DISCLAIMER: Do. Not. Own.
I Loved You First
Dawn dug through what remained of their supplies. Sunnydale had turned into a crater and Spike had turned into a sparkler in celebration of their independence. The losses were huge. Not just Spike, but Anya, Amanda, and other potentials joined the ranks of the millions who died on the hellmouth. Some went quietly on the trip to L.A., never waking up from their nap. One had a grand mal seizure moments away from the hospital. It left all of them restless and disturbed, looking at her twisted and pained face.
Now they were staying in hotel rooms provided for them by the new and suspicious law firm that Angel worked for, Wolfram and Hart. Angel gave them all a reassuring smile and she could tell he was relieved to see Buffy and Faith walking out (relatively) unharmed. She could tell that Buffy's suspicion hurt him and maybe that's the reason why he decided to give each of the Original Scooby gang their own bedrooms.
Angel discreetly slid her the key to a fancy suite and winked at her baffled look. Even as Angelus, he had always had the habit of spoiling her. Granted the definition of "spoiling" changed a little bit when being applied to Angelus. His way of spoiling her was to leave her porcelain dolls and drawing out her death instead of leaving her corpse for Buffy to find. But that's just a technicality.
When Dawn had walked into her room, with its own bathroom and kitchen, she nearly fainted with relief. After months of sharing a room with several potentials and then one bathroom with all the members of the household, this hotel room looked like heaven. And that was before she discovered the bathtub had Jacuzzi jets.
It was only when midnight rolled around that Dawn realized her mistake in taking a single. She should have known. After the death of her mother, Spike had comforted her. After the death of her sister, Spike had comforted her. When she was alone with Tara, she nearly went on self-destruct mode. And now that Spike was dead, who would comfort her?
So now Dawn dug desperately through the supply bag, searching for her prescription sleeping pills. After Buffy died to save her, she had such vicious nightmares that the only way she would sleep was when she collapsed from exhaustion. And even then, it was restless. She would wake screaming and sweaty, singlehandedly startling anyone in the house out of their own slumber. Eventually, Anya had told Willow to give her a sleeping drought, but Spike had insisted she see a doctor about it. He never did trust the magicks too much. After Buffy came back, the nightmares died down a bit, but every now and again, she would wake up so terrified that she could barely see straight (she had gotten better at swallowing her screams, after being yelled at one too many times). Usually, she would stay awake for days until her body shutdown into a dreamless slumber. But during the battle with the First, she had no choice but to take her sleeping pills. Zombie!Dawn was definitely not of the helpful variety.
Right now, she couldn't afford to stay awake because she could feel the tears pushing at her eyelids and she promised herself she wouldn't cry ever again. Especially not over him because he wasn't her friend anymore. They weren't friends. And her thoughts were racing and she needed to take two and pour the rest down the toilet before she became delirious. She needed to sleep now before her grief consumed her. Dawn cried out with relief when the pill bottle slapped against her hands and ripped it from the bag. Her hands were trembling so bad, it took her three minutes to get the "stupid bloody fucking" child safety cap to come off.
Dawn reached in eagerly, her fingers grasping for her tiny little saviors, only to find… paper?
Sure enough, folded inside was a piece of paper. It took her a few moments of careful maneuvering, but finally it was nestled in her palm.
She opened the note slowly, wondering whom in the world put it in her pill bottle. She took one glance at the contents before throwing it away from her like it was a lock of Glory's hair. It was Spike's handwriting. She clenched down on a sob, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
He knew her all too well, the cheeky bastard. Part of her wanted to scream at it in wordless fury. She could see herself tearing it to shreds and flushing it down the toilet, opening the window and letting it blow away in the wind, shoving the piece of paper in her mouth and letting the words dissolve on her tongue. After everything that occurred, how dare he assume he had the right to the last words between them?
Dawn looked away from the letter, only to find herself confronted with the mirror image of herself. Her green eyes were hollow and framed with dark circles. Her pale skin was practically gray and stretched tightly over her tiny frame. Bones stuck out, making her look like she was all angles and shadows. Her hair was flat and heavy, lacking its usual shine. She looked dead. Maybe she was.
With a sigh, Dawn apprehensively picked up the letter. She didn't know whether it would bite her or turn to dust at her touch. It did neither. Despite her better judgment, she began to read.
Dearest Bit,
I loved you first.
I know you may not believe it, but it's true. I loved you first. When Angelus captured you, and I saw your sweet little face for the first time, with those big green eyes endlessly begging for protection and love, I cared about you. And I hated it.
Dru teased me about it and I had to use all my restraint not to go into that little room he kept you chained in. Because I didn't know whether or not I would hurt you or help you. I hated you for making me human. 'Cause I was the Big Bad. Yes, I am evil, 'bit, don't you snort at me!
Dawn sniffled, a small smile on her face. He still knew her, even when they hadn't spoken to each other for almost a year. He knew her better than she knew herself. She read on.
See it was your spunk, your fire, the way you stuck your tongue out at the poof right after he had finished a bit of mind torture. I loved you.
And I still do. You are my sweetest downfall. Perhaps… perhaps that is the reason why I fell for your sister. Because she is so much like you. It took me a year to realize it, but every declaration, every poem, every loving thought about Buffy was born out of my feelings for you. How I feel about you is the closest I've come to having a healthy relationship in my life. And considering I'm a century old vampire with cuddly feelings for seventeen year-old ancient key… well, that really says something about my life, doesn't it?
What I did… had to be done. I know you hate hearing this, but I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was break a promise to you. Just goes to show you that guys are all bloody wankers and you should stay away from them. Red's a smart bird, take lessons from her.
Dawn let out a phlegmy laugh, wiping away her tears with the back of her sweater.
Knew I could make you laugh, pidgin. God, bit, I needed you to have a future, the one you deserve. I would die a million bloody, painful deaths if it meant knowing that you had a bright and happy future with a hubby, two point five brats, a dog and all that rot. I have to go.
I met you once. You won't remember of course, no one does. It was the one memory that the monks forgot to fix. Water through the cracks, I suppose. But when I first met Buffy, she was an only child. You didn't exist yet. But you did. I can't explain it. But Buffy had your eyes. Bright green, aching with curiosity and hungry for passion.
The next time I saw Buffy, her eyes had dulled to the gray-green and she had a kid sis. You, bit.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not good at goodbyes. Which is ok because I know you hate them worse than Britney Spears. So I won't say goodbye. And I won't regret any of it.
I loved you first.
Dawn.
Yours forever,
William
With tears in her eyes, Dawn clutched the letter to her chest, willing the words to tattoo into her very flesh. She lay down under the covers and felt herself fall asleep, finally rested and at peace.
For who better to comfort her when Spike died than Spike?
You are my sweetest downfall,I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of papers lies my truth,
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was blonde when we first met.
.end.