Mornings Smile – L

'A beautiful sunset that was mistaken for a dawn'

Claude Debussy

They had spoken en-masse, over a hundred voices raised in unison, somehow sounding as just one. Buffy had been forced to grit her teeth as the answers to questions she had not asked had spilled from their lips, as though the crowd were indeed contributing to some unknown conversation. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears became almost deafening as the terrible voice began to exert its toll on her eardrums, and yet Buffy hovered at the doorway, determined to gain some ground in this bizarre stand-off that had gone on too long.

As the clamour died down and the crowd became still once again, Buffy hazarded a step across the threshold, her muscles tensing as her body braced itself for imminent contact. When the nearest of the bodies failed to so much as twitch in response to her proximity, Buffy ventured further into the courtyard. She peered from face to face, spotting some familiar, others not, yet all perfectly stoic in their expressions. As she moved through the throng of bodies, her hand ghosting over shoulders and passing through the air in front of unblinking eyes, Buffy could almost feel the raw power crackling in the air above them. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood erect and a knot of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach like a stone that had sunk to the bottom of the riverbed, and still not a single individual made a move towards the Slayer, or indeed the doorway she had left unprotected.

From inside Giles' apartment, the faint sound of Dawn's cries carried on the early morning air, causing none but Buffy to flinch. Pushing her sister's plight to the back of her mind, Buffy continued to weave through the mass of bodies, struggling to glean some degree of insight into what afflicted them. When a complete lap of the courtyard was complete, Buffy returned to the doorstep and crossed both arms in front of her chest.

"You won't let us leave."

When Buffy finally spoke, her tone was surprisingly authoritative, bearing not even a trace of the fear that owned her. She had posed her words as a statement rather than a question, preferring the illusion of power that such a decision provided. She was unsurprised when, after a pause, the head of every man, woman and child began to move slowly from side to side. The Slayer cocked her head, searching for any difference no matter how slight between the townsfolk, and finding none. At the exact same moment, they stilled, waiting patiently as they had done for hours.

"I won't let you hurt them," Buffy continued, venom injected into her promise, affording it added weight. "I swear... if you try to lay so much as a finger on them... I will end you."

Seconds of unnerving silence ticked by before the lips of every upturned face began to twitch into a uniform smile that almost made Buffy's blood run cold. She shuddered as the breeze ensconced her and, with a final defiant glance flung at their captors, Buffy slammed the front door shut and set about replacing the locks with haste. She found her fingers fumbling over the metal, struggling to find purchase on each bolt and chain, which only added to her overall sense of desperation. When she was finally done and satisfied that the only point of entry was once again secure, Buffy stepped back from the door.

The sound of her own name drew her further into the apartment and, within a second, Buffy was thundering down the corridor towards Giles' bedroom. Spike stood at the side of Dawn's bed, his hands hooked under her armpits as he attempted unsuccessfully to haul her into a sitting position. Dawn was breathing heavily, her nostrils flaring with the effort of expelling breath, and her teeth were clamped together so tightly that the action had brought creases to her brow.

"What is it? What's going on?" Buffy demanded, her words tumbling out in a rush that sounded almost unrecognisable. Spike shot the Slayer a look of such unadulterated desperation that Buffy stopped short, poised mid-stride in the steps that would have brought her to Dawn's bedside.

"I... need... to... p-push..." Dawn choked out, her voice raw and her eyes wide as she affixed them upon her sister.

"I thought you said we had hours?" Spike growled, his desperation turning to anger as he rounded on Buffy, who stood her ground with hands on hips.

"Do I look like 'Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman'?" she hissed back, beginning to peel the covers away from Dawn's legs as she realised the inevitable was finally at hand. Her sister whimpered, cheeks flushed beet red as even despite her pain, embarrassment began to prickle at her. Buffy forced a reassuring smile as she began to work the tracksuit bottoms free from Dawn's leg and discarded them on a nearby chair.

"What the hell have you been doing, anyway?" demanded Spike, his grip tightening on Dawn's shoulders as her body rose from the mattress with the force of another contraction.

"Trying to find us a way out," Buffy retorted, struggling to maintain an even tone as she kept her eyes trained upon Dawn's face. Her lips were twisted into a frown and her brow furrowed, almost as though she were working on a particularly troubling Math problem, as opposed to trying her hardest to ignore the urges her body insisted were undeniable.

"How did that work out for you?" Spike inquired sourly, ignoring the pointed glare that Buffy shot in his direction. He eased Dawn back against the pillows before perching at her side on the edge of the mattress. Carefully, he worked her body back against his own so that the curve of her back rested against his abdomen, and both of his arms encircled her.

"I got you, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, "I got you."

"Don't leave," Dawn begged, her eyes alight with desperation and despair as she glanced back over her shoulder at the man who seemed to be the only thing anchoring her to sanity.

"Never."

For just a second, their eyes locked, and a sense of serenity that was wholly unexpected descended upon the occupants of the bedroom. There was peace in the moment and, as Buffy looked upon her sister, a kind of light appeared to radiate from her with such intensity that she was dumbfounded as to how she could possibly have overlooked it all these months. Despite the clumps of hair matted to Dawn's face, the rivulets of sweat glistening upon her cheeks, and the dark circles of exhaustion that coloured the skin beneath her eyes, Dawn had never looked as beautiful as in that moment, when the pain was finally eclipsed by the promise of something worthwhile.

"Don't be scared, Dawnie," Buffy soothed softly, grasping Dawn's bare ankle and offering her sister a smile, which Dawn struggled to return. "Everything's gonna be fine. I promise."

Dawn opened her mouth, the determination to offer a response alight upon her face, when from the lounge, the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground drew Buffy's attention. Shooting a warning glance at Spike, Buffy ducked out of the bedroom, each footfall more determined than the last as she made her way towards the source of the raucous. Stealing herself against the sight of the front door hanging from its hinges, Buffy rounded the corner with both fists raised in preparation, and barrelled straight into the tiny figure of Dr. Kalkirasch.

"Slayer!" the man cooed in a pleasant tone as he righted his crooked glasses on the bridge of his nose, and then brandished the black medical bag clutched in one hand.

"How did..." Buffy began, taking a hurried step backwards as her body was propelled by her mounting suspicions. However, the doctor merely beamed, almost bouncing in delight on the balls of his feet as he regarded the woman observing him with such undisguised mistrust.

"I believe my services are required, yes?" he demanded, stepping forwards and frowning as he found Buffy barring his path to the corridor, and also his patient.

"How did you know?" Buffy pressed, jaw hardening as she maintained a close watch upon the doctor, who appeared nonplussed by such scrutiny.

"I always know when it is time," he replied, neither his tone nor the twinkling light in his eyes unkind. He inclined his bald head slightly in the direction of the bedroom in a silent gesture that sought Buffy's approval to continue. Gnawing on her bottom lip for a moment, Buffy contemplated her options. Whilst the doctor had given none of them cause to doubt his credibility in the time that he had tended to Dawn, his sudden appearance when he was needed most could be considered suspicious at the very least. Buffy had no need to remind herself that neither she nor Spike were equipped to deal with even the most straight forward of births, let alone those that were subject to potential complication, but the decision of allowing the doctor proximity to her sister was one that could not be taken lightly.

"But the baby's early, how did..." Buffy began, shooting a glance at the bedroom door, which hung ajar. Dr. Kalkirasch followed her gaze, nodding patiently despite his evident desire to reach his charge.

"This is all the more reason I must be allowed to intervene," he explained quietly, his words concise and clear despite the thick accent that at other times often muddied them. "I am a shaman, Miss. Summers. It is my job to be attuned to my patient. Your sister requires help that only I can provide her with, but you must make your choices, and quickly."

With a resolute nod, Buffy stepped aside, allowing the doctor to breeze along the corridor and into the bedroom. Following at a respectable distance, Buffy hovered on the threshold of the bedroom, actually wringing her hands in a physical display of the tension that riddled her body and mind.

"Dawn, it is a pleasure as always to see you, my dear," Dr. Kalkirasch crooned, kneeling at Dawn's side and beginning to ferret in his bag. Spike shot Buffy a questioning glance, although he appeared more relieved than anything else to see the doctor.

"Get... this... thing... out!" Dawn groaned, seeming both unsurprised and unconcerned by the appearance of the doctor. She was focused now only upon the pain, which left her feeling as though her body was somehow being torn in two. The urge to bear down was overwhelming, and Dawn found herself employing every last ounce of her will to prevent her body from simply doing what it felt was most natural.

"All in good time," Dr. Kalkirasch promised, snapping on a pair of latex gloves and then laying his open bag on the end of the mattress next to Dawn's feet. He gestured to the girl's legs, stiffened against the linen, and then to Buffy, who he beckoned to his side with the slight curl of one finger.

"I can't do this..." Dawn sobbed, wheeling to face Spike as she demanded through her tears, "just... make it stop..."

Dr. Kalkirasch smiled calmly at his ward, leaning forwards and resting one hand lightly on the mound of her stomach in a gesture that seemed immediately to calm Dawn. Both Spike and Buffy watched transfixed as the doctor locked eyes with his patient, and her crumpled features relaxed as though his touch were akin to a welcome shot of morphine.

"This is work that only you can undertake, Dawn," Dr. Kalkirasch murmured, motioning for Buffy to clamber onto the bed. The Slayer obliged, somewhat confused by the doctor's slow gesticulations, until she realised that she was being instructed to raise Dawn's left leg. Grabbing hold of her sister's ankle, Buffy gently but firmly eased her leg backwards, bending it at the knee and holding it high above the bed. Dawn seemed hardly to notice, her focus now directed on the doctor, who offered her a nod of approval.

"It is time," he continued, both his tone and features alive with excitement. "Today, you welcome a new soul into the world, and your hearts."

A smile affected Dawn's lips and, for a few seconds that felt almost infinite to both Buffy and Spike, the two simply gazed at each other, understanding of what was required of each passing between them with unmistakable clarity.

Then, as the first vestiges of the dawn began to break through the chink in Giles' bedroom drapes, Dawn began the most difficult task that all her eighteen years had asked of her yet. Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, now significantly dulled by the presence of the shaman's magic, Dawn employed the last of her strength.

A subsequent hour and a half passed, the silence interspaced only by Spike's soothing words of comfort as he laid a damp cloth to Dawn's forehead, and Dr. Kalkirasch's quiet, encouraging mumblings. Buffy watched it all with a sense of breathless detachment, amazed by the sudden change in her sister- the undeniable expression of focus, and the very fact that she made not a sound as nature took its inevitable course.

From her position near the foot of the bed, Buffy was privy to more than she had ever hoped to be, and yet she found herself somehow not wanting to look away. And it was with not even the faintest sense of regret that Buffy watched as her niece finally slipped into the world, her tiny, hiccupping cry acting as the catalyst to the Slayer's tears.

"You did it, honey," Buffy choked out, tearing her gaze away from the purplish, wrinkled child, now writhing in the doctor's arms as he worked methodically at clamping and cutting the cord. Buffy shot her sister a look, watching as shock, realisation and ecstasy passed in rapid succession across her wearied features. Dawn's mouth dropped open and, at her side, Spike beamed through the tears that stained tracks down his cheeks. Momentarily, all else had been forgotten in the face of such a miracle.

The doctor began to hum softly as he raised the baby into his arms, appraising her with a look succeeded by a broad smile that conveyed her wellbeing. Finally, he kissed the downy crown of her head, and passed the child into her mother's arms.

Dawn's eyes befell the squirming bundle as soon as it came to rest against her chest, and her lips parted in surprise at how a single thing could appear so perfect at just a glance. She had no need to await the 'rush of love' that she had heard many women speak of – the feeling crashed over her with the strength of waves against the rocks, and Dawn began to commit every last tiny dimple to memory. Spike reached out a trembling hand, awed as he stroked one finger across the baby's cheek, and laughed in mirth as she turned open-mouthed to attempt to suckle the appendage. Her tiny lips, pink still stained with a touch of blue, parted once again to reveal soft gums.

"She's..." Spike struggled to accurately voice such perfection, considering and dismissing at least ten words at once as being just inadequate to describe her. Dawn nodded, glancing up at Spike with adoration shining clearly in her eyes. The couple basked in the moment and, for the first time not feeling out of place or unwarranted, Buffy shared in both their joy and utter awe.

"Congratulations. Everything is as it should be," Dr. Kalkirasch finally spoke, seeming reluctant to interrupt the moment, although he rocked eagerly on the balls of his feet. "She is perfect... all that you hoped for... healthy and human."

"Thank you," Dawn whispered, too entranced by the newborn to tear her gaze away yet. The doctor nodded, un-affronted by the sudden lack of attention, and turned to look upon the Slayer, who was mopping at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan.

"My work here is almost done, and so is yours," he stated quietly. Buffy frowned, her gaze quizzical as she turned it upon the doctor, who without a further word spun on his heel and disappeared from the bedroom. Shooting Dawn a smile that went largely unnoticed, Buffy sped after the man- thoroughly confused, and now with her suspicions peaking once again.

She found him standing by the front door, his bloodied gloves discarded, and his hands busily working at the locks. Buffy opened her mouth, poised to call out a warning, but the front door swung open, too late.

Behind it was revealed the courtyard- empty, peaceful, and now bathed in the glorious mornings light.

A. N. – Not many chapters to go now. Apologies for the terrible update schedule. I will be truly amazed if people are still reading, so thank you to anyone who is. Followers of my other fics will know that I have spent the latter half of 2011 ill, and repeatedly hospitalised. I am now feeling much better, and am pleased to announce that the Spoon family is once again expanding, with our latest arrival due 26th June 2012. I have spent around a week re-editing this fic for minor errors, so you should now find the earlier chapters improved somewhat. Happy New Year to all.