"It hurts, doesn't it? Losing your family rips out your heart and your guts and your feelings until all that's left is the pain. Right? Welcome to the club."
-- Callisto
The look on her face was just priceless. Widening of the it-can't-be-true eyes and a quiver of the isn't-my-life-hard-enough? chin. Her fingers gripped the edge of the door; weak as a baby bird she clutched it for support. I gave her my best golden-orbed smirk, revealing fangs, revealing everything.
She loses so much. And just when she thinks she's lost it all, *again,* she realizes that there's still so much more. She's a loving person. There will always be more.
The demon that possesses my body tells me she looks delicious. Creamy-smooth, cooked nicely, a pastry in the oven. Odd metaphor, but that's what happens when I get hungry. She's starting to cry now; valiant little pearls are making their way down her cheek.
Being turned is a good way to get jaded quickly. I remember, for instance, the night she told me we had the same blood. She could keep me safe forever; nothing could hurt me when Buffy was around. Now, she just looked small, fragile. The raw power that burned inside her was gone. Well, losing your family can do that to you.
"You've still got Dad," I told her comfortingly, my human mask coming to the fore. My eyes were twinkling; I know because they always do when I'm enjoying myself as much as I was.
She shook at that. Not her head, her whole body gave one long tremble and she lifted her hands to stifle loud sobs. I'm worth real crying, Buffy? I'm honored that you would contort your perfect face for me.
Suddenly her hidden strength came back in a rush, all her muscles tensing with it. I see why Spike always got her so mad before they fought - she's just no fun unless she is. One arms flew out of her stronghold, aiming a punch at my ches: even I deflected it easily. Blurred vision, slowed reflexes.
I held her hand in mine for an instant, remembering the way she would clutch my fingers as we crossed the street, especially back when Angel was in town. Then I brought that same hand to my lips. Buried my pretty new teeth in it. There's a new thing to know, Buffy, on the back of your hand. A memento of my passing. A scar erected in remembrance of Dawn.
I left my mark on her. She won't forget me.
*It's not safe for you to walk there.* I guess she was right.
*Look, it's blood. It's Summers blood.* Why didn't you ever tell me it would taste so sweet?
*You're not my sister.* No, Buffy. Not anymore.