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brigdhOkay, even before I write this, I know that there's not much point and that I'm basically spamming my own livejournal, but hell, it's *my* livejournal and I can spam it if I want to. So :P
This is the story of the dream I had last night.
It started at my graduation ceremony, which actually happened Wednesday night, in this little grade-school gym. I was bored and complaining to my best friend that the reception was making me miss Buffy. She told me to go home and watch it, and since I live literally straight across the street from where we were, that would have made sense, but I told her that I'd feel stupid leaving the party to go watch TV.
"Well," she said, "you could always watch it in the parking lot."
Which made me go, "Huh?"
So we walked out into the parking lot, where most of my class had migrated. Some were on the other side, dancing around a DJ (although why the DJ was in the middle of the parking lot and not in the gym, I have no idea...), some were standing around talking, and sure enough, some were watching as Buffy and Xander stood in the middle of the street and discussed the demon they were hunting. My friend and I sat down on the curb and watched them. Unfortunately, it was a pretty boring scene, so we spent the time discussing how hot Spike was.
Just then, the scene ended and Spike appeared. He was on the motorcycle, and we were following him in an aerial shot. Somehow, without crossing an ocean or getting off the motorcycle, we all ended up in Africa, outside a hospital.
It was a weird modern art design (if you've ever seen the Livingston Library here in Columbus, it was just like that), and a pale purple color. On the wall was a giant map of the United States done in dark brown, just the outlines of the states. Above the map it said, "Les Etates-Unis", which is French for 'the United States'. For some reason, I didn't realize it was french. I couldn't figure out where we were. I thought it couldn't be Africa, since we hadn't crossed an ocean. I can remember thinking to myself, "Maybe this is New York and that's Spanish," but then I realized that it was French and that meant that we *had* to be in Africa. That conclusion doesn't really make sense, but whatever.
Next to the map was one of those lists that has the doctors' last names and their room numbers. The only light for miles around was pointed right on that list. Even all of the lights in the hospital were off. The list was right next to the edge of the building, and a dark, empty parking lot was a few feet away. Spike was standing with his back to us, looking from the list to a piece of notebook paper in his hand.
I looked at my friend, and then realized that I had the chance to be in the scene, so I stepped forward and started speaking. I wasn't Buffy, I was still me, except everything that had ever happened to Buffy had happened to me, but I still had had my actual life. I don't know, dream logic.
I called Spike's name, but he didn't turn to look at me. "What are doing here?" I asked.
He handed me the notebook paper without looking at me and started to walk away, toward the parking lot. I glanced at it quickly and saw a scrawled, pencil message. At the top of the page was a photo of what I knew was the demon I had seen Buffy talking about. It looked like one of the California Raisins, only less wrinkly and with scary eyes instead of sunglasses. At the bottom of the message, instead of a signature, was the address http://www.oxygen.com , which apparently is an actual site for that woman's network, but in the dream it was the demon's name. I didn't take the time to read the whole message because I saw the words 'removal of soul' and gasped. I looked up to ask, "Spike...did you... did you get rid of your soul?"
He sighed like he wanted to saw yes, but instead answered, "Not yet." He was in the parking lot, where it was so dark I couldn't see him at all.
Yes, I know Spike doesn't have a soul. Don't ask me were he got this one.
Anyways, I yelled at him for about five minutes, finally ending with "...and besides, you'd still have the chip so you couldn't do anything bad, anyway." At that, he stepped forward and into the light, where I could finally see his face, which was destroyed. It looked like a big pink and red marshmallow. Both of his eyes where black and were so swollen that I couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. His lip was cut and still bleeding.
"Oh my god," I said. "What happened?"
He told me a story about how a demon had come after him for news of the slayer and he had refused to give anything away. I started to cry for him. I cry about five times in this dream, but I'm not like this in real life.
I stepped close to him and did that thing were you trace the air above someone's skin because you know it would hurt too much to actually touch the wound. He didn't say anything, just stared at the ground.
"I can't even see your eyes..." I said. Although it sounds pretty stupid, in the dream it was the saddest, most tragic and most profound thing anyone had ever said. It also made me cry so hard that I couldn't talk. I took another step closer to him and started sobbing into his shoulder, while he awkwardly curled his hands around me because his fingers were broken and he couldn't actually hold me. He didn't cry, but that made it seem even sadder, like he'd been through so much that he didn't even have tears left.
While I was standing there, the scene ended, and so Spike, the hospital and the parking lot all faded away and left me by myself in the parking lot where I'd started, with the reception. I was completely alone. Fifty feet to my left, most of my class was dancing with the DJ, and fifty feet to my right there were a few small clumps of people talking, but there was no one at all between the two groups. I saw my friend in a clump, talking, so I walked over to her, still bawling.
She turned to me and said, "Jeez, it wasn't *that* sad."
I just kinda nodded because I didn't trust myself to form words.
"Well, I guess you can cry on my shoulder," she said, turning back to the other people. I leaned over and sobbed into her shoulder while she carried on a conversation about what she was doing later that night.
After a few minutes, I looked up and wiped my eyes. Right then another close friend walked by and saw me crying.
"What's wrong?" she said. I pointed over my shoulder, and, right on cue, Xander and Willow ran by, chasing something.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "You're obsessed with that show. I wish I had that much time to watch TV."
"Hey!" I said. "I may talk about Buffy a lot, but that's pretty much the only TV I watch. You probably watch more than me in a week."
"Yeah, right. The only time I watch TV is right before or right after I go to see a movie." And then she walked off. I stood looking after her, knowing that I was right, but unable to think of a way too prove it. I felt stupid and like a coach potato, and I could feel tears in my eyes. (The dream-me is such a cry baby.) I walked over to watch the people dancing. It was a slow song, but they were all bunched tightly together. There was one person standing on the edge, watching.
It was Spike. I went and stood right next to him, and he turned to look at me. His face was back to normal, except for the cut on his lip and a scar right beneath his left eye. He held his hand out to me, and we started to dance.
It was that real slow dance, were you just kinda sway back and forth. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he put his head on top of mine, and we just danced for a few minutes.
"I'm sorry I loved you," he said finally, breaking the silence.
I sighed, feeling sad (but not crying!) but knowing that everything would have been easier if he hadn't fallen in love with me.
"I'm sorry I couldn't love you." I said, after a moment. I started to think about how badly he'd been hurt, and every other time that he'd proved he *could* be good.
We swayed for a little longer as I thought, until I suddenly burst into tears,(not more crying!) pressing my face into his leather jacket. "Fuck you, Spike," I whispered.
"I...what?" He said.
"How can be so good that you make me think I can love you, and then be so bad I think I should have staked you long ago?"
"I *am* good." he said, obviously lost but trying to defend himself.
"What about those eggs? What about when you tried to rape me?" The eggs reference is those demons things from the episode with Riley, in case you forgot.
"You won't let me be good. I try and I try, but you've made it very clear that it'll never be enough for you. You won't let yourself love me, you won't give me any hope that it's even possible, and then you expect me to act like Angel. You except me to help your friends, but you don't even say a word when they beat me, over and over, right in front of your face. Do you know how many times Xander's broken my nose?
And I'm defenseless. I've been made lower than *Xander*. And everything I had left, everything that had managed to survive that, I gave to you. And you just want to stand by and watch me be broken. Why? Beacause I'm not good enough? Well, fuck you, Buffy, beacuase I'll never be good enough, and you know it. You could never let me be good enough."
Suddenly, I started to hear rain, even though it wasn't raining in the dream. I realized I was waking up, and tried desperately to stay asleep. I tried to hold onto the dream because I wanted to hear what I'd say to that, but it just faded away faster. I sat up and looked at my clock, and it was only 8AM. On the days I dream about nothing, I sleep till noon, when I want to sleep, I get up four hours after I went to bed.
I'm cursed.
Anyways, that's the story of the most vivid dream I've had in a while. Please don't think I'm really that obsessed about Buffy or Spike. I don't think he's really that innocent. It was my inner fangirl coming out. It was just one of those weird dreams I thought I'd share 'cuz of the humor.
This is the story of the dream I had last night.
It started at my graduation ceremony, which actually happened Wednesday night, in this little grade-school gym. I was bored and complaining to my best friend that the reception was making me miss Buffy. She told me to go home and watch it, and since I live literally straight across the street from where we were, that would have made sense, but I told her that I'd feel stupid leaving the party to go watch TV.
"Well," she said, "you could always watch it in the parking lot."
Which made me go, "Huh?"
So we walked out into the parking lot, where most of my class had migrated. Some were on the other side, dancing around a DJ (although why the DJ was in the middle of the parking lot and not in the gym, I have no idea...), some were standing around talking, and sure enough, some were watching as Buffy and Xander stood in the middle of the street and discussed the demon they were hunting. My friend and I sat down on the curb and watched them. Unfortunately, it was a pretty boring scene, so we spent the time discussing how hot Spike was.
Just then, the scene ended and Spike appeared. He was on the motorcycle, and we were following him in an aerial shot. Somehow, without crossing an ocean or getting off the motorcycle, we all ended up in Africa, outside a hospital.
It was a weird modern art design (if you've ever seen the Livingston Library here in Columbus, it was just like that), and a pale purple color. On the wall was a giant map of the United States done in dark brown, just the outlines of the states. Above the map it said, "Les Etates-Unis", which is French for 'the United States'. For some reason, I didn't realize it was french. I couldn't figure out where we were. I thought it couldn't be Africa, since we hadn't crossed an ocean. I can remember thinking to myself, "Maybe this is New York and that's Spanish," but then I realized that it was French and that meant that we *had* to be in Africa. That conclusion doesn't really make sense, but whatever.
Next to the map was one of those lists that has the doctors' last names and their room numbers. The only light for miles around was pointed right on that list. Even all of the lights in the hospital were off. The list was right next to the edge of the building, and a dark, empty parking lot was a few feet away. Spike was standing with his back to us, looking from the list to a piece of notebook paper in his hand.
I looked at my friend, and then realized that I had the chance to be in the scene, so I stepped forward and started speaking. I wasn't Buffy, I was still me, except everything that had ever happened to Buffy had happened to me, but I still had had my actual life. I don't know, dream logic.
I called Spike's name, but he didn't turn to look at me. "What are doing here?" I asked.
He handed me the notebook paper without looking at me and started to walk away, toward the parking lot. I glanced at it quickly and saw a scrawled, pencil message. At the top of the page was a photo of what I knew was the demon I had seen Buffy talking about. It looked like one of the California Raisins, only less wrinkly and with scary eyes instead of sunglasses. At the bottom of the message, instead of a signature, was the address http://www.oxygen.com , which apparently is an actual site for that woman's network, but in the dream it was the demon's name. I didn't take the time to read the whole message because I saw the words 'removal of soul' and gasped. I looked up to ask, "Spike...did you... did you get rid of your soul?"
He sighed like he wanted to saw yes, but instead answered, "Not yet." He was in the parking lot, where it was so dark I couldn't see him at all.
Yes, I know Spike doesn't have a soul. Don't ask me were he got this one.
Anyways, I yelled at him for about five minutes, finally ending with "...and besides, you'd still have the chip so you couldn't do anything bad, anyway." At that, he stepped forward and into the light, where I could finally see his face, which was destroyed. It looked like a big pink and red marshmallow. Both of his eyes where black and were so swollen that I couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. His lip was cut and still bleeding.
"Oh my god," I said. "What happened?"
He told me a story about how a demon had come after him for news of the slayer and he had refused to give anything away. I started to cry for him. I cry about five times in this dream, but I'm not like this in real life.
I stepped close to him and did that thing were you trace the air above someone's skin because you know it would hurt too much to actually touch the wound. He didn't say anything, just stared at the ground.
"I can't even see your eyes..." I said. Although it sounds pretty stupid, in the dream it was the saddest, most tragic and most profound thing anyone had ever said. It also made me cry so hard that I couldn't talk. I took another step closer to him and started sobbing into his shoulder, while he awkwardly curled his hands around me because his fingers were broken and he couldn't actually hold me. He didn't cry, but that made it seem even sadder, like he'd been through so much that he didn't even have tears left.
While I was standing there, the scene ended, and so Spike, the hospital and the parking lot all faded away and left me by myself in the parking lot where I'd started, with the reception. I was completely alone. Fifty feet to my left, most of my class was dancing with the DJ, and fifty feet to my right there were a few small clumps of people talking, but there was no one at all between the two groups. I saw my friend in a clump, talking, so I walked over to her, still bawling.
She turned to me and said, "Jeez, it wasn't *that* sad."
I just kinda nodded because I didn't trust myself to form words.
"Well, I guess you can cry on my shoulder," she said, turning back to the other people. I leaned over and sobbed into her shoulder while she carried on a conversation about what she was doing later that night.
After a few minutes, I looked up and wiped my eyes. Right then another close friend walked by and saw me crying.
"What's wrong?" she said. I pointed over my shoulder, and, right on cue, Xander and Willow ran by, chasing something.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "You're obsessed with that show. I wish I had that much time to watch TV."
"Hey!" I said. "I may talk about Buffy a lot, but that's pretty much the only TV I watch. You probably watch more than me in a week."
"Yeah, right. The only time I watch TV is right before or right after I go to see a movie." And then she walked off. I stood looking after her, knowing that I was right, but unable to think of a way too prove it. I felt stupid and like a coach potato, and I could feel tears in my eyes. (The dream-me is such a cry baby.) I walked over to watch the people dancing. It was a slow song, but they were all bunched tightly together. There was one person standing on the edge, watching.
It was Spike. I went and stood right next to him, and he turned to look at me. His face was back to normal, except for the cut on his lip and a scar right beneath his left eye. He held his hand out to me, and we started to dance.
It was that real slow dance, were you just kinda sway back and forth. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he put his head on top of mine, and we just danced for a few minutes.
"I'm sorry I loved you," he said finally, breaking the silence.
I sighed, feeling sad (but not crying!) but knowing that everything would have been easier if he hadn't fallen in love with me.
"I'm sorry I couldn't love you." I said, after a moment. I started to think about how badly he'd been hurt, and every other time that he'd proved he *could* be good.
We swayed for a little longer as I thought, until I suddenly burst into tears,(not more crying!) pressing my face into his leather jacket. "Fuck you, Spike," I whispered.
"I...what?" He said.
"How can be so good that you make me think I can love you, and then be so bad I think I should have staked you long ago?"
"I *am* good." he said, obviously lost but trying to defend himself.
"What about those eggs? What about when you tried to rape me?" The eggs reference is those demons things from the episode with Riley, in case you forgot.
"You won't let me be good. I try and I try, but you've made it very clear that it'll never be enough for you. You won't let yourself love me, you won't give me any hope that it's even possible, and then you expect me to act like Angel. You except me to help your friends, but you don't even say a word when they beat me, over and over, right in front of your face. Do you know how many times Xander's broken my nose?
And I'm defenseless. I've been made lower than *Xander*. And everything I had left, everything that had managed to survive that, I gave to you. And you just want to stand by and watch me be broken. Why? Beacause I'm not good enough? Well, fuck you, Buffy, beacuase I'll never be good enough, and you know it. You could never let me be good enough."
Suddenly, I started to hear rain, even though it wasn't raining in the dream. I realized I was waking up, and tried desperately to stay asleep. I tried to hold onto the dream because I wanted to hear what I'd say to that, but it just faded away faster. I sat up and looked at my clock, and it was only 8AM. On the days I dream about nothing, I sleep till noon, when I want to sleep, I get up four hours after I went to bed.
I'm cursed.
Anyways, that's the story of the most vivid dream I've had in a while. Please don't think I'm really that obsessed about Buffy or Spike. I don't think he's really that innocent. It was my inner fangirl coming out. It was just one of those weird dreams I thought I'd share 'cuz of the humor.
