Hey everyone. Here's the next chapter. I'm warning you, it's the saddest thing I've ever written. There's hints to Ally's life before, but if you're in a bad state of mind, suffering from the loss of a loved one, maybe you should just skip this. I did base a lot of Ally's feeling on my own, as I lost someone very dear a couple months ago. So it is pretty personal and it really isn't necessary to read this to follow the story if you're familiar with the BtVS plot.
Lee out.


She ran. She ran all the way from her apartment to the morgue, the news still not sinking in. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. She had been perfectly fine the previous day, excited about her date, the four girls gathered in the living room as a pre-date support group. There had to be some mistake, something that they didn't notice.

Joyce couldn't be dead.

But there were tears on her cheeks, freezing from the air, yet she was warm, too warm. How could she be crying when it hadn't even started to sink in? Joyce couldn't be dead, she couldn't. She was OK. She had seen her the day before, and she was perfectly fine. She was happy. She was excited.

She couldn't be dead.

Willow had called her. But Willow hadn't seen her, right? It could be a mistake. It had to be a mistake. She would get to the morgue and everyone would be there, but Joyce would be alright, telling them she was fine, that it was just a misunderstanding.

Because she couldn't be dead.

Not again. This couldn't happen again. Because mom could only die once. Only once. And she had seen it. There was no point in denying the first one. She had been there. She had seen her mother lay still on the floor, blood dripping down her neck, even as she was engaged in combat with one of those monsters. She had screamed, she knew it was real. It had hurt like a million stabs, like someone had been squeezing her hart until it bled, until it stopped beating, no air in her lungs, no breath, no life left in her for a second. She knew mom was dead.

So she couldn't have died again. It was not possible.

She got to the morgue, and stopped when she saw the group. Her friends. Her family. Mom was not there. She was not telling them she was fine. She was not there.

Ally approached the group, silent, so quiet they did not notice her at first. It was Tara who saw her. She slowly put her arms around the young brunette, and Ally held her back, but she couldn't utter a word.

The first time mom died, she hadn't said a word in three days. She just sat on his couch, a blanket around her, and stared at the shelves filled with old books. He threatened to force-feed her if she didn't eat at least one meal a day. Tactfulness wasn't one of his traits. He kept on bringing Chinese take-out, all three days.

Then the other one came. She liked his voice. She loved his accent. He could cheer her up even in the darkest of times. He kept her company, talked to her for hours even when she would only answer with nods and shakes of her head. She believed they thought she couldn't speak after the traumatic event, but eventually, after three days of mutism, she said 'Thank you' when he brought the typical white rice and vegetable soup.

But not long after that, a few months, really, the other left. Forever. And she missed his voice, his accent, his funny ways. She still missed his voice. Why did the people she loved keep on leaving?

Because now she knew, mom was dead again.

Tara released her and stepped back, letting Buffy take her place. And then Willow, and Xander, and Giles.

Dawnie was last. She looked hesitant, and Ally still hadn't said anything. They stared at each other, none of them voicing their thoughts, none of them crying anymore. After a few seconds, Dawn shifted, her lips trembled and she threw herself at her new best friend. The eldest held her tighter that anyone else, hiding her face on her shoulder, just like Dawn was doing, and they just stayed there.

Just held each other.


Eventually, Giles left to take care of the paperwork, Dawn went to the bathroom and Xander, Anya and Willow went to grab some snacks for everyone, leaving Buffy, Tara and Ally sitting on the waiting room.

Buffy and Tara talked. The latter's mom had died when she was seventeen. She shared her experience, but they didn't try to involve Ally. They all knew she hadn't dealt with her parent's death very well.

When the trio came back, arms full of food and beverages, Ally didn't even hear what they said. She felt something was terribly wrong, and it was no only Joyce's absence.

Then the now eldest Summers stood up and went to look for her sister, but Ally noticed she didn't go right, to the bathrooms, but left. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine, and she got up to follow the blonde.

Something was wrong.

They both accelerated on the corridor leading to the autopsy room. They both felt it. Buffy didn't even tell her to stay back.

Something was very wrong.

And then they heard her. Dawnie. Screaming. Not a scream of anguish, but of fear. There was something else inside the room with her.

Vampire.

Buffy broke the latch that kept the door locked and barged into the room, the Potential on her heels. They had lost Joyce. They were not going to lose their sister too.

They pulled the vampire away from Dawn, who went tumbling against one of the tables with a covered body on top, pulling the sheet down with her fall. Ally went after her, leaving the Slayer to deal with the noob vampire; the only thing in her mind, making sure Dawn was not hurt. She couldn't lose her too.

And then they saw her. On the table, face uncovered. They didn't even notice the sound of the vampire turning to dust, or Buffy calling her sister quietly.

It was mom. Joyce. But she was not there anymore.