During her time in Lawrence, Buffy had built up a shell. Not the spiral kind with the roar of the ocean inside of it, Buffy's wasn't elegant or even entirely functional. it was more like some old discarded bit of shell that had been battered by the surf until it was smooth and thin and riddled with cracks and holes. She'd found it and pulled it close over her vulnerabilities, and she'd worked hard at patching up the holes.
And she'd nurtured that shell until she thought it was part of her. It was a work in progress, but someday she'd get it right, and be herself again, strong and flexible and able to let the world touch her without flinching. But even now, sometimes she felt comfortable enough to poke out and touch the actual world, sharp and violent as it was. Interacting, defending, attacking, even. Exposing herself, but always with a fallback position.
She didn't realize how much she depended on it until it was ripped away by an experience that she had no defenses against. She could shut out the bad, the things she hated, the things that made her miserable (everything made her miserable) but... Euphoria. Pleasure. The feeling that things were right, that the world wasn't out to get her, that no matter what happened it would be okay...
She wasn't sure how well she remembered the place she'd been while dead, the memory of perfection faded when exposed to this rough world, but it didn't matter if it was really the same, it was closer than anything else had been, so close it hurt, so close that she had no defense against the hurt and the longing and
She twitched, a voice intruding on her chaotic feelings. Was she alright?
The question hit her like everything in this hellish place, harsh and pointed and shockingly real. All knife edges. She wanted the soft euphoria, that fake impression of something even better...and it was gone, and it wasn't real because this was real. This was the world, and she knew that however it felt the question had been meant kindly. But there was only one answer she could give.
"No," she said, her voice muffled. Laboriously, she raised her head, revealing tear-stained cheeks. "No..." Heartbroken. Or just broken. She didn't look to see who had asked.