Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, UPN, and
Spoilers: Up to "Sanctuary."
Improv: crisp - fall - return - ending
I don't know why I went back to Sunnydale. But I made my return, and even if I don't know why, these are the facts.
I don't know why anything happens, anymore. But I do know the facts.
For instance, why did I kill that guy? It was an accident, of course. I didn't know he wasn't a vampire. I wouldn't have if I did, but I didn't, so I staked him. I staked a mortal and I closed up. I don't know why I closed up, but I did. People may think that I didn't feel any remorse over ending his life, but I did. For the first second afterwards. Then I shut down. I don't know why, but I know that I did.
Being in prison for so long, I had a lot of time to think about this kind of stuff, and I have come to one very clear conclusion: I don't know. Nothing is clear. I have also started to believe that everything happens for a reason, no matter how fucked-up that reason is. And that reason is never clear, until it's right in your face and kicking your ass.
I don't know why I turned on B, when I loved her more than anything. Really, she's the only person or thing that has ever meant anything at all to me. And I turned on her. I don't know why, but I did.
I sure as hell don't know why I went to Mayor Wilkins. I could say that I was scared and I figured he'd take care of me or some shit like that, but it would be a lie. I wasn't scared. I never get scared. But I went to him, and I don't know why. That is the fact of the matter.
I don't know why Wesley and his Watcher friends interrupted me and Angel. It's funny, because if they hadn't, things would have played out a hell of a lot different. But they did.
When I was in prison, I had a cellmate named Tallulah. I know, sad-ass name, but she was cool. Buffy has a sad-ass name and no one holds that against her, so don't judge Tallulah. Anyway, she was in for being an accessory to armed robbery. Her boyfriend had her wait in the car, and she didn't know what the fuck was going on, but he went in and robbed the place. They were caught, and she took the fall along with him. Just another example of how men screw women over, I guess.
She broke up with him of course, but she once told me that she wasn't mad at him. I asked her why not and she just replied that everything happens for a reason and that, in the grand scheme of things, there was a reason for her to go to jail. At that time I thought that was total bullshit, but after a while, I began to understand what she meant.
Everything that has happened led up to this moment. No matter how fucked up everything was, it all had to happen, or I wouldn't be right here at this perfect moment with B. Every last bit of that had to happen for me to end up here, and I am damn glad that it all happened.
If none of it had happened, we wouldn't have gone on this road trip to Boston, and we wouldn't be walking down the street hand-in-hand, and the cool night air wouldn't be whipping our hair around, and the crisp leaves wouldn't be crunching under our feet. And she wouldn't lean in and kiss me, and I wouldn't accept it gratefully, and she wouldn't whisper to me, "I love you." And I know I wouldn't reply, "I love you, too, B." But all of that did happen, and now all of this is fact.
So I guess, to sum all this up, I have one thing to say - fate can kick your ass, but just when you think that everything is unclear and so fucking fucked-up, she can look at you, and you know, finally, that one thing is fact. You know that she loves you, and that is the only thing that matters.
And that is fact.