Title: The Warrior and the Champion: A New Dawn
Author: Death by Vista
Rating: T
Summary: Buffy sacrifices herself to save the Key… and Dawn runs to the only person she ca think of: Angel. What problems will the youngest Summers' presence in the Hyperion cause?
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Note: /.../ thoughts; -...- dream
"You know, if you're going to sit in here sulking, you could at least pretend to debate my impending raise, ya know.." Cordelia Chase's voice was a rather loud announcement of her sudden presence in her Boss' office. Angel didn't bother to look up from the nondescript tome laid open upon his desk, knowing that to acknowledge her would somehow give her the impression she could stay. However, he did manage a rather subtle scowl at the Ex-May Queen's chosen topic. Indeed, her only topic as of late.. as if she were some broken record stuck perpetually on a nag cycle.
"Yeah.. I'm fairly sure we've been over this once before, Cordelia. No, wait, many times before: I do not have the money to give you a raise! Sorry." This time, it is Cordelia who scowls. Though in all truth, it falls a bit short, coming out as an irritated pout. And, in Angel's mind, not even a cute one. Just.. annoying. Anyways, with one hand propped defiantly on her hip, and the other waving emphatically, she plunders on as if she hadn't heard.
"My landlord is having a major wiggins about my inability to pay rent on time! And he's being mean! You know, threatening, and – arrhhh!" Her hands raises quickly to her throbbing temples and she barely manages to guide her bum to the stiff chair located behind her.. saving herself from an embarrassing fall to the ground. As she suffers the sights and sounds of her latest Higher Power whammy, she is vaguely aware of Angel screaming for Gunn to bring meds. Ah, sweet, medicinal relief! It really sucks being a Higher Power's lapdog! Cordelia bursts into tears, her slender form rocking back and forth within the strict confines of the chair. So much pain.. so much loss.. Angel, Wes, and Gunn watch on, perplexed and swallowed by an endless sense of uselessness as she goes through the vision alone.. always alone. Angel kneels before his closest friend, cool fingers gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"Shh.. it's alright, Cordy. We're right here with you.. but we need to know what you saw so we can help.." She begins to inhale breath sharply, as if she has been running for ages, and is now heavily winded.
"She's so sad.. so alone, Angel! At.. at a bus terminal, with red signs everywhere. A gang of vampires were attacking.. oh God, she wanted them to get her.. to kill her! And she.. I think.. we know her, somehow. ..!" She fades out into wrenching sobs as she fights the emotions of the vision. It takes much probing and prodding, but they manage to get a few more details and take off into the misty night, prepared to be heroes.
----------
Her breathing rattled harshly within her chest. Her lungs felt on fire, burning with every pump of her legs. She had just vacated the bus terminal when they descended upon her. Blood thirsty vampires. Despite her ruthless desire to let them rip her to shreds, her instincts took over, and forced her to run. Fat lot of good that had done! She had no recollection of this part of L.A. So, through the maze of dark, decrepit alleys, and relentlessly twisting streets, she finds herself right back at the bus terminal where she started.
The teen was just preparing to duck into a side alley when it happened. A large pair of hands wrapped into the smooth material of her rucksack and gave a violent tug backward. She fell gracelessly onto her back, arms flailing, legs kicking as 250 pounds of vampire flesh pressed her flat to the grimy alley floor. Fortunate for her, the vampire was so consumed with blood lust, and so intent on getting at her rapid pulse point, it had no time to register the quick movement of her hand.. to see the thin, long piece of wood she pulled from her jacket pocket. Oh, but it felt it.. felt the wood pierce it's flesh and dig deep into it's dead heart. The creature seemed to melt inward, a cloud of dust exploding over her. She coughed and gagged as it settled.. dusting her hair and clothes.. casting an eerie white about her.
She barely managed to gain her footing in just enough time for two members of the vamp gang to plow her football player style to the pavement once more. Stars swirled within her range of sight as pain tidal waved against her senses.. receding, then thrashing all the harder.. deeper into her. The coppery scent of blood hung thick and alluring in the alley, the cuts so fresh upon her stomach having split open and allowed her vitae to ooze out. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was a black, billowing coat that looked so oddly like Spikes. But here.. in L.A.? Had he truly followed her?
----------
The look of sadness and pain in Cordelia's eyes had drained much morale for the employees of Angel Investigations. They were, after all, her close friends... family, even. Angel, Wes, and Gunn had basically fled from the poor woman.
"Yo, man.. I don't mean to be the downer.. but there ain't nothing here. Maybe Miss C got the wrong address.." Gunn grumbled as they walked the terminal Cordy had struggled to describe. Angel quickly put distance between him and his associated, knowing a tiff was soon to follow.
"Or, perhaps, you are being a tad impatient, Charles. It would be prudent to scout about in case the victim does show." Bickerin' like a bunch of two year olds!
"Well, I'm just sayin.." Angel whirled about then, jacket billowing ominously as he faced them angrily.
"Quiet, both of you! There are bad guys around, remember? Besides, someone's coming... er.. a lot of someones.." Angel ran for the opening of an alley at the far end of the bus terminal. He was just in time to see the girl attacked by the first vamp when she rounded the corner. And just as Cordy had said, he somehow knew this girl.. even though her face was obscured.. something about her scent..
However, he did not have time to ponder this new train of thought, because just as she gained her footing, two more vamps were upon her, and blood filled the stale night air. Since he was the closest, with added vampire speed and all, he descended upon the fledglings. He thrust both hands forward, his fancy wrist-deployed stakes ripped through their hearts and caused a halo of white dust to fall upon the unconscious form.
Dust clung to rumpled denim and torn cotton... a few specks littered tear stained cheeks and silken tendrils of deep brown. Her beautiful features were such a macabre mask of sadness... her posture one that welcomed death. Angel wanted to cry for the defeat this poor soul embraced. He then did something he tries his hardest to avoid: he breathed. A sharp intake of stale breathe when he had no need of air. You see, he did indeed know this teenager. Lying broken and defeated before him was none other than Dawn Summers. He heard Wes and Gunn approach, which he took to mean that the stragglers were dead, and the fight was over. So, with speed and infinite care, he picked Dawn up and carried her back to the Hyperion.
----------
"God, it's about time! I was beginning to think I'd be stuck here all night..." Cordelia angrily chastised Wes and Gunn as they entered the hotel. It was, of course, her way of expressing concern for her friends without appearing to care.
"Please fetch some bandages, Cordy. The girl is injured. You were right. She's young Miss..." Wesley is cut off in mid sentence as Cordy pushes past him.
"...Dawn!" She gasps as Angel entered, the girl still cradled limply in his arms. He leveled a very impatient gaze at the woman as he settled Dawn down into a chair.
" Cordy.. bandages, now!" He growled the last word with such vehemence that everyone feared he would go bumpy. He didn't, but it had been enough to make the drama queen move for the first aid kit.
"Gunn.. Wes.. prepare the room across from mine.. fresh sheets and everything. Cordy, think you can bandage her up?" Gunn looked as if Angel's command to play nursemaid was going to send him into a fit. However, when he sees flecks of gold in a normally chocolate brown gaze, he keeps his peace. So, up to the room the two went while Cordelia bandaged Dawn's stomach.
Angel retreated to the kitchen, half-heartedly searching cupboards and shelves for something to fix the girl. He settled on a large glass of orange juice and re-heating some homemade soup Wesley had brought for supper. He figured the man wouldn't mind sacrificing the stuff for their friend.
//Why would Dawn come to L.A.? What could've driven the Key to my city? What creature robbed Dawnie of her innocent beauty?! Why has no one come for the girl? How could Buffy let this happen!?//
"Uh-oh.. brood alert. Shouldn't you be calling Buffy or Willow and telling them we have the Slayer's little sister here? I don't know about you, but I could so go without a Slayer bitch fest!" Cordy launched into one of her verbal tirades as she pushed past Angel and stirred the soup he neglected. Angel growled this time.. low and distant, though he managed a few coherent words.
"Her. Name.Is. Dawn!" He emphasized each word in a growled tone that caused Cordy to flinch. Something he missed as her back was to him.
" I know Dawn's name. Dawn has been moved upstairs. Dawn will be awake soon, and probably hungry. So, excuse me!" She pushed not too gently past him, bowl of soup in one hand, glass of juice in the other.
----------
- pain.. leather tethers twisting.. tearing.. burning into the tender flesh of wrists. The starry night sky clear and unyielding. Her friends were engaged in a battle on another world.. because her world consisted of this swaying scaffold and leather bindings that held her captive. She is the Key.. she is not of their world. And then.. as it happened every night since The Night, he is suddenly there.. that smile so cruel because it is simple and teasing.. cruel because there is no malice, no evil corruption.. just an unwavering sense of duty and loyalty as the knife arks.. as sharpened teeth slowly cut through fabric and bite into the flesh beneath. Left of stomach.. right of stomach.. blood flowing freely -
----------
She awoke to the sound of screaming sobs. Only after her mind shook free of the lingering nightmare did she realize that the earsplitting sound was coming from her. Dawn gulped for air.. forced every breath in and out, though lungs desired nothing more than to cease function.
She was aware of Cordy.. short hair bobbing as she fussed over a bowl and glass sitting haphazard upon an end table. Some black guy she did not recognize was holding up the doorframe, arms crossed in front of him, scowling something awful. Mr. Wesley was pacing at the foot of the bed pulling the best Giles impression Dawn had ever seen. He was muttering something indistinct, a white handkerchief furiously cleaning his glasses. All that was missing was Angel...
And then she realized someone was whispering soothing words.. lips almost pressed to the curve of her ear.. a pair of cool arms, silk clad, cradled her form protectively. On instinct, her mind registered this as Spike, so she curled closer.. tighter into the caring embrace.
"S..Spike?" She had barely managed to croak from parched lips. She heard Cordelia gasp as if she had been burned, and Wesley intake a sharp, ragged breathe. Add that to the sudden cease of soothing words, and she knew it was not the bleached wonder.
"Dawn..?" The voice implored softly from behind her. The voice of a 400+-year-old vampire that was trying to mask the pain and indignation in that one, simple word. Angel. No.. he would hate her too! Not Angel.. she couldn't let him hate her too.. She suddenly pushed free of Angel's arms, rushing for the door and some modicum of freedom, which was a bad idea, because Gunn was still perched there. He tensed visibly and gave no indication of vacating his spot.
"Miss Summers.. please calm down. You are perfectly safe! You are at Angel investigations.. p-please.. I'll just ring your sister, and we can get this all straightened out.." Wrong answer, Brit boy. Dawn screamed uncontrollably then, launched herself at Gunn with fingers arched in threatening claws. Too bad for him he was the closest. She began to beat her fists against him, nails slashing down his back as he tried to get a hold of her slender form.. long, angry gashes pouring small trickles of blood down his shirt.
"Move! Lemme out! He'll hate me too! Just like Xander.. Willow.. you'll all wish I'd died instead!" She was wailing now, fighting harder, and forcing Gunn to reign in his mounting desire to fight back.
"Damn, get this crazy chick off me!" He grunted, finally snapping and giving Dawn a violent shove. Angel was there yet again, his silk clad arms engulfing her waist to keep her from falling. Cordy ushered the other two from the room as Dawn turned, clinging desperately to Angel this time.
"I-I'm sorry, Angel! I cou-couldn't stop her.. it's my..my fault! I.. I should be dead, not B-Buffy!" Her voice came out a pinched, hopeless sob. "The Key was supposed to die.. I.. I tried to make it r-right, I did.. I.. tried to jump, but sh-she wouldn't let me! Go ahead and hate me.. everyone else does!" With that said, she fell limp in his arms, having lost all will to fight. Now it was Angel's turn to look lost and despaired. Many things had happened upon his return from Hell. Chief amongst them had been his relationship with the Slayer. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't still in love with her to some degree.. just not to the point that his love for her consumed all other things. He had, however, partially lied when he said he left Sunnydale for her. Maybe a part of him had.. but, for the majority, he left to be free of her. That's right, free. Free to search for his redemption. And now, Buffy was gone, and Dawnie lay broken in his arms.. her beautiful light diminished by darkness.
"Shhh.. it's okay, Dawnie. No one hates you.. I don't hate you! But we don't have to discuss this now.. it can wait. You need to rest and eat something... please." The last word brooked no argument, and the look of protest died upon her features. Instead, she allowed herself to be guided back to the bed, a bowl of lukewarm soup thrust into one hand, a glass of room temperature OJ into the other. "Eat.. Cordy or someone will be up to check on you in a bit." He was gone before she had time to protest.. or think really.
"Man, that had to be tough.. trying to comfort the girl and she calls him Spike?! Harsh.." Cordelia regretted the topic as soon as Angel rounded the corner. As quick as he was, he couldn't hide the look of pain and rejection that pooled in those chocolate brown orbs.. already layered with centuries of pain.. now with two new pains to taint his soul.. to fuel his need for redemption. Yeah, everyone could feel a nice, long brood in the air. But then, the pain was gone. Hidden by that mask of mysterious, emotionless cool.
"I'll be in my office.." brooding, so don't disturb. Everyone mentally finished his sentence for him as he retreated into the half-light of his office and closed the door.
---------
Dawn had grudgingly done as Angel requested, eating the soup and finishing the juice. They left a bad taste in her mouth as she placed the empty dishes on the bedside table. With a shiver, she made her way to her rucksack and slipped it back on.. glad to have the familiar weight added. Once she was ready, she made a mad dash for the door.. only to find Wesley staring her down.
"I would not advise a retreat at this moment, Miss Summers. Your wounds are still quite fresh, and as you have seen, this does not prove a hospitable city."
"Dawn. My name is Dawn. You.. she was Miss Summers to you. I.. I'm not her!" A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill as she eyed Wes, tried to find the best route through him.
"You might as well remove your shoes and stay a spell. I highly doubt Angel will let you leave here until he is sure what has happened."
"Angel so is not the boss of me! And.. and it's pretty obvious what's happened.. BUFFY IS DEAD! She died to save the KEY! She died to save me, a sister that isn't real. Giles.. Tara.. Spike.. they all wish I would've died like I was suppose to. They wish Little Dawnie was dead and out of their lives so they would still have Buffy! And.. and you know what? SO DO I!"
Dawn's sudden rant sent Wes into a state of fluster that had him grabbing her bowl and glass and brandishing them as if they were a shield. Just as suddenly as she began to rant, it ended and she was in a sad stupor. Great, two broods under one roof. All is doomed.
"Wesley? Where are you? The 'boss' is on the phone, and we should so be there when he gets through!" Cordelia peeked in through Dawn's door. She strolled casually forward as if she were making her way toward Wes, but she turned at the last minute.. grabbing hold of Dawn's rucksack and pulling sharply, the pack pulling free in her hands. Wes cleared the room quickly, carrying the dishes to the kitchen. Cordelia sighed and slung the pack over her shoulder.
"Running away is not the answer, Dawn. You are way too smart to do something like that. So, I'm gonna hand this over to Angel to hold onto.. you know, to ensure you keep those wonderful smarts." When the teen made no response, she turned and prepared to exit in the same fashion as Wes. She was half out the door when the girl's broken, flat voice stopped her.
"There's.. a few things I want out of it first.." Cordelia quirked an inquisitive brow, but shrugged and handed it over. After rummaging for a few, Dawn began to remove items. First, a large, red velvet jewelry box that had a Japanese design... then a fancy sketch book with brand new pencils.. and a beautiful leather journal. It was the only one to have escaped the torching of the Dawnmeister Chronicles. The jewelry box had been a birthday present from Xander. It contained some jewelry of Buffy's and a few things that had been her Mum's. The sketch book and pencils had been a birthday present from Willow and Tara.
The beautiful, supple black leather journal with inlaid Celtic knot.. her most prized possession. It was a goodbye present given to her by Angel on the night of the Mayor's Ascension. Buffy had never known Angel went straight from the High School to Dawn's room. Needless to say, the teen had been surprised to find Angel standing inside her room, the parcel clutched awkwardly in his hands. Dawn knew many memories.. well, almost every one, were fake. It was a fake memory that brought the journal into her possession.
When Angel came back from Hell, Buffy spent all of her time taking care of him. Dawn had been forgotten. But, as usual, what Buffy didn't know, didn't get people hurt. And what Buffy didn't know was that Dawn followed her one night. She and Angel went from never interacting, to becoming an integral part of each other's lives. Dawn would sneak out to Angel's mansion when she knew Buffy had left to patrol for the night. She'd sit in a corner on the cold concrete floors, drawing Angel while he practiced his brooding Tai Chi. Or, she would write her newest entry in the Chronicles while he read some volume of poetry, or studied a tome on some ancient evil that might one day pose a threat to the world. Some nights, as rare as it was, they would sit in conversation, Angel listening with genuine interest to the happenings of her day. He would even, on these scarce occasions, tell her tidbits of his life as a mortal. And so it was she had come to trust Angel better than any of the Scoobies.
She placed her sketch book and pencils on the dresser next to the jewelry box. One hand lingered on the velvet for a moment before she picked up the journal and her ballpoint pen. She quickly scanned the room, having had no time to do so earlier due to her 'stunning' hysterics. She found a bare window seat that was long and wide enough she could comfortably lie there. So, she grabbed pillows and blankets and set herself up a posh little sleeping spot. She curled up on the seat, cracked open the blank journal, and prepared her first entry.
----------
"Rupert?" The slightly Irish tones quested from the other end of the line. Rupert Giles had been finishing the paperwork that would deed the Magic Box to his partner Anya. He had been surprised, to say the least, when he heard the voice.
"Angel?" The older gentleman managed to stammer forth, his mind already headed for mental breakdown with the impending doom the vampire's call must signal. "Bloody hell! What apocalypse is coming now?! Between Buffy and Dawn, we don't have the time or the resources!" At Giles sudden outburst and Ripperesque behavior, Tara, Willow, Xander, Anya, and Spike turned to face him. They had dug Buffy's grave three weeks ago.
"S-so.. so what I heard was true..? Buffy is dead.. I assume Glory is the cause?" Dawn's words echoed suddenly within his mind, and he found himself dreading what Giles' answer might be. Did they really blame Dawn.. hate her even? As he fought the horror of this thought, Angel paced the perimeter of his office.
"How.. how did you know!?" Giles panicked. No one could know that his daughter.. his Slayer was dead.
"How long has Dawn been missing?" Angel asked in a crisp tone. Angel almost prayed that Giles would launch into some desperate account of how they had searched high and low for the girl.. hoped Giles would alleviate some of the anger that was rapidly filling him.
"Hmm? Oh, well Spike insists she has been missing for two days now, but I am more than sure it has only been a few hours..." Giles spoke so nonchalantly about Dawn's absence that Angel was livid with fury. It took all of his self restraint to keep from breaking the cordless phone that rested so tight within his hand.. or, worse, putting a fist through his office wall.
"Put. Spike. On. Now!" he snarled the demand through gritted teeth. His anger was so vast, that he had slipped into his vampire visage without thinking. He managed to calm himself only after he distinctly heard the rustling of Spike's duster and the closing of a thick door.
"Alright, Peaches.. no little buggers to interrupt. How did you know Buffy was dead, and why are you asking after Dawn?!" Spike's normal guttersnipe drawl had been dropped for Queen's Proper in his state of worry.
"So, the Scoobies refuse to believe Dawn has been gone for a few days? Have they even bothered to look for her!?!" Angel was now growling.. snarling as his anger continued to swell. Cordy and Wes both stepped a dozen paces back from the door they had been eavesdropping through. Without actually speaking, they had reached a mutual agreement that this was a conversation they should skip. So, Cordy went to her desk, and Wes went to the kitchen to warm up his soup.
"Calm down, Angel. I've not heard you this angry in decades! But I'd like you to stop dodgin' the bleedin' questions!" His words had once again fallen into his slang speech. "And I'll 'ave you know, I've been out searchin' every hour I could since she scarpered! As for the White hats.. well, The Whelp and Witches took one drive, then gave up. Rupes is convinced she just crashed at a friend's.. but that's a load of rot. 's the first two nights she's not been by the crypt.. crying or wanting to talk. Something' not right.." Angel was surprised to hear the amount of emotion that trembled in his child's normally collected voice.
"William, calm down. Dawn is safe, I assure you. She's upstairs resting right now - "
" - you mean she's in L.A.!?!"
"- We saved her from a gang of vampires. She must've come here on a bus, but I've no idea what she's doing here. Cordelia was sent a vision, and we saved her. She was pretty shook up.. rambling on about how the Scoobies hated her.. thought Buffy's death was her fault.." His anger had drained away at this point, leaving him hollow and tired. He sank into his chair, feeling weaker than any vampire should. "...and she kept telling me I should hate her.. should blame her. She.. she.."
"She's broken, mate. A shell of what we remember. Poor Bit's been through hell, Angel. Found out she was the Key, lost her mum, got sliced to bits by one of Glory's followers. To top it all off, big sis kills herself to save her. Then, Nibblet had to watch as the only family she had left was buried out in the middle of the damn woods so no one would know she's dead!"
"What happened to my soup!?" Wes' voice was high and whiny. Angel could not fight the small, though sad smile that appeared...
Author's Note: Ok, if you review this, I wish for you to keep one thing in mind: This is the very first fanfic I ever wrote. It is over two years old, and I am simply typing the chapters up from my notebook, and posting them here. I hope everyone likes it!