As she opened her eyes, she had to wince as the harsh shining of the penlight caused her dilated...
[Buffy/WoD] What is Normal?
- Thread starter Ellf
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 218
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 28
-
Statistics (28 threadmarks, 68k words)
User Total Ellf 28
First snippet.
Ellf
Apprentice Wizard
- Location
- Virginia
As she opened her eyes, she had to wince as the harsh shining of the penlight caused her dilated pupils to constrict slightly, but nowhere near enough. Perhaps her wince wasn't enough because as the light was pulled away, she could hear him speaking.
"I'm sorry, there's no reaction at all." That was completely wrong. She just needed to figure out where she was. She totally reacted, but maybe the guy didn't see her. She needed to give a stronger reaction before he said something- "I'm afraid we lost her..."
Something like that. She could hear a woman sobbing in the corner... Her mother? She could have sworn that her mother was dead... But maybe that was the delusion. Maybe she hadn't come home to find her mother dead on the couch of an aneurism. She'd been flashing back and forth so much recently it was ridiculously hard to tell what was real. The antidote... It hadn't worked. She knew... She wasn't there now. She was here. This is what was real.
"Mommy..." She croaked out. Or rather she tried. It ended up coming out as a garbled noise from her that only vaguely resembled the word. In a flash the penlight was back and while the sobbing hadn't stopped, it had at least abated enough that it seemed like her mother was stopping herself.
"Buffy, can you hear me? Buffy?" Well, at least the doctor was getting her name right. She was afraid for only the slightest of seconds that the bastard would be calling her something like 'Elizabeth.' She wasn't an 'Elizabeth.' Never had been, and she never would be. She answered the doctor with a nod. God, her mouth was dry.
"Water..." The word came out more clearly than her last one. Perhaps this Doctor.... James Smith would be more helpful now. Doctor Smith was a dark-skinned man with a shaved head. His eyes were dark and she wasn't quite sure she trusted them. Sure, the man had certainly seemed helpful, and the lab coat he wore overtop of his dark slacks cemented him in his position. Still, the bastard had a penlight, an overly bright penlight.
"Yes, yes, of course. You've been through quite an ordeal, Buffy." Her eyes came into focus when he took that damnable penlight away. When she'd been flashing back and forth between Sunnydale and here, she'd seen the room, but she hadn't quite gotten a good look around it. She certainly wasn't restrained, though judging from the bed, it looked like they'd needed to restrain her a few times. She was in the corner, clutching herself. "Mr. Summers, would you mind getting some water for your daughter?"
Her father was here... that was right. The man went out of the room, likely to get the water she needed... at least she hoped. He hadn't (abandoned his family, betrayed your mother), done anything to make her think he wasn't someone who loved her. God, she hoped she was in reality now.
"Do you remember where you are, Buffy?" The doctor asked, looking her in the face. Of course she remembered. She was at the mental hospital... clinic, whatever. According to the doctor, she'd been here six years. Six years of her life lost to the delusion of Sunnydale. Six years that lacked meaning beyond the fact that she was crazy. She nodded.
"Yes..." Still hurt to talk. Hopefully her father would come back with that water soon. Those last moments in Sunnydale must have been rough on her vocal cords here. "Mom?"
"I'm here, honey... I knew you had the strength you needed..." Her mother came over to hug her, glaring a little as the Doctor started to protest. "I was worried there for a moment."
After a little bit of huggage, her mother released her, but she didn't leave her side. Her mother being here by her side... Sunnydale wasn't real. This was real. Her mother was real.
Her dad came in with a glass of water which he gave to the doctor. She reached out her hands for it, but Doctor Smith held it up to her mouth instead. Moving her hands to grasp it, she started to sip at it. "Slowly, Buffy. If you go too fast, you could choke."
Right. That. Slow and sure, Buffy managed to wet her throat with the glass of water. Maybe when she next spoke, it wouldn't be quite so hoarse or painful. It didn't take her a long time to finish it, but each passing gulp felt like an eternity. No coughing, no spitting up, she managed to finish the entire glass before the doctor took it away from her.
"Buffy, you're lucid now, but you were lucid before slipping back into the delusion earlier. I need you to stay with us this time. Can you do that?" Okay, Buffy didn't know much about psychology. One class at UC Sunnydale where she'd fallen asleep was the extent of her experience, and if this was real, that was a delusion anyway, but the doctor seemed to be absurdly patronizing to her.
"Yeah, I think I can." Might as well play along with him. He wants you for your parents' money. She'd get better, and get out of here. Hospitals always freaked her out, and spending six years in one was far longer than she ever wanted to deal with it. "I want to be healthy again. Sunnydale wasn't real... I know that now, but it felt so real..."
"Delusions often do... But if you can hold onto here, we might be able to see some improvement..." The doctor smiled at her. It was fake, but she let him have his pretty little lies. Lucidity was in the eye of the beholder.
"Will we be able to take her home?" Her mother sounded anxious, but her father was looking directly at her. She felt his eyes judging her, but at the same time, she knew he loved her. Maybe his eyes could judge her worthy of his love, but that would be up to each individual eye.
"Not right away, no, but if she remains lucid this time, we may be able to explore outpatient treatment. Like this, she's less of a danger to herself and others." That was true. Buffy looked to her parents... and then at the thin slit in the wall where natural light could come in... Unfortunately it was night time. When vampires come out to play... Vampires weren't real. Demons weren't real... and she was most definitely not the Slayer. "We'll keep her here for observation over the next few days, and if she retains this grasp on reality..."
He trailed off and smiled at her, almost realizing that she was still there, paying attention. She didn't blame him. After all, when she was stuck in Sunnydale, she didn't even know here even existed. She gestured for him to go on. "So basically if I don't go crazypants again, I can leave?"
After his nod, she smiled. "I think I'll be good then." What is reality but a series of connecting dreams?
"Well, we're going to have to leave you here for a while, Buffy. I'm sorry. Someone will be by to check on you later." Doctor Smith led her parents out of the room, leaving her alone.
********************************
After showing the Summers parents out of the hospital, Doctor Smith headed for his office where he dialed a memorized number. When someone picked up on the other end, the dark-skinned psychiatrist smiled.
"Doctor Grout? Your treatment plan... it seems to have worked. The girl's awake and lucid again. Room 510. Thank you... I look forward to the reward."
**********************************8
Buffy spent the next week and a half under observation while she tried to get her own head on straight. From what she was able to determine, Sunnydale, CA was a town she completely made up. There was no Hellmouth, there were no vampires. She was the Slayer in mind only. Still though, it had felt real, and sorting that out from this reality was no easy task. She had barely any memories from her time in this institution, and what little she had were clouded by a sense of wrongness.
The one good thing about this though was the ability to see her mother again. Joyce Summers was an amazing woman, and Buffy hadn't had nearly enough time with her. The fact that she was still with Hank Summers here felt strange, but maybe the two of them had managed to push back the issues they'd had for her sake. That had been a strange comfort: Buffy being the savior of the marriage rather than the cause of the divorce. When her mother visited during the daytime, sometimes with Hank, sometimes without, Buffy felt a bit like her old self again. Admittedly, she had changed significantly since Hemery, being stuck in a mental hospital for six years while under a delusion would do that to someone, but she was reconnecting with this world.
Buffy's days often were spent with the doctors, group time, and sometimes visits with family. They needed to watch her, make sure she wasn't going to fall under the delusion again. Her nights back in her room gave her time to think. As she laid down to sleep, she constantly feared waking back up in Sunnydale, that maybe this was still an illusion caused by some demon there, that maybe she'd... No. Here was definitely real. Buffy trusted her senses for the most part.
She rolled over in bed as she heard the door to her room open. Sure, she'd been expecting the nurse. Nightly medication was apparently part of her treatment plan, no matter how much she despised it. However, it was not the nurse at the door to her room. Instead, it was a man whom she hadn't seen before. The man wasn't all that much older than her father, his long orange hair perfectly coifed back behind his head. He wore a lab coat over what looked to be a tweed suit. The man seemed somewhat familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place him. Perhaps this was where the delusion of Giles got his tweed obsession from... if she'd seen him before. The man's face was free of glasses, and he had the most striking dark eyes, sunken into his face only slightly, peering at her over a hooked nose. His skin was pale, paler than it should have been given the color of his hair and eyes, but vampires weren't real.
"Miss Buffy Summers, I presume." The man's voice was cultured, American, but it had that air of superiority that only those with money could obtain. At her nod, he continued. "I apologize for waking you, my dear, but I felt the need to meet you myself. My name is..." Doctor Alistair Grout. "Alistair Grout, and I have a PhD in Psychiatry. I consulted with your doctor on your case." The blind lead the blind and the Lunatics treat the mad...
Buffy shook her head, lingering bits of her delusion sometimes seemed to manifest like that. Whispers. They weren't real. She knew it. "And why come see me now? Why not during the daytime?"
Doctor Grout shrugged apologetically. "Unfortunately my work keeps me occupied during most of the daylight hours, and I've always been a bit of a night owl." Even when he was alive he'd lie. Vampires were not real. She knew it. Grout continued, "So this is the first I had managed to get off. I thought I would meet with the girl whose treatment I had heard so much about while I was able. Perhaps you could help me with my research."
Help him with his research? She had flashes to Maggie Walsh in her delusion, but again, that was most definitely not real. There was no Initiative. There was no ADAM. There was no Slayer. Sure this doctor seemed like he might be somewhat eccentric, but he was a psychiatrist. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. "How can I help from here?"
"First, I'd like to know about your delusion, Miss Summers. Tell me all about it.... You don't have to go into supreme detail, but cover the important bits." Doctor Grout wanted her to talk about Sunnydale? She didn't know much about him. For all she knew, he could have been another patient, and where was that nurse?
"I don't... I really don't want to talk about it." Even if he was a doctor, she didn't want to... She wasn't going to bring her mind back there. This will not satisfy him. He is not sorry...
"I apologize, my dear, but I must insist." Doctor Grout's voice took on a harsher tone then. "You will tell me about your delusion."
"I'm sorry, there's no reaction at all." That was completely wrong. She just needed to figure out where she was. She totally reacted, but maybe the guy didn't see her. She needed to give a stronger reaction before he said something- "I'm afraid we lost her..."
Something like that. She could hear a woman sobbing in the corner... Her mother? She could have sworn that her mother was dead... But maybe that was the delusion. Maybe she hadn't come home to find her mother dead on the couch of an aneurism. She'd been flashing back and forth so much recently it was ridiculously hard to tell what was real. The antidote... It hadn't worked. She knew... She wasn't there now. She was here. This is what was real.
"Mommy..." She croaked out. Or rather she tried. It ended up coming out as a garbled noise from her that only vaguely resembled the word. In a flash the penlight was back and while the sobbing hadn't stopped, it had at least abated enough that it seemed like her mother was stopping herself.
"Buffy, can you hear me? Buffy?" Well, at least the doctor was getting her name right. She was afraid for only the slightest of seconds that the bastard would be calling her something like 'Elizabeth.' She wasn't an 'Elizabeth.' Never had been, and she never would be. She answered the doctor with a nod. God, her mouth was dry.
"Water..." The word came out more clearly than her last one. Perhaps this Doctor.... James Smith would be more helpful now. Doctor Smith was a dark-skinned man with a shaved head. His eyes were dark and she wasn't quite sure she trusted them. Sure, the man had certainly seemed helpful, and the lab coat he wore overtop of his dark slacks cemented him in his position. Still, the bastard had a penlight, an overly bright penlight.
"Yes, yes, of course. You've been through quite an ordeal, Buffy." Her eyes came into focus when he took that damnable penlight away. When she'd been flashing back and forth between Sunnydale and here, she'd seen the room, but she hadn't quite gotten a good look around it. She certainly wasn't restrained, though judging from the bed, it looked like they'd needed to restrain her a few times. She was in the corner, clutching herself. "Mr. Summers, would you mind getting some water for your daughter?"
Her father was here... that was right. The man went out of the room, likely to get the water she needed... at least she hoped. He hadn't (abandoned his family, betrayed your mother), done anything to make her think he wasn't someone who loved her. God, she hoped she was in reality now.
"Do you remember where you are, Buffy?" The doctor asked, looking her in the face. Of course she remembered. She was at the mental hospital... clinic, whatever. According to the doctor, she'd been here six years. Six years of her life lost to the delusion of Sunnydale. Six years that lacked meaning beyond the fact that she was crazy. She nodded.
"Yes..." Still hurt to talk. Hopefully her father would come back with that water soon. Those last moments in Sunnydale must have been rough on her vocal cords here. "Mom?"
"I'm here, honey... I knew you had the strength you needed..." Her mother came over to hug her, glaring a little as the Doctor started to protest. "I was worried there for a moment."
After a little bit of huggage, her mother released her, but she didn't leave her side. Her mother being here by her side... Sunnydale wasn't real. This was real. Her mother was real.
Her dad came in with a glass of water which he gave to the doctor. She reached out her hands for it, but Doctor Smith held it up to her mouth instead. Moving her hands to grasp it, she started to sip at it. "Slowly, Buffy. If you go too fast, you could choke."
Right. That. Slow and sure, Buffy managed to wet her throat with the glass of water. Maybe when she next spoke, it wouldn't be quite so hoarse or painful. It didn't take her a long time to finish it, but each passing gulp felt like an eternity. No coughing, no spitting up, she managed to finish the entire glass before the doctor took it away from her.
"Buffy, you're lucid now, but you were lucid before slipping back into the delusion earlier. I need you to stay with us this time. Can you do that?" Okay, Buffy didn't know much about psychology. One class at UC Sunnydale where she'd fallen asleep was the extent of her experience, and if this was real, that was a delusion anyway, but the doctor seemed to be absurdly patronizing to her.
"Yeah, I think I can." Might as well play along with him. He wants you for your parents' money. She'd get better, and get out of here. Hospitals always freaked her out, and spending six years in one was far longer than she ever wanted to deal with it. "I want to be healthy again. Sunnydale wasn't real... I know that now, but it felt so real..."
"Delusions often do... But if you can hold onto here, we might be able to see some improvement..." The doctor smiled at her. It was fake, but she let him have his pretty little lies. Lucidity was in the eye of the beholder.
"Will we be able to take her home?" Her mother sounded anxious, but her father was looking directly at her. She felt his eyes judging her, but at the same time, she knew he loved her. Maybe his eyes could judge her worthy of his love, but that would be up to each individual eye.
"Not right away, no, but if she remains lucid this time, we may be able to explore outpatient treatment. Like this, she's less of a danger to herself and others." That was true. Buffy looked to her parents... and then at the thin slit in the wall where natural light could come in... Unfortunately it was night time. When vampires come out to play... Vampires weren't real. Demons weren't real... and she was most definitely not the Slayer. "We'll keep her here for observation over the next few days, and if she retains this grasp on reality..."
He trailed off and smiled at her, almost realizing that she was still there, paying attention. She didn't blame him. After all, when she was stuck in Sunnydale, she didn't even know here even existed. She gestured for him to go on. "So basically if I don't go crazypants again, I can leave?"
After his nod, she smiled. "I think I'll be good then." What is reality but a series of connecting dreams?
"Well, we're going to have to leave you here for a while, Buffy. I'm sorry. Someone will be by to check on you later." Doctor Smith led her parents out of the room, leaving her alone.
********************************
After showing the Summers parents out of the hospital, Doctor Smith headed for his office where he dialed a memorized number. When someone picked up on the other end, the dark-skinned psychiatrist smiled.
"Doctor Grout? Your treatment plan... it seems to have worked. The girl's awake and lucid again. Room 510. Thank you... I look forward to the reward."
**********************************8
Buffy spent the next week and a half under observation while she tried to get her own head on straight. From what she was able to determine, Sunnydale, CA was a town she completely made up. There was no Hellmouth, there were no vampires. She was the Slayer in mind only. Still though, it had felt real, and sorting that out from this reality was no easy task. She had barely any memories from her time in this institution, and what little she had were clouded by a sense of wrongness.
The one good thing about this though was the ability to see her mother again. Joyce Summers was an amazing woman, and Buffy hadn't had nearly enough time with her. The fact that she was still with Hank Summers here felt strange, but maybe the two of them had managed to push back the issues they'd had for her sake. That had been a strange comfort: Buffy being the savior of the marriage rather than the cause of the divorce. When her mother visited during the daytime, sometimes with Hank, sometimes without, Buffy felt a bit like her old self again. Admittedly, she had changed significantly since Hemery, being stuck in a mental hospital for six years while under a delusion would do that to someone, but she was reconnecting with this world.
Buffy's days often were spent with the doctors, group time, and sometimes visits with family. They needed to watch her, make sure she wasn't going to fall under the delusion again. Her nights back in her room gave her time to think. As she laid down to sleep, she constantly feared waking back up in Sunnydale, that maybe this was still an illusion caused by some demon there, that maybe she'd... No. Here was definitely real. Buffy trusted her senses for the most part.
She rolled over in bed as she heard the door to her room open. Sure, she'd been expecting the nurse. Nightly medication was apparently part of her treatment plan, no matter how much she despised it. However, it was not the nurse at the door to her room. Instead, it was a man whom she hadn't seen before. The man wasn't all that much older than her father, his long orange hair perfectly coifed back behind his head. He wore a lab coat over what looked to be a tweed suit. The man seemed somewhat familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place him. Perhaps this was where the delusion of Giles got his tweed obsession from... if she'd seen him before. The man's face was free of glasses, and he had the most striking dark eyes, sunken into his face only slightly, peering at her over a hooked nose. His skin was pale, paler than it should have been given the color of his hair and eyes, but vampires weren't real.
"Miss Buffy Summers, I presume." The man's voice was cultured, American, but it had that air of superiority that only those with money could obtain. At her nod, he continued. "I apologize for waking you, my dear, but I felt the need to meet you myself. My name is..." Doctor Alistair Grout. "Alistair Grout, and I have a PhD in Psychiatry. I consulted with your doctor on your case." The blind lead the blind and the Lunatics treat the mad...
Buffy shook her head, lingering bits of her delusion sometimes seemed to manifest like that. Whispers. They weren't real. She knew it. "And why come see me now? Why not during the daytime?"
Doctor Grout shrugged apologetically. "Unfortunately my work keeps me occupied during most of the daylight hours, and I've always been a bit of a night owl." Even when he was alive he'd lie. Vampires were not real. She knew it. Grout continued, "So this is the first I had managed to get off. I thought I would meet with the girl whose treatment I had heard so much about while I was able. Perhaps you could help me with my research."
Help him with his research? She had flashes to Maggie Walsh in her delusion, but again, that was most definitely not real. There was no Initiative. There was no ADAM. There was no Slayer. Sure this doctor seemed like he might be somewhat eccentric, but he was a psychiatrist. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. "How can I help from here?"
"First, I'd like to know about your delusion, Miss Summers. Tell me all about it.... You don't have to go into supreme detail, but cover the important bits." Doctor Grout wanted her to talk about Sunnydale? She didn't know much about him. For all she knew, he could have been another patient, and where was that nurse?
"I don't... I really don't want to talk about it." Even if he was a doctor, she didn't want to... She wasn't going to bring her mind back there. This will not satisfy him. He is not sorry...
"I apologize, my dear, but I must insist." Doctor Grout's voice took on a harsher tone then. "You will tell me about your delusion."
Last edited:
TheMagister
Lord Magus
Positively Malkavian.
Ellf
Apprentice Wizard
- Location
- Virginia
True enough. How much was a delusion? What else is going on with Buffy? Because despite not being the Slayer, she certainly isn't "normal."
Well... we'll see how the former Slayer faces her worst fear soon enough.
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
The original episode raised the possibility that they're both real, which is in its own way the worst possible situation.
Would you like to state, for the record, that this is not the case? ;-)
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Ah fuck. If the WoD is the real one, Grout's presence implies V:TM, meaning Gehenna is right around the corner...
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Hmm... "Six years" puts it in mid-2002, with the Week of Nightmares having happened in mid-1999... Ah fuck...
Malbutorius
C'est le bien qui fait mal
Here's the important thing though, Old World or New World?
Hm. I think I was expecting a Mage not a vampire.
Ellf
Apprentice Wizard
- Location
- Virginia
Bit more oWoD with aspects of nWoD.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Yes, oWoD is much better than nWoD in many respects... except for Gehenna hanging over the setting like the Sword of Damocles...
Seriously, you'd need an Exalt (preferably Solar) to actually stop all the plots and save the Old World of Darkness.
Last edited:
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Whatever floats your boat... but Buffy will be absolutely horrified if you turn her into the very thing she spent 6 years fighting...
Ellf
Apprentice Wizard
- Location
- Virginia
Horrified is one term. Of course, being who she is, I doubt she'd greet the sun.
Edit: Still, Grout doesn't tend to turn people... so why people are worrying about Buffy is beyond me.
Last edited:
I know of Grout only by the Bloodlines game, but weren't there a bunch of crazies in his house? Were they vampires or humans?
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
After they spent so much time getting rid of the exalts? Don't be silly.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
You could feed on them in-game, so I'm guessing ghouls.
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
Ah, so that's what the slayer is.After they spent so much time getting rid of the exalts? Don't be silly.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Please, the Slayer is even weaker than a starting Dragon-Blood, to say nothing of a Solar. At best, Buffy's a heroic mortal.