Title: It's 4 A.M., I Must be Terrified
Series: In the A.M.
Author: Vashti
Fandom: BtVS
Character(s): Buffy, Oz, Spike, OC
Rating: PG-13 for the entire series
Summary: Buffy is having trouble sleeping
Length: approx 1500 words
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Notes: I wrote this more than a few years ago (I think this will actually date itself), but I have since done some light editing. The content is largely unchanged, so if you've read it before you won't see any major differences. This is being posted at the prompting of
It’s 4 a.m., I Must Be Terrified
by Vashti
The computer tone let her know that a connection with her internet server had finally been made and, once again, she had zoned out during dial-up. Only half-aware she watched the homepage load, only to be wrenched back into reality by the pinging of her instant messenger as she was automatically signed in.
Obviously turning the computer sounds back on had been a good idea, she thought, as she logged into one of her two e-mail accounts. Willow would be . . .but her mind skittered off that thought as if trying to find balance on a steep and icy slope. There were too many emotions, too many bad (wonderful), awful (awing) things where thoughts of Willow and many of the others were concerned.
(She missed Giles.)
One by one she clicked the little box beside each piece of new mail -- junk, junk, junk, ew porno, junk, junk -- before it occurred to her to click the Check All box and free up the messages she did want. But then it wouldn’t take as long.
Her instant messenger made that sound that always made her imagine a rose was blooming in one of the corners of her computer. A window popped up as she clicked on the blinking taskbar button.
Lycanthropology Major: Buffy?
Brow furrowed she typed back.
The Choose Another One: do I know you?
She was pretty sure that name wasn’t on her buddy list.
Lycanthropology Major: it’s Oz, Buff
The Choose Another One: Oz!! what’re you doing online? wait, let me add you to my list
Lycanthropology Major: i could ask u the same
Busy adding Oz's handle to her list she didn't notice his reply or the pinging of the messenger until the blinking taskbar caught her eye. She read the message. With a humorless smile she replied.
The Choose Another One: it's 4 a.m. I must be terrified
Oz: ?
Buffy shook her head, even online Oz was condensed.
Oz: let's go 2 my chat room, k? feels more comfortable & u can make ur own avatar
The Choose Another One: avatar? uh, ok
She wasn't sure how being in a chat room was any more personal than IM'ing but, whatever. Clicking the link Oz sent her she soon learned what an avatar was. The closest she could come to herself was a yellow-blond who wasn't quite Britney Spears/Christina Aguilera skanky. Grimacing to herself she had to admit at this point her skank-ho factor was least of her concerns.
Name? the computer prompted.
B-U-F-F-Y, she typed. Well, if it was supposed to be her it might as well have her name.
This avatar thing was cool, she decided walking her pictured self to a small round table and “sat” across from Oz.
Buffy: This is cool. you design it?
Oz: yeah
Buffy: why does your avatar look like you and mine is a close approximation?
Oz: it’s custom
Buffy: ahh
Oz was right, this was more comfortable. She could almost imagine she really was sitting outside a small cafe while he strummed on . . .his guitar? Where had that come from? Buffy shrugged. As if her life right now were any more or less predictable than this moment. That'd be a definite no.
“So what did you mean by ‘It’s 4 A.M., I must be terrified?” He looked up from the strings.
A gentle breeze blew across Buffy’s face. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Willow didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I died.”
“You look pretty good for a dead girl.” Head cocked to one side he studied her. “Actually you don’t. What’s this make, twice?” he asked, returning to his strumming.
“Yeah,” sigh, “it does.”
“You don’t seem to happy about it. The reliving thing. What happened?”
Buffy gave him a Reader’s Digest version of Dawn, Glory, the Key and her death. Somehow she managed to tell him the entire story without feeling a thing. But really, when she thought about it, that wasn’t so unusual after all, was it?
“So you have a sister,” his face didn’t quite believe her. Then again he’d never met Dawn.
Buffy laughed, “You’re probably the only person who remembers what it was like before. You and Faith. The real world,” her face darkened.
“But it’s not the real world for you guys anymore.”
She shook her head.
“And this isn’t the real world for you either, is it?”
It was her turn to look up sharply at him as Oz had when she’d explained she wasn’t an only child anymore.
“Willow didn’t bring you back from Hell did she?”
Buffy hadn’t mentioned anything about Hell, only that Willow had raised her from the dead. “What are you talking about Oz?” But she couldn’t put the heat into her voice that it needed to make her statement in any way forceful. Or even alive.
Oz lay his hand flat across the strings of his guitar. “How’d she do it, Buffy? How’d she bring you back? Did you materialize? Did they do it in Giles’ place? At the cemetery? At your grave?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Curious. I’ve been studying Eastern medicine. And you’re,” he searched for the word, the perfect word, “off. Just a little off-center. Whatever Willow did it was off. I want help. If I can.”
Brow furrowed, Buffy described what it was like coming back ignoring all of Oz’s questions.
“I’m sorry Buffy for what she did to you.” He lay a hand over hers. “I know about your fear . . .of being buried alive. They should have researched it better.” He withdrew his hand. Plucking another melody from the strings he added, “She should have never pulled you from Heaven.”
“How did you know?”
“Two plus two equals four not ten. There wouldn’t have been a lot of spells at Willow’s disposal. If she had gone to Giles he would told her that it wasn’t just the witch that had to be worthy but the soul. If you had been just anyone it wouldn’t have been granted. If you had been just anywhere, same thing. And you said a demon came back with you?” She nodded. “Evil to balance good. You told them?”
Buffy laughed, surprised to be genuinely amused. “Oh, I can see it now. ‘Hey guys, that little spell you performed behind Giles’ back to bring me back from an evil hell dimension so you guys could have a slayer, pulled me from the happiest moments I have, and probably will ever, experience. Thanks.’ Yeah, that’s so happening Oz.”
His eyebrows rose and fell quickly, agreeing.
“Spike’s right, it really is Sunnyhell,” she added contemplatively.
They didn’t speak for a long time. Buffy liked that.
“So you’re having trouble sleeping?” She nodded. “I’m gonna be in town next week, like in a few days. Wanna do something?”
Buffy sighed. “Anything to keep from sleeping.”
“Dreams?”
“Dreams. I wake up in the middle of the night and think I’m in some nightmare.” Her eyes took on a far away look. “Everything’s so blurry like nothing’s real. It’s better than the first couple of days but nothing seems solid, not even my reflection.”
“You know there’s a theory that Heaven’s just like Earth -- sans Hellmouth, muggers and rapists of course -- but more real. That this is just a pale reflection of Heaven, all fuzzy around the edges.”
“Is that how you knew that I wasn’t in, you know, Hell?”
He shrugged, “Educated guess. You know you really should talk to someone else about this. I’m only going to be around for a few days.” Her eyes refused to meet hers. “What? Who’d you tell already?”
Wincing she said, “Spike.”
Oz’s eyebrows climbed to his hair. “Not my first choice for poignant disclosures.”
“He supposedly loves me.”
“Really.” Again his face didn’t believe her.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe him either but he’ll keep a secret. I hope. It was impulsive. Oh God, I told Spike!” She bumped her head on the table.
“No need for physical damage. It’s okay. Buffy?” he looked at her askance when she didn’t raise her head.
“I told Spike!”
“So noted.”
The light outside her bedroom window caught Buffy’s attention.
Buffy: Oz, I don’t know where you are but dawn's rosy fingers are creeping on the horizon here.
Oz: huh?
Buffy: we're reading The Iliad for my classics class
Oz: ahh. how'r u liking achilles' fifty names
Buffy: greeeat. got the Spark Notes. anyway, i need at least an hour's sleep before classes start
Oz: classics 1st?
Buffy: better believe it.
Oz: ok, np
Buffy: np?
Oz: no problem. so i'll be around sometime next week. i'll give u a call?
Buffy: e-mail me. don't need anyone else knowing my post-midnight activities
Oz: gotcha. u know, buff, maybe u should talk to spike some more. i mean, unless ur always online around 4 a.m. pacific time
Buffy didn't answer for a long time.
Buffy: i'll think about it.
Oz: tell me how it goes
Buffy: i said i'd think about it, not do it
Oz: tell me how it goes
Buffy: good *bye* Oz
Oz: nite Buffy. dreamless sleep
Buffy: thanks
Fin[ite]