I tried to find it, of course. The spark. The missing … the piece that fit. That would make me fit. Because you didn’t want… God, I can’t… Not with you looking. I dreamed of killing you. I think they were dreams. So weak. Did you make me weak, thinking of you, holding myself, and spilling useless buckets of salt over your … ending? Angel-he should’ve warned me. He makes a good show of forgetting, but it’s here, in me, all the time. The spark. I wanted to give you what you deserve, and I got it. They put the spark in me and now all it does is burn. It’s what you wanted, right? It’s what you wanted, right? And-and now everybody’s in here, talking. Everything I did…everyone I- and him … and it … the other, the thing beneath-beneath you. It’s here too. Everybody. They all just tell me go … go … to hell. Buffy, shame on you. Why does a man do what he mustn’t? For her. To be hers. To be the kind of man who would nev- to be a kind of man. She shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved. So everything’s OK, right? Can-can we rest now? Buffy…can we rest?