Note- In the same storyline as "Life- An Experiment". I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own. Characters belong to Joss :) Any and all feedback would be appreciated - I've never written any form of fiction before, but Dawn is a character that I felt needed more time and what needs to happen I can't do in an essay - so here it is.

Okay so the first part (that's in script-form) is a LITERAL scene from a Season 7 episode word-for-word. I hate this scene and was going to just have Faith or Spike give Dawn the same speech and call it a day, and then realized that I hate everything about this scene and needed to do it all over.

XANDER: Aw, I'm just thinking about the girls. It's a harsh gig, being a potential. Just being picked out of a crowd, danger, destiny, (grins) plus if you act now, death.
DAWN: They can handle it.
XANDER: Yeah. They're special, no doubt. The amazing thing is, not one of them will ever know, not even Buffy.
DAWN: Know what?
XANDER: How much harder it is for the rest of us.
DAWN: No way. They've got...?
XANDER: Seven years, Dawn. Working with the slayer. Seeing my friends get more and more powerful. A witch. A demon. Hell, I could fit Oz in my shaving kit, but come a full moon, he had a wolfy mojo not to be messed with. Powerful. All of them. And I'm the guy who fixes the windows.
DAWN: Well, you had that sexy army training for a while, and?and the windows really did need fixing.
XANDER: I saw what you did last night.
DAWN: Yeah, I? (embarrassed) I guess I kinda lost my head when I thought I was the slayer.
XANDER: You thought you were all special. Miss Sunnydale 2003. And the minute you found out you weren't, you handed the crown to Amanda without a moment's pause. You gave her your power.
DAWN: (shrugs) The power wasn't mine.
XANDER: They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't chosen. To live so near to the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes because nobody's watching me. I saw you last night. I see you working here today. You're not special. You're extraordinary. (stands, kisses her forehead, starts to walk out of the room)
DAWN: (tears welling in her eyes, calls after him) Maybe that's your power.
XANDER: What?
DAWN: Seeing. Knowing.
XANDER: Maybe it is. Maybe I should get a cape.
DAWN: Cape is good.
XANDER: Yeah.

Xander's image blurred as he walked away from Dawn, shimmering into nothingness when it came into contact with Spike's approaching form. Dawn looked up with surprise at the vampire, whom had never interrupted one of her meditations before and shook her head. She knew he watched, sometimes through the memories she could smell him, sense him sitting in the room watching over her. His presence allowed her to delve deep into the memories, pulling them apart with reckless abandon, knowing that he was there... in case she got stuck in them. It was a fear that only Giles and Spike seemed to share with her, that Dawn's meditation would cause her to be trapped in her own mind forever. Willow kept saying Dawn would soon be addicted to the power in the meditation process. Cordy worried that Dawn's meditations were keeping her from adjusting to LA and campus-life. Buffy worried that Dawn would accidentally forget their mother and Tara. But Spike's fears were silent and steady, so his presence was a comfort most days.

It was rare for a memory to come to her so clearly, shimmering around her in a fog, tempting her with it's closeness, as this one had. She had been looking actively for something else, an older memory from elementary school that involved a cupcake. It wasn't a bad memory, but it reeked of the monks and she was eager to rid herself of it... of them all and just be what she chose to be. Willow and Cordy had warned her repeatedly not to go too fast, to slow down, to stop pushing herself so hard. But the need to drive out the fiction of herself was growing stronger each day. The past month or so this memory kept coming back, the memory of this day - of her desire to be a Potential. It wasn't a fond memory for her, or a bad... she had previously tried not to think to hard or too long on that day once it passed. There was so much in that day that she hadn't come to terms with. But lately the conversation with Xander kept popping up, blocking her from accessing any other memories.

She shook her head and started to rise, but Spike pushed her down and sat cross-legged in front of her. He was wearing black sweats, a white tee, and long white socks. His hair, though bleached as blond as ever, was a bit longer than usual and curled over his forehead. She couldn't have imagined it before, in Sunnydale, to see Spike in something other than black jeans. But nights at her apartment with Dennis he had started to drop the act a little. The swagger was still there, he was still Spike, but he had also began to relax more so than Dawn imaged he had done since he was human. She cocked her head at him and thought again - no, William wouldn't be caught dead in sweats and socks.

He reached out his arms and held her hands in his so that they were laying right where there knees touched and looked at her pensively for a moment. Dawn stayed still and silent, waiting for him to speak his mind. Along with his new relaxed look, at least while they were alone, the vampire had also become rather silent and withdrawn of late. She could hear Angel and Illyria picking at him sometimes, trying to ruffle his feathers, but he rarely bantered back anymore. There was an aura about him lately, one of bemused superiority that drove Angel to distraction. The fight wasn't out of him, he still got rough and tumbly with Angel and the rest of the gang when there was a new menace, but he was quiet now. Dawn could sense that something had happened between him and Buffy before she left that had eased his nervous energy. But there was more to it, she tried desperately to stay out of his aura when he was near (just as she blocked off everyone), some had seeped through, though, despite her efforts and she sensed that his soul - William - was gaining more control over the demon inside. He fought to be near Dawn more than ever, as she lost her childhood and the fantasy of her life, he seemed to lose his anger. She had puzzled over this connection for a while and had decided not to push it. If Spike was calming, he wasn't losing his edge or his power... just calming down. Dawn often explained his new behavior to Connor as if Spike was an ADD kid who recently discovered Ridilin.

"Why do you keep going there, to that memory?" he asked softly, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up into his face once again and saw the same calm, impenetrable expression she had grown so accustomed to. She was slightly confused and frowned a little, unable to explain to herself how he knew what memory she had been bombarded with the past couple of weeks. He sighed, "I can hear you. Usually it's not... you've been living this one over and over. I can hear you talking to him. Why...?" He trailed off and stared deeply at her.

Dawn almost pulled away in frustration. "I didn't chose this one. It keeps coming up, it's blocking me and I don't know why." She sensed a tremor of energy and anger flow through him, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing and then releasing. Spike abruptly stood up and began pacing the floor. Dawn watched him, wondering still in the change in him. There he was, pacing back and forth, but though there was extreme energy and power in the body, it was a silent, restrained energy. Gone was the erratic and angry Spike from Sunnydale.

"I don't understand..." Dawn started slowly. "I know you and Xander don't exactly get along, but how could you even know who I was talking to-"

"Rotten bugger! I could kill him," Spike suddenly spat out, interrupting Dawn. She physically recoiled from the burst of anger that the vampire had let loose without warning. He turned towards her, "If you only knew, if you only understood..." he trailed off and continued pacing.

She could only catch snatches of what the vampire was muttering to himself. The words flooded her mind, disconnected, scattered thoughts that seeped across the room: "Hyenas... blasted soul... "I can't remember" ... rotten bugger... and Giles! ... as if I... rape... memory... Buffy... blasted... selfish prat... witches... hyenas... bitch..."

A light of understanding flooded Dawn's mind. Of course, when Xander had been possessed by the essence of the hyena, he had tried to assault Buffy. Dawn and the others had presumed that Xander couldn't remember what he had done and said. There had always been something fishy about that. But... he did remember. And he had had his soul when he did all of those things... said those things to Buffy and Willow. And they had forgiven him. They all had. Dawn guessed most of them had probably forgotten the event. She thought suddenly of how she... they... had all treated Spike when he had come back from his soul-quest and she suddenly felt sick. Why had a soulless lover, accustomed to violence, been treated so harshly when a human, with a soul, had been forgiven so easily? Xander had never had to atone for that, had to apologize or even acknowledge what he had done. But Spike... She got to her feet, tears in her eyes.

There was no excuse. She knew that. There was never an excuse. There should never be an excuse. And Dawn could never fully forgive him for his actions, though she had learned to trust him again. But excuses: Never. For anyone. He knew that. He had known so deeply he had decided to atone for everything that he had ever done without a soul. One event, one moment of confusion and pain had prompted a vampire to seek out a soul. To seek out eternal pain and doubt. While a similar moment in the life of an ensouled human had been passed over, forgotten, ignored. No apology had even been necessary. It had been the cause of so many jokes in the Scoobie's downtime. And suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. There was a problem here, a problem so deep it wasn't just about the Scoobies, or even about Xander. She wondered how many groups of young boys just in LA were joking, laughing about similar circumstances. How many girls were crying or afraid. She began to shake with rage, not at Xander or at Spike - but with the overwhelming sense that knowing of two instances like this in her sister's life was not rare. It tied Buffy to humanity in a way that made Dawn sick to her stomach.

Dawn realized that this was not the only thing that kept Spike and Xander from seeing eye to eye, but she realized now that there was more to Spike's hatred than anyone could have guessed. She wondered briefly how many of Xander's actions were as heartbreaking for Spike to see and shuddered.

It was a perspective she had never wanted... but then, it was the monks that had created her un-yielding trust in him. Even in that first year of her life, when her crush on Xander dissipated, she still put utter faith and trust in him completely. She shuddered at the thought. Buffy and Willow - they chose to trust him after all he had done. Anya had chosen to keep loving him, even after he had betrayed her so deeply. But there had been no reason for Dawn to put her life and soul in his hands the way that she had.

Tears were streaming down her face with reckless abandon. Spike was suddenly there, his hands on her shoulders, "I shouldn't have said those things. You should never stop loving him. You should never stop loving any of them. The witch almost killed you, and you still love her, yeah?"

Dawn nodded and shrugged. The tears she had weren't for Xander - they were for herself. For not having a choice in the first 14 years of her life, for having to re-learn her whole existence. Sometimes, like today, it smacked her right in the face. She bowed her head and allowed the tears to keep flowing. It was relaxing to just release the tension. She had kept it together for the most part since coming to LA. Everything was so hectic, first the big battle against the armies of Wolf, Ram & Hart, then settling all the Slayerettes into the Hyperion, dealing with Buffy leaving and the start of Fall classes at UCLA. There had been no time to feel the pain of what she was doing and why. Cordy had kept her social planner full, and the Slayerettes always wanted to play in the city after a days of training and nights of fighting. And so she cried. Silent, but releasing tears.

Spike held her, picking her up and carrying her to the couch, where he settled her in his lap and stroked her hair while she cried. Through her tears she saw a handkerchief float through the air towards her and she took it with trembling fingers, silently thanking Dennis... and the PTB for giving her these two dead companions to help her through this moment of her life.

After a few minutes, Dawn started to feel as if she hoped she'd never cry again. She slipped off Spike's lap onto the couch beside him, her legs still draped casually over his. "There's something I don't get," she said finally. He raised his eyebrows at her. "You weren't there... that memory keeps coming back, blocking me from everything else, but how do you know about it?"

Spike stared pensively down at his hands, chipping away at the black fingernail paint on his nails as he thought. "Faith and I... we were on the back porch..." He looked up at her, "Super-hearing and all that. We heard everything."

Dawn thought back to the last few months in Sunnydale. Other than Faith's forays into Wood's bed, she had been pretty solitary. Or so Dawn had thought. It made sense, somehow, that Faith and Spike would cling to each other, regardless (or more likely- because of) Buffy's fierce possessive behavior towards Spike in those last months.

Dawn wished suddenly that Faith had come to LA instead of going with Giles to the mid-west region. Yes, Cordy would have flipped, so it was probably for the best. But in recovering and analyzing her early memories, Dawn was beginning to think more fondly on Faith.

"I miss her," Dawn whispered.

"Buffy?"

"No... Faith."

"That's new."

"Yeah..." she smiled. "I think that's okay, though."

He smiled and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger absent-mindedly. "Part of the new-you?"

"No." Dawn paused, considering. "Going back and seeing her as she was... she was so sad. She still is, isn't she?" Spike nodded slowly. Dawn sighed, "I know that only Angel really knows, how bad it was I mean. I wish Buffy knew what it was like..." Dawn broke off, embarrassed.

"What's that, love?"

"What it's like... to not be loved."

"She's too full of love to be able to comprehend an existence like that. It's not... not in her reality," Spike said.

Dawn hesitated before responding. It was nice, most of the time, to talk things over with Spike. Especially when she needed to talk things out about Buffy. She thought back to her last conversation with Angel – she didn't know how to explain herself well to him. She was becoming accustomed to Spike filling in the blanks, understanding her point before things got too complicated to untangle.

"That's what the First Slayer told her... but I wonder if that makes her harder. ... Not harder but, inflexible in some way." She sat for a moment before continuing, "I can't understand that kind of pain. All I know is love. And there's no way to sort out the love the monks created and the love that Buffy and mom just have for me. And I won't erase my love for them. But I can empathize. I know that it's possible to not have love, to not know love even for yourself... but Buffy... She seems to not even acknowledge that it's possible to be in that position."

"If she did - what would she be fighting for?"

"So then, what does Faith fight for? I mean, now… that she's not all evil and stuff? She'll never be a Scooby, not really…" When he didn't respond, Dawn reached out and nudged Spike. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He smiled wryly. "I've got something better. Come here." He got up and walked over to the Tibetan prayer rug Oz had sent her to help with the meditations last month, settling in cross-legged where he had been just moments before. Dawn followed him and sat facing him, her knees touching his, her hands lying palm up where their knees met. Spike pulled two gold rings out of his pocket and held them up for her to see and then laid one on each of her palms and then laid his own hands over hers, so that they were both in contact with each other, and with the gold rings. "Let me show you something."

Dawn began to feel the pull of a memory and knew automatically that it wasn't hers. As the room around her disappeared, she suddenly realized why Spike had switched to an all-cotton wardrobe while in her apartment. She had noticed lately that her powers… whatever they were… were heightened by certain materials. Living materials, she thought. Hard metals, stones, leather and the like, I guess. And then the thought was gone and she was on the back porch in Sunnydale.

Even though she was accustomed to seeing Sunnydale, it was always her own memories that brought her there. Somehow, seeing her home from Spike's perspective made her sickly homesick for a moment. She walked closer to the house, glorying in the freedom of this experience. This wasn't her memory and she could move more freely around within the space. She saw Faith leaning up against the side of the house, smoking, and Spike was sitting on the steps below her. Through the open kitchen door Dawn could hear herself. Super-hearing and all that, she thought. And then suddenly Xander was standing in the doorway.

"Hey guys. You're all smoky and gloomy out here. No little monsters in need of a good killing?" Xander said awkwardly.

Spike stood up suddenly and made a move to push Xander, but Faith pushed him back. "Hey blondie, back off for now, alright? We can't afford another speech by General Buffy about playing nice." Spike raised his hands in deference to the Slayer and backed away.

"Do I offend?" Xander joked.

"Don't push it, Xand," Faith snapped. "The whole self-deprecating role is probably really charming on the little girls and makes you feel like a big-man around the house, but don't bring it out here. No one here feels sorry for you." She laughed and leaned over him, pushing him against the doorway as she put out her cigarette on the outer wall of the house, before smooshing his lips with her hand and giving him a big smack on the mouth. "I missed you big-man—"

Spike pulled Faith of Xander and pushed him gently inside. "Don't tease the twat, we don't need him getting any more hot and bothered with all those giggling girls in his apartment." Faith giggled and Xander started to protest. "And you!" Dawn could see that the grip Spike had on Xander's arm was softer than he'd like, but was still freaking Xander out a little. "The whole woe-is-me routine has gone a little stale, hasn't it? After leaving your little bird at the alter you really think mini-Buffy is going to pity you?" Spike pushed him into the house. "Only they all do, don't they? No matter what, you're part of the home team. You're the heart of the family. Stop taking it for bloody granted." Spike stormed off into the darkness.

Xander stood flummoxed in the kitchen. Faith watched him curiously. "I never… I don't—" he started to sputter, but she cut him off.

"Cut the act, fly-boy. You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"That you are in the limelight. You do have power. You're part of them whether you want to deal or not. Power isn't just about who kicks the hardest."

"You learn all that in the big house?"

"Something like that. Look, stay out of blondie-boy's way for a while. You can't know what atonement is like."

"Atonement, yeah right. You really buy that whole Spike-is-different-now thing?"

"I do. You bought it when Angel came back with a soul."

"Not willingly."

"And you were wrong. You're still wrong. So back off."

"You seem like you've got a hard-on for the big bad again, Faithy."

Faith looked at him and sighed. "God Harris. Take a chill pill. You're not the one stuck out on the porch all night. Go inside. Make with the big group hang. Forget it."

"Forget what?"

"Whatever it is that has made you so pissed off. I would've thought that you'd've gotten over your baby Buffy-lust by now. Get a clue: you are the man of the house. You are part of the team. Some of us aren't so lucky." She jumped off the porch and Dawn wiped tears off her cheek before running to catch up.

Spike was waiting in the tree line for Faith, falling in-step with her as she walked past. "Wanna beat on things?" she asked.

"I know a place," he said with a nod. Dawn realized that they were headed to the nearest cemetery. She thought it was over and started wondering why Spike was staying in the memory still. And then he started talking.

"He's the bloody heart!" he snapped. Faith stayed quiet. "He has no right to make Dawn feel sorry for him, to bring the little bit down to his level that way."

"No. He shouldn't. It's all about making himself feel big by creating a bond with someone who is stronger than him, but based on his weaknesses."

"Book-learnin' at that prison of yours?"

"A shrink," Faith giggled. "I'm not even sure what half of it means. But I get where Xander's coming from. He knows he doesn't deserve it; their trust, their faith in him."

"He deserves it." Faith stopped and looked at him in surprise. "He keeps them grounded. All that power, the witch got lost in it last year. He reminds them what they're fighting for. He's more important than he'll ever know."

"Maybe. But no one knows how important Dawn is going to be. If you ask me, her power is going to blow them all away. I can feel it when she walks by sometimes, like someday..."

"It's hard to see the little niblet with big sis walkin' around all shiny and full of light..."

"General Buffy has a way of commanding attention. But I've seen the way you look at Dawn- when you think no one else notices. Like if you aren't watching -WHAM- she'll be gone in an instant. And that's not all about the big tower and the showdown with Miss-Hell-God. That's epic, but it's not why you look after her."

The two dark heroes were silent for a moment, staring up at the stars. Spike shifted and pulled out a smoke and lighting it deftly. As he exhaled he said, "Harris won't be there forever. After this.." He waved his hands at the air restlessly, "He won't be there."

Faith said softly, "Someone should be." And then she laughed, "God that kid's gonna be a blast on the college scene. The monks sure made her body right."

Spike started to retort but his voice started to fade and the images in front of Dawn became two dimensional and then started to fade.

Dawn felt Spike's hands leave hers in the room back in LA. She fought to stay in the memory that wasn't hers, to run to Faith and hug her. They were all sisters, of a sort, Buffy, Faith, and Dawn. And she had been forgotten along the way. And then Dawn was back in LA.

Dawn looked at Spike and said softly, "Remember how I said I miss Faith?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, just want to clarify - I miss Faith."

"I know, little bit."

"So we're thinking..."

"That the Powers will let you get back to business?" The vampire shrugged, "All I'm betting is that an all-cotton wardrobe is going to be a regular thing with me. And that I already have the perfect Christmas present for you."

Dawn shook her head. "I'm still not sure -"

"I know... but I wanted to-"

"Make sure that I'm not bombarded."

"That you can relax." He cocked his head and listened for a moment.

"Connor's here," she breathed, standing up and stretching her back. "He's going to ask me to go with him for Thanksgiving..."

"Go." The vampire looked up at her, his blue eyes shining. "Go and have a merry ol' time. Forget for a few days that you're the key to reality and the Slayer's little sis and just be..."

"A normal college-student."

"A girl. Having Thanksgiving. With a family."