Chapter 1: Decisions
Dawn POV
Replay the words. Memorize them. What did she say?
I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles… Tell Giles…
What am I supposed to tell Giles?
I press my hands together and try to focus. What was it…. it's important. I think through it again. She was standing in front of me, calm, like she understood something… Tell giles I figured it out. Oh, that's right. She figured it out. Something. I don't know. And, and I'm okay.
"Okay…" I force myself to look back up from the ground, into her unseeing eyes. Okay? This is okay to you?
And give my love to my friends. Friends.
Xander. Willow. Giles. Tara. Anya. Spike.
Xander looks like he's about to break his hand on a concrete wall. Willow might be about to call upon the forces of darkness. Giles is sitting on the ground, tears streaming down his dirty face. Tara isn't crazy anymore, so that's good. Anya is propped up against the bricks that had hit her. She'll be okay.
Spike has his hands clenched across his body like he's about to rip in two. Veins and tendons are sticking up on his neck, looking like they'll burst right through the surface. His mouth is open, and I can tell he's crying out in pain and saying something, but I can't hear it. I don't hear anything. Just Buffy's last words going through my mind.
You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world… is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.
I… I have to remember. I have to remember everything she said. Replay it. Again. Etch it on my heart.
End Dawn POV
Giles has to look away in order to regain his composure. He has to get a hold of himself. There are things that need to happen, decisions that need to be made. First thing is…
"Dawn." Giles whispers his name, his voice hoarse from his cries. Dawn's little frame is shaking, and she looks like she's mumbling something to herself, but no words come out. Dawn… the key… Buffy's sister.
Giles looks away quickly, hoping Dawn was too absorbed in her thoughts to see that one second of blame Giles had placed on her. No one to blame. This is what happens to Slayers. Buffy always knew it.
Giles looks up from Dawn and watches Xander extricate his hand from some rubble. Giles hadn't even noticed him taking out his frustration in his characteristically violent way.
"Xander. Take Dawn." Not getting a response, Giles gently put his hand on his shoulder. "Please, Xander. Dawn. Take her out of here, before people start coming."
Xander nodded slowly, and stood up shakily. He walks over to Dawn as though he's feeling his way through a fog.
"Dawn. Come on." Dawn doesn't respond, and just keeps whispering something to herself, her eyes staring blankly at her hands. "Dawny, we have to go. Please."
Dawn slowly looks up from wherever her mind had been, and focuses in on Xander. Big, funny Xander.
"I… can't move." Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, and she looked back down at her hands. Xander had never noticed how much she didn't look like Buffy. He made a mental note of never saying that outloud.
Reaching down gently, Xander brought her up to her feet. She leaned on him like he was the only thing keeping her on her feet. Moving slowly but steadily, Xander went to where Anya was resting, and pulled her up as well. Nodding a goodbye to Giles, he escorted both girls away from the destruction.
Alright. Next.
"Willow. Tara. Are you capable of doing magic?" Giles crouched next to the girls, who were huddled together.
Willow nodded, but Giles wasn't sure if she had entirely understood his question.
"W-what do you want us to d-do, Giles?" Tara asked for Willow, who was trying to wipe the tears away. They came faster than she could clear them away.
"The police will be here soon. We can't… we can't let anyone find out. About Buffy." Willow finally met his eyes, and he saw the confusion there. "The um… The news would spread. That there's no Slayer."
At this pronouncement, the three of them looked up at Spike. His cries had been silenced so suddenly, it was like someone had slapped them. Spike made no other movement or indication that he had really heard them, so Giles looked back down at Willow.
Understanding began to dawn in her eyes. Buffy is dead. Faith was in prison. No new slayer would be called. No slayer, means…
"Yeah. We can… we can distract them. Make them go away. You take care of um… you know…" Willow stood up, hoping her knees would hold her weight. As she stood, she felt bile rise in her throat as her eye caught Buffy's. "Oh… oh God…" Leaning over, she emptied her stomach into a pile of bricks.
"Shh… it's okay… take your time…" Tara rubbed her back and held her hair for her, waiting for Willow to finish.
Giles turned from the girls, and stepped over to Spike and Buffy.
"Spike." No answer. "We need to… we need to move her. I can't do it on my own."
Spike didn't turn or acknowledge him in any way, but Giles knew he'd heard him. Spike, who was now eerily quiet, just sat and stared at the motionless Slayer.
After a few more beats, Giles wondered if it wasn't a lost cause. Just as he decided he'd have to see if he could manage on his own, Spike crouched over Buffy and hugged her limp body too his. It took him a moment to stand and steady himself—that had been a fall to remember—but he was on his feet soon enough, looking at Giles for further instruction.
Swallowing hard, Giles led the way to his car. This was going to be along night.
000
Everyone met back at the Magic Box. No one had suggested it per se, they just collectively didn't want to be at the Summer's home. Not yet.
"Dawn's asleep in the training room. I made a bed for her out of… I don't' know." Xander plopped down at the table next to Willow, and put his hand in her hair, stroking it absently. "Are you all… I mean no ones physically hurt, right?" Willow and Tara shook their heads, and looked up at Anya.
"Well yes, those bricks fell on me. I think I'm okay, though. I took some, um… magic roots." Anya stood up from the table and absently meandered to the counter.
"Do either of you uh, know where Giles is?"
"No. We think he… we think he took Buffy somewhere. We haven't heard from him-"
All three of them looked up suddenly when they heard a crash from behind the counter.
"Sorry. I… this crystal was being offensive and insensitive. It's supposed to bring luck and long life to the wearer. I didn't like that." Anya shook where she stood, and cast her eyes around looking for a broom. "I'll clean it… I'll…"
Xander stood and strode over to Anya. Taking her in his arms, he pressed her up against him.
Shaking harder, Anya collapsed against him.
"What's going to happen, Xander?" She finally choked out, peering up at him with fear and grief in her eyes.
"I don't know, Anya. We'll just wait here for Giles to come back and… then we'll figure everything out."
Xander led Anya back to the table, and they sat down quietly. Tara reached out and gently held one of Anya's hands, trying to offer her what support she could. Anya held it tightly, thinking briefly that she had changed so much in such a short amount of time.
After some indeterminable amount of time, the bell sounded and the door opened. Giles came into view, holding his check which sported a freshly forming bruise.
"Giles! What happened? Are you okay?"
"Well, you should see the other guy." Giles half smiled tightly, and walked briskly to the four at the table. A few moments later, Spike trailed in after him, eyes closed, massaging his head.
Xander looked up at Giles, a question in his eyes. Giles waved him down, and motioned for Spike to come in all the way. He'd been hovering near the door, apparently deciding if he really wanted to be surrounded by the grieving scoobies. They hadn't been known for being able to control their emotions in the past, and were prone to taking out their feelings on him in a very violent manner. Deciding that ending up a pile of dust didn't really sound like too bad of an idea, Spike continued to head towards the gang.
"I daresay I deserved this." He said by way of explanation, motioning to his cheek. "And he deserves the migraine." Spike tossed him a 'sod off' look and sat down on the counter, looking irritated but harmless. "Moving along. We have left Buffy at the Summer's residence. In the basement. I've placed a spell around her for the time being, keeping her body in stasis, until we've agreed what to do." Taking off his glasses, Giles stared at the lenses, waiting for his words to sink in.
"What to do? What do you mean, Giles? Surely you're not suggesting we zombify Buffy. That would be wrong, and… Icky. Right?" Anya looked at Xander for confirmation, and he nodded his head.
"Right, Anya. But I don't think that's what he means."
"Quite. WE have options. I was hoping to get Dawn's opinion, but…"
"She's asleep. Let's talk first, and involve her later."
"Right. It really just comes down to our personal preference. Do we want to keep Buffy's death a secret, or no? I vote yes." Giles began to wipe his glasses absently, remembering all the times Buffy had eased him about his nervous habit.
"Well… I get the whole 'don't want word getting out that the Slayer is gone' thing, but… we can't just keep this a secret. She has… you know, people who know her . at school. And family. Her dad—
"Buffy's father doesn't even know about Joyce." Xander's voice is loud and hard, and the others look up at him. "Not that it's right to keep this from him. Or maybe it is. I don't know."
"I tried contacting him. He won't answer my messages. I left them vague, of course, but um…"
"But the bloke's too busy livin the life to notice his little girl's gone and stopped livin hers." Spikes expression was dark as he took out a cigarette and fumbled with his lighter.
Silence fell as they all thought about his statement. It was true.
"In any case, Hank doesn't know right now. He doesn't have to know either. Another thing to consider si what's best for Dawn. It's a complicated question."
"You mean, if Dawn would be better off with a father who hasn't given a hoot about her, her sister, or her mom in years, or if she would be better off in foster care, or if for some crazy reason it would bee best if her real family took her in? The ones who know everything about her and still loves her unconditionally? Yeah, complicated question, there." Willow's lip trembles, and she forces it to stop by taking on a grimace. "She's not going anywhyere… I mean unless she wants to. You don't think she wants to, do you?" Willow turns to Tara, who whispers no.
Everyone was silent for a moment while considering Willow's words and their own feelings. Spike wondered for a moment if it would be easier for him to protect Dawn if all these wankers were out of her life.
"Does anyone have any objections to keeping Buffy's death a secret, and taking care of Dawn ourselves?"
"How are we going to fake it? I mean… we can pretend all we want, but… what's the difference between Buffy dying and Buffy suddenly disappearing? It seems to me that it will just end up the same." Anya crosses her arms over her chest and leans into Xander.
"The bot. Red could fix it." Spike brought his now lit cigarette up to his lips, semi hoping his mentioning the bot would get Xander in a tiff. It would be a short fight, of course, but some violence was feeling about due.
"Yeah. I could. I mean it'll take time, and it couldn't ever replace her, but…"
"Its decided then. Now about the funeral… I have contacts. And some left over bribe money. We can have a private funeral for her. We can put her somewhere nobody goes, maybe put some glamor over her name in case someone stumbles across it." Giles looked up from his glasses to the four sitting at the table. He could tell they weren't really listening. "Never mind. I'll take care of it. This is enough for tonight. Go home, get some rest. I'll contact you."
Standing, Willow glanced at the back room. Before she could start her way back there to get Dawn, Spike told everyone to hold on a second.
"Just one last piece of business for you lot. I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise to Buffy, and I'm keeping it. so if you have any objections, just stake me." Spike turned from the group, and looked at the back door. "Or set fire to my crypt if you're too chicken." Throwing his half-smoked cigarette on the ground, he started walking to the back room. Before opening the door, he turned his head and made sure he had their attention. "And migraine or no, I'll bloody well clock anyone who suggests I do otherwise."
Turning away from them again, he opened the door, glanced at the sleeping teen, and made his way for the sewers.
