Title: Promised
Author: KurtCouper
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Spike/Dawn Friendship, maybe more
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: Spike promised two years ago that it was her and him until the end of the world. But Spike lied and Dawn can't seem to forget that.

-----

Chapter 3

Yeah, I used to be a devil but they never seemed to give a damn.

Her Brand New Skin-Everclear

Sometime during the middle of the night, Dawn must have finally unlocked the door and tumbled into her room where she passed out for 12 and a half hours. Must have, because there she is, devoured into her bed, her head too heavy to even roll over. Her mouth taste like cigarettes and beer, and it's dry. It's so dry that she'd kill a man for a gallon of water, but as she finds an old bottle of water under her bed, she knows she has to sip it slowly. Either way, the water hits her stomach hard and she rolls back in her bed to snuggle into her comforter.

The security it gives her only works for so long. The raging headache penetrates her sleepy mind and the stomach ache returns. She can't remember how she got here, in her bed. But she has a big t-shirt on, yet she was still in her bra. Her hands slowly shake and she it's not from the temperature. Needing a nicotine fix, Dawn mustered up the energy to overcome her sickness. She was sure a cigarette could cure all anyway. Slowly walking toward her window, Dawn crawled against the sill and pulled out a cigarette pack from under a nearby pillow.

Her body dangled from the open window calmly as she rested on the window casing. The menthol tasted smooth in the back of her throat as she inhaled. It seemed to be the only thing in her body that didn't hurt. Her palms were caked with bits of blood from scraped skin. Muscles ached in her stomach from straining while vomiting. Looking down her thin, long legs, all Dawn could see was yellowed and purpled skin-bruises from where she crawled and fell. But even so, that drag of the cigarette seemed to make it all feel better.

She didn't remember much, which seemed to be happening lately. It's not as if she'd get too trashed and blacked out. Instead, it seems as if her brain might be rotten through by her recreational drug use, paired with a prescription pills and alcohol duo. The brunette remembered going to the bar where men kept sending over beers. One guy, if she recollected correctly, even had the guts to strike up a conversation and ask for her number; she quickly shot him a look that sent him running. The next thing she remembers is crawling onto her neighbor's porch and then barely making it onto her own.

The sun was close to setting. The sky was a blood orange, clashing against the paleness of her skin. For two days, she had admired the sunset which was more than she had done in two months. It made for peaceful scenery to smoke her pains away.

Dawn heard the front door slam rather quickly; the sound seeming to make all the walls rattle. She wasn't quite sure who it was, so she flicked the rest of her cigarette out of her window, and decided to find out.

"Hello?" she called into the hallway from behind her cracked door. The brunette didn't like the sound of her voice. It sounded to weak and detached as it echoed against the walls.

No one answered.

The silence seemed to ease the Ex-Key, so she decided on a shower. It was the one thing she truly wanted last night, but passed out before she could achieve it. Her body stilled reeked of cigarettes and beer and the grime seemed so thick that only a good exfoliation could make her clean. And she thanked whatever gods that were above that the house was empty as well as the shower. With all of the SITs constantly just around it was hardly never when there was a silent echo. She didn't even care why the house was empty. And the hot water felt so good against her sore muscles.

She moaned when she put shampoo in her hair, the liquid burning the scrapes on her palm. But the pain made her remember how much of a screw up she was. How normal teenage girls didn't spend their time in bars, making friends with the bartender to squeeze beers out of him. It wasn't natural to know how to swing your hips just the right way to get that man in the corner to buy her a drink. But she seemed to strive on that, that sharp pain of her mistakes, of being dirty.
While rinsing out her hair, her stomach flipped again. It made her skin turn cold and she knew she would have to empty her stomach of the beer soon. And it would probably be good. Maybe this alcohol, even if it was only in her stomach, was depressing her senses. It was a depressant after all and she couldn't seem to control the way her eyes teared up. This sadness was so strong, drowning her like the water that was cascading down on her.

"I'm so tired of this sadness," she whispered to herself.

Her head rushed with a dizziness that she didn't know her mind held. Dawn couldn't tell if it was the stomach ache, but she suddenly felt as if the world had split into two. Breathing in slowly, Dawn steadied herself as best as she could while soaping up her body. It was getting rid of the dirt and grime and it felt just so good.

"Fuck," she cried exasperated as the bar of soap slipped out of her wet hands. It swirled to the drain.

As she leaned forward to grab the soap, she felt her head swim again. But as soon as she grabbed a hold of it, the brunette became top heavy and lost her footing. Dawn couldn't even catch herself on the slippery shower wall. Her head sickly collided with the faucet, knocking a large gash into her forehead. It wasn't long before she found herself face down against the tub.

Before her eyes fluttered shut, all she saw was a swirl of red going down into the drain.

---------------
Only two more chapters left!! I know you're excited!!
-KC