I’m off to greet Buffy at the morgue.
Joyce died. Dawn’s a mess.
Screw it. I’m a mess.
I can’t stop thinking of all the times I’ve been there over the past three years or so since Joyce found out about Buffy. I remember the exact date and time at which I went to Buffy’s house to see if she was okay and was greeted with a sobbing Joyce telling me that she was gone. 12:37pm on June 10th, 1998. I remember the times after that when Willow and Giles and I would go and talk to Joyce about everything vampirey. I remember the 2am Scooby meetings at Buffy’s house when Joyce would make us mochas.
I think she might have been my mom, too. For the last little while, anyway. I remember going and talking to her when Cordelia broke up with me however temporarily on Valentine’s Day. She sat me down and listened to me for a while, and then told me about her breakup from Buffy’s dad and how terrible she felt for a while, but soon she realized what a restricting relationship it had been.
Then I thought about it, and she was right. Cordelia was limiting my freedom.
And then I took her back three days later after doing a spell to try and get my revenge.
But I never forgot what Joyce had to say.
I just don’t know who I can talk to about this. I want to go to Joyce. But she’s… not here.
She’s gone.
She’s dead.
Oh God.
I have to go pick up Willow.
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