Dawn was laid out flat on the floor, the upper half of her body hidden under the bed, looking for the mate of the shoe on her right foot. An odd assortment of shoes, socks, books, a swimsuit top and a family of dust bunnies piled up around her.
"There it is!" she cried and scrambled back out, grasping the chunky heeled shoe. She set her back against the bed, slid the shoe on and began to lace it when she noticed the book by her foot. It was "The Velveteen Rabbit." She ran her hand along the embossed lettering of the title, thinking back to when she'd first found out she wasn't real.
She wasn't a Summers or Dawn or really a girl. She was a Key. She'd freaked. Slash, burn and run. Trying her best to push them all away. Then one night she'd heard a tapping at the window. Someone was throwing pebbles. She'd peeked through the curtains and saw Spike picking through a collection of small stones in his hand. She'd opened the window and leaned out, but he disappeared. Then she'd looked down at the roof and saw the brown paper package.
"The Velveteen Rabbit" had been inside. She knew the inscription by heart. "Bit, in all the ways it matters, you're real to me."
Mom and Buffy never knew that this was what helped her turn the corner. And now... and now it just added to her confusion. She'd been trying to keep her anger up, but then she'd be caught off guard by some reminder, like this book. How could the Spike who had known the exact right thing to say and do back then, who'd done right by her and Buffy more times that she could count be the same Spike who attacked Buffy? The same Spike who ran off to get a soul of all things and returned mad as a hatter? She didn't know if it made her head or heart hurt more. She could only imagine what it did to Buffy, since she wouldn't really talk about it.
She squeezed her eyes and the book tight, finally getting it. Why he'd known that this book would resonate. Maybe she should offer it back to him. Maybe it would help.
"Dawn! Hurry up! We're going to be late," yelled Buffy up the stairs.
Dawn opened her eyes and sighed. Maybe there were things worse than being formed from a ball of energy by a bunch of monks. She tucked the book back under the bed and loped down the stairs. Later. She'd figure it out later.
"There it is!" she cried and scrambled back out, grasping the chunky heeled shoe. She set her back against the bed, slid the shoe on and began to lace it when she noticed the book by her foot. It was "The Velveteen Rabbit." She ran her hand along the embossed lettering of the title, thinking back to when she'd first found out she wasn't real.
She wasn't a Summers or Dawn or really a girl. She was a Key. She'd freaked. Slash, burn and run. Trying her best to push them all away. Then one night she'd heard a tapping at the window. Someone was throwing pebbles. She'd peeked through the curtains and saw Spike picking through a collection of small stones in his hand. She'd opened the window and leaned out, but he disappeared. Then she'd looked down at the roof and saw the brown paper package.
"The Velveteen Rabbit" had been inside. She knew the inscription by heart. "Bit, in all the ways it matters, you're real to me."
Mom and Buffy never knew that this was what helped her turn the corner. And now... and now it just added to her confusion. She'd been trying to keep her anger up, but then she'd be caught off guard by some reminder, like this book. How could the Spike who had known the exact right thing to say and do back then, who'd done right by her and Buffy more times that she could count be the same Spike who attacked Buffy? The same Spike who ran off to get a soul of all things and returned mad as a hatter? She didn't know if it made her head or heart hurt more. She could only imagine what it did to Buffy, since she wouldn't really talk about it.
She squeezed her eyes and the book tight, finally getting it. Why he'd known that this book would resonate. Maybe she should offer it back to him. Maybe it would help.
"Dawn! Hurry up! We're going to be late," yelled Buffy up the stairs.
Dawn opened her eyes and sighed. Maybe there were things worse than being formed from a ball of energy by a bunch of monks. She tucked the book back under the bed and loped down the stairs. Later. She'd figure it out later.