To Becks Rylynn: To answer your questions, 1) I haven't revealed his name yet. It's a secret that – along with his backstory – will come in due time. 2) I haven't really thought of an actor to play him, although I modeled some of his cold, withdrawn attitude off of the character of Rorschach from Watchmen.
Chapter VII
"Home…?"
It hadn't changed. The clothes on the floor, the makeup kit spilled out on the dresser, the rumpled covers, even the knife was still in the corner she'd thrown it. Her room was a memory frozen in time for her. One thing had changed though: when she left, this place was oppressive, filled with unbearable pain. Now, as she stood in the midst of so much familiarity, Dawn found herself feeling more at peace than she'd felt in a long time. And after today, she needed a little bit of that.
They'd taken the bus back from Salt Lake City early this morning. Her, Giles, and him. Xander met them at the station, wrapping her up in a big bear hug the first chance he got. It was warm and it was real, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a few moments to retain her composure. They got their stuff into his car – Giles' suitcase and that man's duffle – and a few minutes later they were at 1630 Revello Drive. They were home.
The swarm began before they even got out of the car. Willow led the charge, running out of the house and embracing Dawn with even more vigor than Xander had. Tara and Anya were right behind her, both women giving her a tear-filled greeting. The storm within her got stronger by the minute, her hands beginning to tremble as it threatened to overwhelm her. Then Buffy stepped out. She was there, and within a moment they were embracing.
Dawn had gotten away not long after that. She'd gone up and taken a shower, completely cleaning her body for the first time in so long. Now she was in here, her room, her sanctuary, a place where she could be away from everyone. Where she could be away from her sister.
"Dawn," she had said out there after they broke apart. "I-I'm just so glad you're back. I couldn't stand the thought of you out there on your own." Dawn just nodded and gave a halfhearted response. Her trembling had stopped. The storm had abated. The hard truth was staring her in the face, and she couldn't bear to look at it any longer.
A long-awaited noise from the hall brought her running out of her sanctuary just in time to catch him stepping out of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist as water dripped off of his chiseled physique. He'd healed remarkably during their daylong trip; the only mark on his skin now was that cross tattooed on his chest. Looking at his head, she noticed that he'd shaved off the last vestiges of his hair, the patches on his head and face that hadn't burned off in the explosion.
"How is she?" Her demand was issued immediately as she positioned herself in his path. He was going to answer this one. "You saw something in her. What was it?" When Dawn had pulled away from Buffy, he had stepped in. She turned to him and began to introduce herself, but then she suddenly trailed off. He was looking deep into her eyes, and she just stood there for a few moments, zombie-like, as he studied her. "Please," she pleaded. "I have to know."
"The dead aren't meant to be brought back," he responded after a few moments of silence. "She is your sister. She's also a Slayer." Did I tell him that? Dawn wondered. "She'll recover. Probably." He pushed past her now, and she didn't try to stop him.
"Damn, Dawnie." It was her, standing at the base of the stairs. Dawn didn't know how long she'd been there for. "You do know how to pick them," Buffy continued, a wry grin on her face. "I mean, you're gone for two months and you come back with a hottie in tow." Dawn didn't even blush. There wasn't enough feeling in the teasing to get to her.
"It's not like that," she responded. "He saved my life." After almost destroying it. "And he said that something was coming." Buffy nodded.
"Yeah, Giles told me about Armageddon. I guess it wouldn't be a Hellmouth if somebody wasn't here trying to end the world." Even her punch lines just felt flat. "Did he tell you anything more specific?" Dawn shook her head.
"Just that he needed to come back here. That whatever it was, it was going down here." Giles had pressed him repeatedly on the trip back to reveal more, but he hadn't spoken a word the whole time.
"Well I hope he knows more than that. I can't stop it if I don't know what it is."
"Buffy!" Willow called from downstairs. "Giles found something!" Puzzled, Dawn followed her sister downstairs into the living room, where Giles was sitting on the couch rifling through a large book – a pose that she found oddly comforting in its familiarity.
"What is it?" Buffy inquired.
"I called the Council a few minutes ago," Giles explained, never taking his eyes off of the book. "They'd said something the last time we'd spoken, about a new threat, about the world being out of balance. I didn't care much for the details then, I didn't think I needed them because you were… Anyway, I just followed up on it, and – aha!" He held up the book for everyone to see what he had found. It was an illustration, a depiction of a shadowy figure, vague in its lack of features yet menacing nonetheless. "The Amar'hol. It's one of the only words that has survived from an obscure dialect used by Egyptian high priests. Literally translated, it means 'the beginning of the end.' Now, there isn't much written about what that means," he set the book back down, "but it does say that the Amar'hol will be preceded by a complete disruption in the world's magicks. Its natural forces will be thrown completely out of whack by some terrible event, and this will provide an opportunity for someone – or something – to bring about 'the era of darkness.'"
"'Era of darkness?'" Xander commented. "Couldn't they have come up with something better to call the end of the world?"
"What kind of terrible event are we talking about?" Buffy asked.
"Well, um," Giles became flustered. "I-I'm not entirely…"
"You're alive." Every turned around, and there he was. Dressed in an old, worn out leather tunic and chaps, he walked over and picked up the book. "The dead shouldn't be walking," he continued as he studied the pages. "After that dimensional disruption two months ago, the world couldn't handle any more powerful magicks that tore into its natural laws."
"Wait, dimensional… you're talking about Glory?" He turned to look at Willow.
"You knew, and you still did it?" His jaw twitched. "By bringing her back you turned a small problem into a total catastrophe." He started walking towards her. "You messed with forces way over your head, little girl," he growled, "and you may have just killed us all." Tara crossed the room fast, stepping between him and Willow as the whole room became very tense.
"She screwed up," Dawn declared. She looked over at Buffy, who was just standing there. It made her so sick she had to look away. "Now what do we do to fix it?" He turned towards her, and the fire in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then his expression returned to its usual blankness.
"Four days," he said. "That's how long it'll be before the world is able to fix itself. That's how long their window is. All that needs to be done is to stall them, delay what they're doing until it's too late."
"Sounds easy," Buffy commented.
"No. It won't be."
End of Chapter VII
A/N: For those of you who haven't picked up on it yet, I'm obviously making Buffy a lot weaker after being resurrected than she was on the show. Now, I have good reason for doing this. After all, this story is about Dawn. So don't bite my head off for this.
I like the feedback I'm getting so far, but I know there are more people out there who are reading this story, so keep on reviewing and I'll keep on writing. Nothing motivates me more to get another chapter out than reading your reviews, so keep them coming.
