AUTHOR: Collie.
EMAIL: collie@blar.org
SUMMARY: Dawn contemplates life after Joyce.
RATING: PG.
FEEDBACK: If I said no, would you believe me?
SPOILERS: Mostly 'The Body'. Some up to, here and there.
DISTRIBUTION: YGTS?, Through My Eyes, Kat's site, anyone who already has my stuff archived, and any list archives. Anyone else, just let me know.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. The song 'Comatose' is copyright Martin Gore and the rest of Depeche Mode.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Answer to Challenge #201 at YGTS? Unbeta'd. Just spell-checked. IMPROV #20: twin deaf mild asleep. Companion piece of Kat's 'The Silence of the World. (Buffy POV)'. Read it!
DEDICATION: To Ragna for the challenge, and to Kat for writing this with me after Wenchy left the project. I feel special, considering you two have more Evil Points (TM) than me. ;)
She's watching me again. I pretend to be asleep. I know that if I acknowledge her, she'll want to.. talk.
//Comatose, almost
You've got me dreaming
Slipping in
And sliding out
Of conscious feeling//
I can't talk right now.
So many emotions flying. Fears and wonders.
I didn't believe her at first. When she told me mom was dead. I didn't want to. It all made this life somewhat more.. real. I was at school, pretending to be a real girl. Then my real sister comes in and tells me my real mother is dead. It was surreal, because she wasn't my mother. Not really.
But I was her daughter. She was mine, and I was her's. I belong to them - real or not - and that made it even worse. They didn't have to love me or care for me, but they did anyway.
I don't know how to handle this.
//Take a light
Start the flame
Play the game
I am lost//
Closing my eyes, I see her again. Radiant and shining, my mother. Her smile so warm; arms and embrace. Her hair always smelled like home. She was soft and strong and kind and firm and my mother..
My mother.
I always felt so proud when she smiled at me. I tried my very hardest so she would love me as much as she loved Buffy. I know I'm not the Slayer, but.. I think she loved me just as much. I've never saved the world or anything, but I did all I could with what I had.
I miss her.
//In your eyes
Hypnotized
Here I believe
Dreams never deceive//
She's gone now, and won't come back. I feel so foolish, trying to make her real again. Zombie-mom? Yeah, that's warm and fuzzy. She'd probably just try to eat my brains, or something. I can't believe I was so stupid.
No, not stupid - desperate.
It seems I've been desperate a lot these days. Desperate for meaning, desperate for acceptance, desperate for answers to unasked questions. Sometimes I think about dark things. I can't talk to Buffy about them, because she'd probably put me in therapy.
I think about.. suicide. Dying. Not in a teen-angsty way. Please, I'm far beyond that. Besides, if you want to get all technical, I still have a good twelve years to go before I'm a real teenager.
No, I wonder.. if I died, or killed myself, would the key be gone? Or, would the energy just transfer into something else? Maybe, like.. my bed? Or, maybe it has to be living. Like, that stray dog that we sometimes feed in the backyard? Or, Miss. Kitty? Or would they just make me all over again? A twin of me. If I died, would they just make me all over again and plop me down in Buffy's lap once more? And if they did, would I know? Would they know?
Would it hurt?
//Comatose, almost
You've got me dreaming
Slipping in
And sliding out
Life has no meaning//
What is.. is Buffy humming? Oh, come on.. I'm not some baby that needs to be sung to sleep. I was doing perfectly fine before you came in here, hovering over me like a mother hen. I don't need to be looked after or cooed at. I may not be a big girl yet, but I certainly have the memories and mind set of one. Oh, yeah..
And no touching me.
I bat her hand away and I wince slightly as she leaves, the hurt in her footsteps echoing in my brain.
Oh well.
Keys don't feel guilty. So.. yeah.
Blankets and covers and beds and pillows are warm and snuggly. Good place for sleep and forgetting. But then, the dreaming starts again, and mom is always there. And I wake up, and she's gone. Maybe.. I could just sleep forever. Maybe there's a spell for that..
//Bodies move
Colours change
Girl you're strange//
"Dawn, wake up. You have to go to school."
I jerk awake, frowning. Why is she back? School? How can she expect me to go to school? I groan, yanking the covers up over my head, curling up in a ball, away from her and her forced cheerfulness. I can see her right now, in the back of my mind. Hair pristine and brushed and all shining and crap. Pretty clothing that fits like a glove on her perfect body. A huge fake movie-star smile and all those white teeth blinding me in the dark. Those lips that..
.. ew. Kiss my cheek. I hate sister kisses. They seem kind of dirty.
"Wake up. You have to go."
God, she sounds fake. All cheerful and happy and.. yeah, right. It's seven o'clock in the morning. That's, like, against all laws of God and man.
Then again, knowing Buffy, she hasn't even been to bed yet.
Lucky.
I fight back the mild nausea that ensues when I sit up, from too many days of not eating enough, and the thought of facing Buffy, the Bluebird of Happiness. Thankfully, she's gone when I get out of bed. Downstairs, most likely trying to make some stupid normal breakfast, and when I don't eat, she'll yell at me and I'll cry and she'll cry and..
No. This isn't right.
I love Buffy. She's my sister. Even if I am just a blob of energy, I still love her, and she loves me. I know she's only trying to make this easier. Trying to make things seem normal. I shouldn't give her such a hard time. This is where I belong, and I know I'll be okay as long as she's here.
//Here inside
I'm at home
I'm alive//
Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Shoes on. Get books. Get bag. Pause to hold mom's antique gold ring that Buffy doesn't know I have. I can hear her now..
"You shouldn't have that, Dawn. It's a family heirloom. You'll just loose it. Put it back in mom's jewelry box."
Yeah, well. I'm family. Like it or not. I'm.. family.
I am.
Walk downstairs.
Stop to look at Buffy, who hasn't made breakfast. I can't look at her for too long, because suddenly my eyes sting too much with tears. So, I just walk out. Not saying a word. If she has spoken, I've turned a deaf ear.
I will try, but not now. I need time to heal. We all do.
Especially Buffy.
//Don't be afraid
I'm floating away//
I skip school. Go to Xander's apartment. He's at work, but Anya is there. I like Anya, because she's truthful. She doesn't hide secrets from me or give me that sideways pity glance like everyone else does. We talk for a little while, about my mom, Buffy, me, and death in general. She doesn't understand it, so I try to explain it to her. I realize that talking about death in such a clinical way makes it somehow easier to deal with. As if analyzing my mom's death somehow puts it apart from me. Like I'm looking inside through a window, instead of standing right next to her coffin.
I thank Anya, then leave.
I go to the park and sit. Write. Draw. Anything to pass the time until I can go home and tell Buffy all about how school was today.
I allow myself to think about my mother again. I fall asleep under a tree.
//Comatose, almost
You've got me dreaming
Slipping in
And sliding out
Of conscious feeling//
I dream that Glory is dead. I dream that we're all safe, and that my mom is still alive, her arms wrapped around me and Buffy.
"I'm so proud of you, Buffy. You saved the world. You saved your sister."
"I love you, Dawn. You'll always be real to me. My real daughter."
I love you, mommy.
//Comatose, almost
Comatose//