scare-factor. Sure, that's fun enough.. but what he doesn't realize is how much of himself he puts into his words. And not just Spike bravado.. his *real true* self. The old poet. William. He lights up when he weaves his words. It makes him happy. It makes me happy. I like talking to Spike because, I feel we have one very important thing in common - We both walk in this reality, yet we aren't really a part of it. We exist here, only because another allows it. We are anomalies. We are judged purely because of what we are, not really who we are. He is a vampire. I am this.. key. We have these unshakable titles, and that's who we are. It's not right, but ignorance is bliss. Spike is the only one I can really relate to, and he's the one that truly broke my heart. /I forgot my shirt at the water's edge The moon is low tonight Nightswimming deserves a quiet night/ Bloody hell. What does she think she's doin'? She'll catch her death, and then the Slayer will have yet *another* bloomin' thing to slam my nose into the stucco for. How the hell did she find out about this place, anyway? Chit shouldn't be out in these woods at all alone, let alone this late at night. I wasn't lyin' when I said there were lots of big nasties just waitin' to get a taste of her. Good thing I came along, 'eh? Not that I care what happens to her. On a personal level, that is. She's just some kid.. who happens to be fundamental to all of existence as we know it, but that's bloody beside the point. Not like I haven't had my hand in one or three Armageddon's in my time, so why's this time so bleedin' special? Christ on a cross, Will. You're arguing with yourself. You can't keep secrets from *me*. You like her. She's.. calming. She doesn't judge. She.. seems to understand. She doesn't grind your bloody nose into the wall like some bint to a dog whose done his business on the new white carpet, 'eh? She's the better part of the Slayer; the part that's accessible to you, at least. And sod it all if she's not real. /They cannot see me naked These things they go away Replaced by everyday/ She scares me sometimes. I catch her lookin' at me and I *know* - I just bloody well know that she sees right through me. It's damned disconcerting, I'll tell you that. This little 14-year-old bird staring at me like she's the know-it-all bloody Dhali Llama. Then I get all flustered and blotchy and I can't very well yell at her, because then she'd go away.. and then I'd be alone again. It's like I said to the Slayer, all those years ago.. We like to talk big; vampires do. Yeah, I talk a big talk, I walk a big walk - doesn't mean I don't get lonely. If anyone - vampires know loneliness. I ache it, I cry it, I am loneliness sodding personified. But I know I'll always be lonely. Comes with the territory. 'Welcome to Club Immortality. You've won the door-prize! An eternity of detachment and loneliness! Please see someone who gives a rat's ass for more information.' So.. I guess maybe I'll just sit here and keep an eye out for her, you know? Just to.. make sure. To make sure she's okay. /Nightswimming Remembering that night/ I have.. this theory. I've never told anyone about it. Not Buffy.. not even Spike. Glory needs the key for whatever evil she's planning, right? And.. the key is me.. so, what if I were suddenly.. gone? What would happen? Would she just leave, and would everyone be safe? From what I can gather, I'm pretty much unique. If I wasn't, Glory wouldn't be so hell-bent on finding me. No pun intended. To be completely honest with myself, which I am.. I'm not necessary anymore. A point to fact - everything would be much better *without* me. Buffy would be getting the attention she deserves as the true flesh and blood daughter, and Glory would leave. They'd all be safe and everything would be truly *right*. I'm wrong here. I'm rippling things. Just like the water. Even if I stay perfectly still, the water still ripples. My slightest breath causes a movement, and that disturbs everything. Now, if I were to remove myself from the lake, the water would be still. I don't like to cause eddys. So I say my goodbyes as the water covers my head. /And what if there were two Side by side in orbit Around the fairest sun? Nightswimming/ Bloody stars. They mock me, you know. They hum and twinkle and sing to me. They remind me of Dru. One star for a life. No wonder she spoke to them. I've heard that every soul has a star. Does that mean I have one? Does that mean that, when a human dies, they never get to see their star? Bloody shame if you ask me. Speaking of - Cor, where'd she get off to, now? Tread closer, but make no sound. The water is quiet, but she's still here. She's not gone away - I can still smell her. I can still smell - No. Tiny hand, floating to the surface. Water rippling ever so slightly at it's broken exterior. Rebelling at the intrusion. But I knew that this would be the last time Dawn ever caused a ripple here. Oh, God. Damn it all to hell, but she looks like she's asleep. Peaceful and quiet. Just like I remember her. Hair drifting about small shoulders like seaweed. Floating silently on her back, moonlight gleaming on her naked skin. It seemed a sin to look. It seemed a sin to look away. I watched her for a long time. I watched as her skin turned pearlescent and her lips, toes, and fingertips turned blue. Fingertips that curled around an unseen root or branch. I'm sure that's how she anchored herself to the bottom of this damnable lake. Closer. The water lapped at the edge of my boots, but she simply floated in the middle of the lake, like fucking Viviane, Lady of the bloody Lake. A king I am not. But lonely.. once again. /You - I thought I knew you You - I cannot judge You - I thought you knew me This one laughing quietly underneath my breath Nightswimming/ I know that I am unnecessary, perhaps as much as Dawn thought herself. But whereas Dawn made a rash assumption, I have concrete knowledge. I have the years to back it up. She's had.. days. But I don't blame her. I'm actually fairly surprised she held on as long as she did. I can't even begin to fathom being in her shoes. Oh well. This is all past now. No reason to dwell on things that won't make a difference once the sun rises. No reason to go on pretending the loneliness doesn't hurt. It does. So badly. So very badly. Too bad my only refuge is lying dead in the middle of a lake. Good one, God. So, I'll just wait. I can wait. I've waited 130 years.. I can wait a few more hours. Maybe there is a Heaven. I know there's a Hell. Who knows were I'll end up? Hopefully.. just hopefully.. I won't feel lonely anymore. Hopefully.. I just won't feel. /Nightswimming deserves a quiet night Deserves a quiet night.. /
