SISTERS
chapter 2: Annie
By: Verna
Note: Thank you soooo much to everyone who reviewed last time! It ment a lot. Oh. and this is not going to turn into one of those Dawn and Spike relationship things. They are only friends.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Annie. Joss W. owns the rest of them.
***
It seemed simple. All she had to do was get some of her sister's stuff. Cloths or hair or maybe something else she'd liked a lot. Shouldn't be too hard. Next she needed the blood of 'lovers of face and blood'. That ment she had to get one drop of blood from Buffy's family and friends. How hard could that be? Not very!
Willow and Anya weren't taking her very seriously on this. "Don't mess around with it. You might do more harm than good. Leave it alone. The wounds are still too fresh." So she worked on it for weeks in her room. Every one thought she was hiding from her sister's death and that it was just a delayed reaction but Dawn knew the truth.
Giles was firm in his belief that it was all because of Spike crying over this and that and whatever other past sins had come to haunt him.
But Spike was the perfect 'father' for the girl. He cooked good healthy food for her and made sure she went to school and did her homework. He worried about her and made sure she was safe and he was good for her. And in a way she was good for him too. He was trying to figure the whole soul thing out and what a better way to test a soul than a teen aged girl? They had a system that worked for everyone involved.
For her spell, Dawn collected some hair off of one of Buffy's brushes. She didn't NEED hair but something she had when she died. Buffy always had hair. Then she grabbed a cross necklace of Buffy's. That was the easy part. The next part ment that she had to get everyone's blood. That would prove harder.
A few days before she planned to do this, she was talking to Spike in the living room while doing her homework.
"You were around in the 1900's right?"
"Where, Pet? Different places did different things at that time. Kinda crazy. For the most part I was in China." He sounded cheerful.
"Well, I was studying Victorian England but thanks anyhow." She
worked in silence for a moment more before her thoughts began to race ahead to what she was planing and to her sister. These thoughts led her to think about what Spike had said (or failed to say) about his sister. "What was her name?"
"What? Who?"
"Your sister. What was her name?"
"Annie." He said shortly. She could tell he didn't want to talk about it. His cheerful mood was gone.
"Oh" She tried to go back to her homework but her mind would not let go of the idea of this 'Annie'
"What was she like?" Dawn had already formed an image in her mind of a petite little thing with pale blonde hair and pale blue eyes with pale skin and blue silk gowns with her hands folded in her lap.
There was no answer from Spike.
"Spike?"
Nothing. She stood up and walked over to where he sat watching 'Passions' reruns. Tears ran down his face.
"You killed her didn't you." Dawn didn't know what else to say. It was strange. Spike had never been like this.
"...And her husband only four days after the wedding." His voice was choked and hard to hear.
"I'm done with my homework now. I'm going to bed." She gave him a tentative kiss on the cheek and got her stuff together and went upstairs.
She'd gotten into her PJ's and was reading a book in bed when she heard it. it was nothing more than a bone chilling whisper: "You need him. But he needs you too. This is big. And it's coming..." Dawn looked around her messy room and there in the corner stood a girl about four or so years older than her.
She had dark blonde hair with bright green eyes and a pretty green dress. Around her neck she wore a beautiful gold cross with rubies on it that twinkled in the dim light. She looked nothing like how she imagined her but some how Dawn knew it was Annie.
***
Spike turned off the TV and headed down to the basement. He turned on a light. Looking around he quickly found what he was looking for. In the early days before his 'spike torturing', he used to take a personal item off his victims and replace it with a knife in the ribs to divert attention from the neck wounds. For two hundred years he'd kept these things in a box. That box was what he was after now.
It wasn't hard to find. It was the only box he owned that was not
made of cardboard. It was wood and covered in dust. Lifting it up off the self he thought he could almost hear the faint cries of those he had killed and the tears threatened to return but he reminded himself that he was SPIKE! And Spike was strong and big and mean. Hey. They didn't call him big bad for nothing. And so he carried the box over to the center of the room and put it down on the table in front of him.
He opened the lid and reched in but drew his hand out before he even touch anything. How would it feel now that he had a soul to be reminded of all the thing's he'd done. He knew that in this box lay items that people had once cherished and he'd killed them. No remorse. until now.
There was clothes and jewelry and photographs. Those would be the hardest because it would show their faces. In a flash a hundred images filled his head of people screaming and begging for mercy. No! he had to do this. He unclenched his hand and reached in...
***
She couldn't sleep after that. How could she. One minute she's reading in bed with her head in the clouds and the next she is getting freaky warning things from ghosts and the next the ghost is gone. She got up and did what any scared kid would do. Ran to 'Big-Bad'.
Dawn watched from the stairs as Spike pulled a box off of a self and he hesitated before he opened it. Then he began to pull things out. A hat that looked like it came off of some 50's TV show. A dress with tassels all over it like from the twenties and thirties. A picture of a boy and his family on the beach from the 1900's when Spike said he'd been in China. A lady's glove. Things kept coming out. Each older than the last but Spike never stopped to ponder or really even look at what came out of the box. He was looking for something.
The pile next to him grew and Dawn knew the box must be nearly
empty. He sat amid dresses and old coats and now he was starting to pull out the small stuff that had fallen to the bottom of the box with all the years of sifting. Jewelry and knifes and even a few shoes. God! Where did he get all this stuff?! Then it hit her where it came from. She had not seen the blood stains on the clothes because she was trying not to realize where it all came from. He'd killed the owners of these things. That boy on the beach from the 1900's was dead. And whomever had given up that wedding ring had not done so willingly.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice that he'd found what he was looking for. In his hand he held two things. A old silk ball gown from the 1880's that had once been beautiful and green and an old gold chain with a ruby and gold cross on it. He held it by the chain.
that was the necklace that Annie had been wearing only moments ago in her room. Or had it been years ago... And was that the same dress? Was that how she looked when she died? Yes. the old rust colored blood stains on the dress matched the ones that had been new upstairs. She almost fell down the stairs from the shock but caught herself and began to silently make her way back up. He needed to be alone.
"Dawn? You there Nibblet?"
***
TBC....?
chapter 2: Annie
By: Verna
Note: Thank you soooo much to everyone who reviewed last time! It ment a lot. Oh. and this is not going to turn into one of those Dawn and Spike relationship things. They are only friends.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Annie. Joss W. owns the rest of them.
***
It seemed simple. All she had to do was get some of her sister's stuff. Cloths or hair or maybe something else she'd liked a lot. Shouldn't be too hard. Next she needed the blood of 'lovers of face and blood'. That ment she had to get one drop of blood from Buffy's family and friends. How hard could that be? Not very!
Willow and Anya weren't taking her very seriously on this. "Don't mess around with it. You might do more harm than good. Leave it alone. The wounds are still too fresh." So she worked on it for weeks in her room. Every one thought she was hiding from her sister's death and that it was just a delayed reaction but Dawn knew the truth.
Giles was firm in his belief that it was all because of Spike crying over this and that and whatever other past sins had come to haunt him.
But Spike was the perfect 'father' for the girl. He cooked good healthy food for her and made sure she went to school and did her homework. He worried about her and made sure she was safe and he was good for her. And in a way she was good for him too. He was trying to figure the whole soul thing out and what a better way to test a soul than a teen aged girl? They had a system that worked for everyone involved.
For her spell, Dawn collected some hair off of one of Buffy's brushes. She didn't NEED hair but something she had when she died. Buffy always had hair. Then she grabbed a cross necklace of Buffy's. That was the easy part. The next part ment that she had to get everyone's blood. That would prove harder.
A few days before she planned to do this, she was talking to Spike in the living room while doing her homework.
"You were around in the 1900's right?"
"Where, Pet? Different places did different things at that time. Kinda crazy. For the most part I was in China." He sounded cheerful.
"Well, I was studying Victorian England but thanks anyhow." She
worked in silence for a moment more before her thoughts began to race ahead to what she was planing and to her sister. These thoughts led her to think about what Spike had said (or failed to say) about his sister. "What was her name?"
"What? Who?"
"Your sister. What was her name?"
"Annie." He said shortly. She could tell he didn't want to talk about it. His cheerful mood was gone.
"Oh" She tried to go back to her homework but her mind would not let go of the idea of this 'Annie'
"What was she like?" Dawn had already formed an image in her mind of a petite little thing with pale blonde hair and pale blue eyes with pale skin and blue silk gowns with her hands folded in her lap.
There was no answer from Spike.
"Spike?"
Nothing. She stood up and walked over to where he sat watching 'Passions' reruns. Tears ran down his face.
"You killed her didn't you." Dawn didn't know what else to say. It was strange. Spike had never been like this.
"...And her husband only four days after the wedding." His voice was choked and hard to hear.
"I'm done with my homework now. I'm going to bed." She gave him a tentative kiss on the cheek and got her stuff together and went upstairs.
She'd gotten into her PJ's and was reading a book in bed when she heard it. it was nothing more than a bone chilling whisper: "You need him. But he needs you too. This is big. And it's coming..." Dawn looked around her messy room and there in the corner stood a girl about four or so years older than her.
She had dark blonde hair with bright green eyes and a pretty green dress. Around her neck she wore a beautiful gold cross with rubies on it that twinkled in the dim light. She looked nothing like how she imagined her but some how Dawn knew it was Annie.
***
Spike turned off the TV and headed down to the basement. He turned on a light. Looking around he quickly found what he was looking for. In the early days before his 'spike torturing', he used to take a personal item off his victims and replace it with a knife in the ribs to divert attention from the neck wounds. For two hundred years he'd kept these things in a box. That box was what he was after now.
It wasn't hard to find. It was the only box he owned that was not
made of cardboard. It was wood and covered in dust. Lifting it up off the self he thought he could almost hear the faint cries of those he had killed and the tears threatened to return but he reminded himself that he was SPIKE! And Spike was strong and big and mean. Hey. They didn't call him big bad for nothing. And so he carried the box over to the center of the room and put it down on the table in front of him.
He opened the lid and reched in but drew his hand out before he even touch anything. How would it feel now that he had a soul to be reminded of all the thing's he'd done. He knew that in this box lay items that people had once cherished and he'd killed them. No remorse. until now.
There was clothes and jewelry and photographs. Those would be the hardest because it would show their faces. In a flash a hundred images filled his head of people screaming and begging for mercy. No! he had to do this. He unclenched his hand and reached in...
***
She couldn't sleep after that. How could she. One minute she's reading in bed with her head in the clouds and the next she is getting freaky warning things from ghosts and the next the ghost is gone. She got up and did what any scared kid would do. Ran to 'Big-Bad'.
Dawn watched from the stairs as Spike pulled a box off of a self and he hesitated before he opened it. Then he began to pull things out. A hat that looked like it came off of some 50's TV show. A dress with tassels all over it like from the twenties and thirties. A picture of a boy and his family on the beach from the 1900's when Spike said he'd been in China. A lady's glove. Things kept coming out. Each older than the last but Spike never stopped to ponder or really even look at what came out of the box. He was looking for something.
The pile next to him grew and Dawn knew the box must be nearly
empty. He sat amid dresses and old coats and now he was starting to pull out the small stuff that had fallen to the bottom of the box with all the years of sifting. Jewelry and knifes and even a few shoes. God! Where did he get all this stuff?! Then it hit her where it came from. She had not seen the blood stains on the clothes because she was trying not to realize where it all came from. He'd killed the owners of these things. That boy on the beach from the 1900's was dead. And whomever had given up that wedding ring had not done so willingly.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice that he'd found what he was looking for. In his hand he held two things. A old silk ball gown from the 1880's that had once been beautiful and green and an old gold chain with a ruby and gold cross on it. He held it by the chain.
that was the necklace that Annie had been wearing only moments ago in her room. Or had it been years ago... And was that the same dress? Was that how she looked when she died? Yes. the old rust colored blood stains on the dress matched the ones that had been new upstairs. She almost fell down the stairs from the shock but caught herself and began to silently make her way back up. He needed to be alone.
"Dawn? You there Nibblet?"
***
TBC....?