Ohhhh.
Det var så bra. Okej, så de censurerade när Anya skärde upp sitt ansikte, men det var det enda jag reagerade på.
...Eller klippte de bort när Dawn sprutade eld? Jag tittade bort just då.
Spike: I'm ... what did you do?
Dawn: Me? Nothing.
Spike: Her hands.
Dawn: Um, I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that.
Spike: I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. Isn't that right?
Buffy: Yeah. That's ... what I had to do.
Tara: You shouldn't worry about it.
Buffy: Um, I remember something, last ... night, uh...
Xander: Buff?
Buffy: Um ... the photographs. O-of us. They changed.
Tara: How did they change?
Buffy: They were ... dead. I-I-I mean, we were dead. Like, um ... dead bodies? But, but then they were okay. So I just, you know, figured it was me. That I was going crazy.
Anya: Well, maybe you are. Going crazy. From Hell. - No. You're fine.
Spike: Uh ... I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I had done that ... even if I didn't make it ... you wouldn't have had to jump. But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but ... after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again ... do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ... Every night I save you.
Buffy: I was happy. Wherever I ... was ... I was happy. At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it. Time ... didn't mean anything ... nothing had form ... but I was still me, you know? And I was warm ... and I was loved ... and I was finished. Complete. I don't understand about theology or dimensions, or ... any of it, really ... but I think I was in heaven. And now I'm not. I was torn out of there. Pulled out ... by my friends. Everything here is ... hard, and bright, and violent. Everything I feel, everything I touch ... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that ... knowing what I've lost... They can never know. Never.
Oooooh. Dramatiskt :D