Anything But Ordinary

Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh myself to sleep
It's my lullaby
Sometimes I drive so fast
Just to feel the danger
I wanna scream
It makes me feel alive

Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please

To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that I
Have been to the extreme
So knock me off my feet
Come on now give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive

Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh my self to sleep
It's my lullaby

Is it enough?
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please.


It had been weeks. She knew this. Just how many, she couldn't be sure, but she knew it had been a few. It was a blur. Time didn't move the same way anymore. The air didn't feel the same. Everything was heavy, cold, suffocating. Simply lifting her head up was a battle.  She felt like she was fighting the weightless air around her. It felt toxic to her, always feeling like too much and not enough at the same time. She no longer possessed the will to struggle, to try. To everyone else, she simply looked tired, worn down, sad. She was more pale and fragile in appearance than she had been, resembling more the girl she was six years ago than the woman she had become.

It was understandable, after all that had happened. The magic, and losing Tara, the way she was ripped from her just when...They thought they knew, they understood, at least to some extent how she was feeling, what she was feeling. She was mourning, and lost and guilty and sorry for the things she had done. It was all so horribly understandable, and they could sympathize and give her time until she bounced back. The thing was, if any of them really knew, really understood, they would have been horrified at the thoughts constantly plaguing the redheads mind. They would have cried for their friend, again. And undoubtedly, they would never have sympathized and given her time...never.

She missed Tara, so much so that there was a constant, unbearable ache deep in her chest. Every few minutes a new wave of tears would break free, and her body would shake painfully while she sobbed. The one person who truly saw her as something special, something wonderful, was gone. She would never be looked at like that again. And just to rub a little salt into her wounds, she had desecrated her love with her actions after losing her. She had done the one thing that Tara had begged her not to, and gone towards the darkness that was the polar opposite of everything Tara stood for. Just as she would clear her mind, desperate to think different thoughts, that voice would whisper this to her again, reminding her of who, what she really was.

She had tried so hard, worked so hard. She had truly transformed, become something amazing. She had power, self-confidence and strength. She had love and devotion. She had it all and she should have known better. She should have known that just when you reach a peak, you are sure to fall. And fall she did. Hard. Now, she was nothing more than that meager, mousy high school student, hiding behind her books and allowing the world to walk all over her. She was nothing more than perfectly ordinary. Actually she was less than that. She was somewhere below that, and that was where she knew she
would stay.

Xander had told her he loved her. And he had meant it. She knew that. But even he, her very best friend, had only ever seen her as something special after someone else had first. Buffy saw her, but was content to have her as her background. It was common enough
knowledge that a person would appear all the more extra-ordinary with a very ordinary surrounding.

Oz had loved her. Had seen her as something wonderful. But to him she was pure and innocent and almost untouchable and eventually he found something, someone else whom had been what he really needed. Willow lacked a necessary part, a demon he thought he needed. And by the time he had figured things out, she had moved on.

Everything she had done in the last few years was in an attempt to become something more than just "plain old reliable Willow." And now, all that effort was lost.

Each day, she would come and help those people she referred to as friends. She would research or help when she could, though she found more and more that she could stand to be around them for only so long before she had to leave. She could find no solace in their company, and though she really found none when alone either, at least then she
could brood and berate herself without distraction.

She spent her nights alone, usually walking outside when unable to sleep. She knew she shouldn't. She didn't even go out armed with so much as a stake. They would be angry with her if they knew she did it. More than once she had purposefully hidden or run from a certain area, knowing Buffy was near and fearing being caught. She would understand of course and then just try to help and protect her.  That made everything all the more unbearable. And she knew, though she wouldn't outwardly admit it but would never bother to deny it, that part of her secretly hoped and prayed that she would be
attacked. It would make things so much simpler.

This night was no different than the rest. She walked aimlessly through the streets. Her head was down, her shoulders were slumped forward, all traces of self-assurance completely gone from her. She ended up in the same spot as always...Tara's grave. She slumped down onto the grass, leaning up against the cold stone, smiling softly at the feel of it against her cheek. After a few minutes she laughed a little to herself. It wasn't her usual perky, happy laughter. It was bitter and cold.

"Quiet night in the cemetary?" She mumbled to herself. How many times had she been warned not to go out at night alone? How many times had she run into something evil in the night when she hadn't wanted to? And now? Well, that was the hell mouth for you. Quietly she slid a small silver blade out of her pocket and looked mesmerized at it as the moon reflected off of the shiny surface. Slowly, she slid the tip lightly across her index finger, closing her eyes as she felt the sharpened edge slice slightly into her skin, causing just the smallest amount of blood to seep out.

He smelled the blood the minute it surfaced. It was intoxicating and it had been SO long since he had tasted fresh, human blood. He growled a little to himself, though, knowing there was no way he would be tasting it. As low growls continued to rumble from his
chest, he watched the redhead in the distance with great interest.

After making a second small slice, her head suddenly shot up as she heard a low growl coming from somewhere nearby. Her eyes search the area all around her, her face not showing any of the fear he expected to see there. What he saw he couldn't identify. It was foreign and unreadable to him. After a few moments, Willow decided that it must have been her imagination and looked back down. 'Hmph. Wishful thinking' "Where are all the big bad vampires when you need one?" She thought out loud.

Finally he decided that he had seen and heard enough and had to know exactly what she was doing out here. Stepping forward swiftly but quietly, he came up to just behind the grave stone she leaned again. Bending down a bit, he whispered, "Ask and you shall receive, pet. "She jumped, startled by the voice behind her. She turned and looked back, her eyes looking more dead and listless than he had expected.

"Spike." She said, simply.

He was taken back by her appearance. She was so pale and drawn and looked as though there was absolutely no strength left in the witch at all. He came around to face her and looked for the first time at the name on the grave stone. Suddenly, understanding settled upon him and he knelt down next to her.

She had been surprised to see him. In fact, he was just about the last creature she had expected to encounter that night. "You've been gone." She said quietly.

He looked at her for a moment, not taking notice of what she had said, and nodded towards the grave. "I'm sorry." He told her, honestly.

"You are?" She looked up into his face, surprised to hear the deep compassion in his voice. That was when she noticed it. The difference. In his eyes. There was something there, that hadn't been before.

"What....where did you go? What happened?" She asked him, not knowing what the right question would be.

Again he only stared at her, looking as if very deep in thought.

"Spike, y-you have your soul," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

He simply nodded.

"How?"

"Long story. I'm supposing you have a bit of a long story to tell yourself. Am I right pet?"

She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. "Someone killed her. I killed him. I almost destroyed the world. Then I didn't."

"And now?"

She looked at him in confusion. "Now? Now nothing."

She looked back down at the knife in her hands. His eyes followed her gaze and that was when he remembered what she had been doing.  Quickly grabbing the knife from her grasp he tossed it away from them. She saw his face turn angry as she looked up at him, startled and annoyed at his action. He grabbed her hand roughly and held up the injured figure.

"And what of all this? Is this nothing too?"

She looked away and tried frantically to pull her arm away from him, but his grasp on her hand only tightened. "Spike, please....don't, please..." she pleaded, as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

He continued to hold firm, though his face and voice softened a little. "Tell me, then, Red, what exactly you're doing out here?"

She shook her head, choking back her tears.

"Sitting out in a cemetery at night, bleedin yourself's only gonna get you good and dead, you know. Is that what you want?" He shook her arm a little, angered at just the thought, but was startled a bit as she began to sob and her body began to shake.

"Red?" He looked at her, compassion him.

"Yes," she whispered between sobs.

"What?"

"Yes, that is what I want." She broke down completely and he could feel her entire body go limp as it was wracked with painful sobs. Gathering her into his arms, he held her tightly to him, stroking her hair and back and rocking her slightly.

"Willow, how could you want that? What ever you've done, whatever has happened, it doesn't warrant that."

She shook her head. Even he didn't understand.

"Look at me, luv, all the things I've done, and you don't see me just goin and givin up, right?"

She looked up at him, trying to slow her tears and speak through the sobs. "I-it isn't th-th-that. I can't con-con- I can't be that again. Not any more. I-I can't."

"Willow, can't be what?" He was trying to desperately to understand.

"Just plain, old ordinary Willow."

Sudden understanding washing across his face, forcing out all of his anger, he gently lifted her face to him and looked right into her eyes, holding her chin slightly so that she couldn't look away.

"Willow, you are ANYTHING but ordinary." She gave him a look clearly stating that she did not believe him. "Honestly, pet," he continued. "You're smarter and sharper than any other human I've ever met. You're sweet and kind and powerful and SO STRONG. Your strength amazes me. And even more amazing than that is the utter compassion you give freely to everyone, even big bad vampires like me."

He smiled slightly at her, and she suddenly felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw the look in his eyes. It was that look. The same one that Tara would give her, when she knew, just KNEW, someone thought that she was wonderful.

End.