Author's Note: I apologise for the relatively long space between uploads. Running two stories at once alongside uni work can be a little hectic at times! Nonetheless, I hope you all enjoy, and as always feel free to leave a review.
Chapter 6: Home Truths
After an initial period of stunned silence, Sunnydale slowly began to re-emerge. The emergency services, who always seemed to vanish in the face of the inexplicable, now began to resume their regular duties as if nothing had happened. They - like the rest of the populace - began to either rationalise the last few days' events in their minds, or instead plunge themselves into a routine sense of denial. For the residents of Sunnydale; this was as close as life came to normality.
The sunlight streaming through the slightly ajar curtains roused Dawn reluctantly into consciousness. She pulled the duvet inelegantly over her head, releasing a muffled groan into the soft material. A brief, blurry glance at the alarm clock informed her that Willow and Tara would not approve of her sleeping away her Saturday afternoon. Instead, she rose to her feet and took several sluggish steps towards the window, opening the curtains and gazing down into the street below.
Dawn could see and hear the endeavours of several of their neighbours continuing the week-long battle to repair their vandalised doors and windows. At least it seemed like the majority of the front lawns had effectively been entirely cleared, and the street itself had been pretty well swept two days following the Hellions retreat from Sunnydale, vanishing out of their lives onto the roads beyond.
As Dawn went through the mundanities of the morning routine, she decided that it would be today. Today she would talk to Willow and Tara about Buffy. Soon enough she was rushing down the stairs and into the living room, where the two women sat on the couch, Willow sorting through a collection of mail whilst Tara made notes beside her.
"Hey there Dawny!" Willow greeted her, putting the pile of opened envelopes to one side for a moment. "How's it goin'?"
"I'm okay. Can umm… can we talk for a sec?"
"Of course sweetie," Tara answered her, shifting over to the left and patting the centre of the couch in invitation.
"What's on your mind?" Willow asked as Dawn sat down between them.
"Well… it's Buffy – I mean the Buffybot,"
"Oh," Tara began. "Did she try to cook breakfast by herself again, or-"
"No, no, nothing like that," Dawn replied, shaking her head. "It's just… you'll probably think I'm being crazy or something…"
"No, it's okay – go on." Tara encouraged her gently.
"It's just… I've been thinking. Sometimes, like at Spike's place, the stuff she says... the way she talked about how he doesn't like being around her anymore – it seemed to really bother her. Like, like it hurt her. Like she actually, yknow, felt something."
Tara looked pensive for a moment, but Willow just took Dawn's hand, a look of deep sympathy in her eyes. "Dawny, this has got to be super hard for you. Buffy was my best friend – but she was your sister. It's really not okay that you still have to pretend to the whole world that everything's hunky-dory all the time. It's not fair on you to see something that looks like Buffy walking around all the time, pretending to be her... I can't imagine what that's like. But it's super important that you're clear on this; it's not her Dawn."
"Willow's right," Tara agreed. "It can't help the grieving process – stopping you from yknow, trying to move on?"
"I know she's not Buffy," Dawn insisted, shaking her head. "But still I saw it – she worries about things, she feels things."
"Dawn, let me try and explain a sec. You uhh… you remember what Buffybot was made for, right?" Willow asked carefully.
Dawn aimed a half-smirk at Tara. "Not for playing checkers with…"
Tara avoided her gaze sheepishly.
"Uh huh…" Willow continued awkwardly. "Well, basically… she was created to make people happy, see? Specifically… to make Spike happy. To do that, she can sorta recognise basic emotions – facial expressions, the tone in our voices – but that's all it is. We've changed her programming a lot since then, but that's always going to be like the filter through which she sees things, yknow?"
Dawn pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You really think that's all it is?"
Willow nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. Maybe just try doing what I do – when she seems to be concerned about something like that – just be nice, tell her she's wrong, or its just Spike being broody or something like that. Don't let her dwell. She should forget about it soon enough. Our Buffybot doesn't really have the longest attention span…"
Dawn thanked her, rising from the couch and heading towards the kitchen. Willow immediately reached for the pile of bills once again, but Tara briefly excused herself before heading after her.
"Hey, Dawn?" Tara asked, after catching up with the younger girl beside the kitchen table. "I'm sure Willow's right about all this, but… if you like I could keep an eye on Buffybot? Just to check she's doing okay?"
Dawn crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "You don't sound sure to me…"
"Well…" Tara considered. "I don't know anything about robotics, or cybernetics or anything like that… but I… I know what you meant about her. Just, just try not to worry too much about it over the next few days okay? We want you to hit the ground running when the school re-opens on Monday."
"What are you, my evil step-mother now?" Dawn asked dryly, to which Tara smiled in playful amusement. "Sure. I'll be sure to squeeze in at least some homework every week… promise."
With that, Dawn quickly embraced Tara before running back upstairs, landing back on her bed with a thump. Without so much as missing a beat, she pulled out her journal and began to scribble the first of today's entries:
Willow doesn't believe me about Buffybot. I don't know if she's right. She may be a super-Wicca these days, and super smart besides – but she doesn't know everything. Not everything.
I'm going to bring up taking me out patrolling again at dinner. After all, Willow and Tara promised.
Willow was grateful when Anya barrelled in through the front door, striding into the living room as if she owned the place.
"Hi Anya!" Willow greeted her. "Can we get ya something to eat, or-"
"I only have an hour," Anya blurted out, cutting the other girl off sharply. "If I close the Magic Box for more than one hour, my profit margins are at risk. So… what do you want?"
"If this is a bad time… We could always do this later?" Tara suggested.
Anya sighed, some of the tension releasing from her face. "No, it's fine."
"Something on your mind Anya?" Willow asked. "Cause when there's something on your mind, its usually also kinda… in our ears."
Anya didn't require much persuading. "It's Xander. Ever since the whole… you know, dark ritual in the graveyard he's been…" Anya trailed off for a moment.
"He's been talking about the ritual?" Willow asked.
"No. It's the opposite. He hasn't talked about it. No-one's talking about it – Why? All this time we've focused almost everything on bringing Buffy back – and now it's over… and no-one's saying anything!"
"What's there to say?" Willow asked dejectedly.
"Well I don't know… All I know is Xander's been all quiet these last few days. He just comes home from work and sits down… he barely even wants to have sex anymore…"
"Anya, it's only been three days..." Tara pointed out. "Grief takes a while to get through your system – and it's different for everyone. Why don't you just give it some time?"
Anya just pouted. "And when was the last time you went three days without sex?"
Neither Willow nor Tara felt the need to answer that.
"Oh, so you two have something more important to talk about?"
Willow held up the pile of envelopes. "Money stuff."
Anya's face broke into a grin, her distraught seemingly forgotten in a moment. After a brief explanation by Willow, she moved to the nearby desk and set about sorting the papers boisterously, copying a series of figures onto a blank notebook beside them. As she worked, Willow and Tara looked on uncertainly, until finally Anya turned to face them once again.
"Okay, so. Main problem seems to be the house. It's haemorrhaging cash like… well like a house haemorrhaging cash. What's left of Buffy's inheritance money has been shielding you from it so far – but obviously her mom's medical bills emptied that well pretty thoroughly…"
"How long would you say we have?" Tara asked, taking Willow's hand almost unconsciously.
Anya looked thoughtful for a moment.
"A couple months – as long as you don't send Dawn on some extravagant shopping sprees. Then… well we have a problem. Well, more accurately you have a problem. I'm fine."
Willow cast her eyes to the side in a resigned manner. "Thanks for that Anya."
"Don't thank me. Thank Capitalism!" Anya proclaimed with an obnoxious grin.
After accepting an invitation to dinner before patrolling that night, she brusquely rushed out of the house, barely leaving time to say goodbye.
"Well that was…" Tara started.
"It was." Willow agreed. "I hoped it all just looked worse than it actually was."
"We can handle this," Tara assured her. "There are options – we could find part-time jobs, or maybe just get a loan to cover this next semester…"
"Or…" Willow suggested. "I mean I could… yknow… probably… do a spell and -"
"No!" Tara exclaimed suddenly, dropping Willow's hand and pulling away. "Willow, we can't use magic to solve our money issues!"
Willow frowned in surprise at Tara's strong reaction. "Why not?"
"Because that's a line we can't cross!" Tara insisted. "We can't just use magic in our normal lives to make our problems just go away – that's not what magic is for Willow!"
"But we're not living a normal life!" Willow countered vehemently. "We're looking after Dawn, trying to save our house… Meanwhile, we're working hard to make it look like Buffy's all fine and dandy – and any free time we might use to make some money we use researching and fighting whatever demons roll on into town. It's not about using magic as some quick and easy fix – this is about giving us the time to do what we have to do – to keep people safe Tara!"
Tara rubbed her hands together pensively, her eyes cast downwards. "Maybe that's how it starts Wil. But it's a slippery slope – and I don't like where it leads"
"Well - you're wrong."
Tara raised her eyes to Willow once again, her face full of hurt. Willow reached out an apologetic arm, but Tara just ignored it, getting to her feet and running upstairs. Willow watched her go, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Why couldn't Tara see it? Magic was a power she had earned, through years of dedication. She'd used it to save countless people – and now she had the power to fix their own problems – and she deserved to have them fixed.
Willow just closed her eyes, and just tried to forget the argument ever happened.
As Xander and Anya joined Dawn and Tara at the table, Willow carried the immense glass bowl of macaroni cheese in from the kitchen, placing it at the table's centre with a muted clink.
The meal was quiet. They exchanged the usual pleasantries, asking after Xander's latest construction project, Anya's week at the Magic Box, Dawn's latest high school antics and Willow and Tara's seminars, yet the pauses between each subject were tangible, nonetheless. Each of their gazes were downcast, save for during the fleeting snippets of conversation which passed across the table.
Dawn finished pushing the last pieces of pasta around her plate. This particular dinner had never been about food.
"So, guys…" She started coyly, keeping her eyes on the plate. "Can I go patrol with you tonight?"
Everyone's eyes shot up. The fork carrying the last of Xander's third helping froze on the way to his mouth, and Willows fingers began twitching atop the table.
"Well, Dawny…" Willow began. "We talked it over at the last Scooby meeting…"
"And?" Dawn asked with impatient enthusiasm.
"We think getting you started on research might be a better approach," Xander answered, gesticulating slightly with his loaded fork.
"Wait what?" Dawn questioned sharply, dropping her fork onto the plate.
"Dawn, things can get pretty crazy out on patrol," Tara explained softly. "We never know what might be waiting for us out there – we just can't be sure we can keep you safe"
"From death," Anya clarified, emphasised by a series of small, rapid nods. "In a variety of variously horrible ways. Stabbing, biting, mauling… that sort of thing."
"But if we get you started hitting the books…" Xander offered, "you'll start amassing a whole bunch of demon know-how, so when the time comes…"
"You'll be ready." Willow finished with a confident smile, reaching out to take Anya's empty plate beside her and place it neatly atop her own.
Dawn shot her an underwhelmed frown in reply, but nodded glumly, nonetheless.
Thoughts continued to buzz around Dawn's mind long after she turned out her bedside light. Willow and Tara had promised to help her learn to fight demons – to fight for herself. Sure, helping research was something, kinda, but she was pretty sure whatever she found wouldn't help her much when a vampire jumped out of a nearby alley and backed her against a wall.
Eugh.
All in all, it was definitely an every-type-of-cereal-raid kind of night.
Silent as a ghost, Dawn slowly inched open her bedroom door, slipping out into the hallway before gliding down the stairs. She was just swerving around into the dining room when she caught something on the corner of her eye.
Turning back around, Dawn blinked in surprise.
It was Buffy.
She was stood in front of the small end-table beside the couch, her head slightly bowed. She still wore her now regular patrolling outfit - the clothes Spike had given her before heading out to fight the Hellions leader. Between her hands was a picture frame which Dawn immediately recognised.
"Buffy?" Dawn asked, slight apprehension in her voice. "What are you doing down here?"
Buffy seemed almost not to notice her, instead moving her right hand so that her fingers were touching the image.
"Buffy?" Dawn repeated, stepping within arm's reach of her almost-sister.
"This is our mother." Buffy stated simply, her eyes not leaving the image.
Dawn nodded solemnly.
"But I do not know her," Buffy admitted, finally turning her head to face Dawn. "Why do I not know her Dawn?"
"Oh. Well… you see – I mean it's-" Dawn stuttered, blinking rapidly as she tried to form the words. She felt a weight in her chest as she tried to answer.
"Was she tall?" Buffy asked. "What clothes did she wear? Was she funny? Did she like peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches? What was her favourite colour?"
She fired off each silly question more rapidly than the last, her words incongruous with the sincere seriousness in her tone and her manner. As Dawn just froze, silent, Buffy stopped.
"She was the other Buffy's mother." She finally admitted. "Her biological ancestor. I… I do not have a biological ancestor as I am not… human. But when I see this," Buffy articulated, pointing to the picture once again. Then she hesitated, narrowing her eyes slightly as if she was trying to peer through a blinding fog. "I do not understand. I know she is my mother."
"Buffy…" Dawn finally answered, fidgeting awkwardly on the spot. "It's… it's just a little complicated – y-you shouldn't worry about it."
In her panic, she had subconsciously fallen back on Willow's advice after all.
"Xander called her the real Buffy." Buffy informed her almost sadly. "Am I not real?"
Buffy put down the picture, before raising her hand to touch her own cheek. "Because I feel like I am real. And you are my sister, Dawn."
Dawn started to back away slowly, holding her hands out in front of her. It was too much.
"I-I'm sorry. I can't – I just can't!"
Dawn sprinted up the stairs, her earlier attempts to remain unheard forgotten in a moment. She ran straight into her bedroom, wrenching the door aside and tumbling roughly into her bed. She curled up amongst the chaotic mess of covers and pillows, failing to repress the sobs of grief and hurt which suddenly wracked her. Like Buffybot, she didn't understand either.
"Dawn?"
She looked up to see Tara in the doorway, one hand resting against the side of the door, sleep heavy in her eyes. Dawn raised her tear-stained face, and in response Tara crossed to the bed and sat beside her, wordlessly embracing the younger girl. They stayed like that for a while, until Dawn became more tranquil, and then Tara began to speak to her in soft, calming whispers.
