NOTE: 'blah' are thoughts; "blah" are spoken.
Setting: The night of the episode in which Anya and Spike slept together, and Spike told Xander about himself and Buffy.
******
'That bastard!' she thought, 'Thinks he can be in charge now? -ruin everything. God, I need to have sex! Not the way he screwed me over tonight- the way he used to screw me every night.'
She climbed the stairs in fury, yet silently. 'Used to...' she reminded herself.
'It must be tomorrow by now'.
'But this is what Angel and Riley would be here for. A good decent shag, with no consequences. Well, except for Ang- Oh great, now I'm picking up on his lingo?!'
'As if he has the right.'
She was at the top of the stairs now. Insane with hatred and- jealousy?
'Dawn...'
But what he had done didn't matter to her- did it?
'He thinks it's okay to fuck Bu- fuck up Buffy, then play nice with her innocent-yet-not-so-naive sister...'
Buffy scowled at Dawn's bedroom door, her hand clenching the top of the bannister. It was a glare that could have burned a hole straight through the door, had slayers possessed such powers.
Her heart started to beat faster than it did on her brisk walk home.
One foot scuffed in the direction of Dawn's door.
Eyes wide and lips pursed. She let go her grip on the rail.
"Dawn" -a whisper on her lips. She didn't expect a response. Dawn was long asleep.
Buffy's eyes were glazed over in hurt and fury, both from the occurances of that night, and the ones made up in her mind. And there was an aching in her empty abdomen that had grown ever since she had the foolish thought to say no to Spike- and go through with it.
Now she was right in front of the door. Her heaving chest made the swells of her breasts brush the door upon the height of her breath.
Unbeknownst to herself, she held her breath as her hand, shaky and dainty despite her strength, turned the door knob.
Walking into it to ease it open, her hand grasped the side of the door as she swung it fully open. Ever-so-slayerly, she swiftly swung her body around the door, and closed it without so much as a click behind her. As if there were anyone else in the house who may enter after her.
With the same slayer grace, she slipped over to the bed where Dawn's small heap of a body was curled into the fetal position under mounds of sheets. Only a small head, with lengths of brunette hair, poked out from the mass.
Buffy's lips curled at the sight, her sister's small body curled up innocently asleep, with the moon sending shadows of the window to her bed. A sight that normally wouldn't have sickened her.
"You might as well be wearing a fucking halo, you little bitch!" Buffy spat the whisper at 'Sleeping Beauty', all innocent and unknowing of the dangers standing above her bed, in the form of her own flesh and blood. In the form of her sworn protector.
Buffy tilted her head as she walked her fingers up Dawn's curves, to the edge of the sheets, just behind Dawn's head.
"Dawny" Buffy whispered in a sing-song voice, eyes still glazed. She slowly pulled back the covers, and could immediately feel waves of heat off her sister's tiny body.
Buffy took her own hands and waved them over her sister's curled body, and breathed in teeny-bopper dreams.
'Mmmm.' she remembered those. Before the warning nightmares, and vampires. Before she was jaded, jaded by vampires...
Her thoughts were interrupted by a small noise made from Dawn. Considering the goosebumps on her arms, it was undoubtedly from the sudden cool air on her skin.
Buffy didn't noticed. She was too enraged to care.
She halfed a smile and bent down close to Dawn's face, and softly kissed her cheek, a smile still on her lips. Dawn rolled over, fast asleep, to face Buffy.
For a moment, her sisterly-turned-motherly duties resurfaced in her mind, and she brushed a lock of hair from Dawn's face.
But that moment stood still in Buffy's mind amid speeding trains of thought of Spike, Anya, Xander, sex, vampires, Angel, sex, slaying, killing, death, Spike, sex, kill, Dawn, Spike, sex, kill, Dawn, kill Dawn, kill Dawn... Trains innevitably collided, and the thoughts of pure love for Dawn slipped Buffy's mind.
Then, as swiftly as Buffy had entered the room, she tore the pillow out from under Dawn's teeny-bopper dreaming, halo-covered head and pressed it into Dawn's face.
First an arm flailed, then eyes opened wide, and muffled, horrified screams emitted from under the pillow, calling her sister for help. Screams that somehow didn't reach Buffy's ears.
Dawn struggled, but not for long. "Always the fiesty one, Dawny. You always faught back, didn't you!" Buffy spoke harshly and clearly, pressing the pillow harder into Dawn's already purple face. Blood trickled from a broken nose.
Buffy didn't even break a sweat, or shed a tear, and always kept that glazed over look, much like that of her bot counterpart. Even as young Dawn's frail arm swung for an answer in the cold air in front of her, then eventually, fall limp.
"Look what he's done to me." Buffy stated monotonously, "Look what he made me do...look what he did to you...I love you Dawny..."
Buffy removed the blood stained pillow to reveal a wide-eyed, mouth agape, bloody nosed Dawn.
A dead Dawn.
"But you are nothing but the other woman. He uses you to get to me, you know." Buffy explained to her sister's corpse very matter-of-factly.
"The way he tells you bad stories, when he knows I'm right around the corner... No more, Dawny."
Buffy replaced the pillow under her sister's limp head, and pulled the sheets up to her chin.
"He won't be traipsing in here to chat up 'sweet little Dawny', no sir."
Buffy walked to the door, opened it and turned to face her sister once again. She backed out of the room, closing the door, but left it open a crack, to peek her head through.
"Goodnight, Dawny" she whispered, and closed the door silently behind her.
Setting: The night of the episode in which Anya and Spike slept together, and Spike told Xander about himself and Buffy.
******
'That bastard!' she thought, 'Thinks he can be in charge now? -ruin everything. God, I need to have sex! Not the way he screwed me over tonight- the way he used to screw me every night.'
She climbed the stairs in fury, yet silently. 'Used to...' she reminded herself.
'It must be tomorrow by now'.
'But this is what Angel and Riley would be here for. A good decent shag, with no consequences. Well, except for Ang- Oh great, now I'm picking up on his lingo?!'
'As if he has the right.'
She was at the top of the stairs now. Insane with hatred and- jealousy?
'Dawn...'
But what he had done didn't matter to her- did it?
'He thinks it's okay to fuck Bu- fuck up Buffy, then play nice with her innocent-yet-not-so-naive sister...'
Buffy scowled at Dawn's bedroom door, her hand clenching the top of the bannister. It was a glare that could have burned a hole straight through the door, had slayers possessed such powers.
Her heart started to beat faster than it did on her brisk walk home.
One foot scuffed in the direction of Dawn's door.
Eyes wide and lips pursed. She let go her grip on the rail.
"Dawn" -a whisper on her lips. She didn't expect a response. Dawn was long asleep.
Buffy's eyes were glazed over in hurt and fury, both from the occurances of that night, and the ones made up in her mind. And there was an aching in her empty abdomen that had grown ever since she had the foolish thought to say no to Spike- and go through with it.
Now she was right in front of the door. Her heaving chest made the swells of her breasts brush the door upon the height of her breath.
Unbeknownst to herself, she held her breath as her hand, shaky and dainty despite her strength, turned the door knob.
Walking into it to ease it open, her hand grasped the side of the door as she swung it fully open. Ever-so-slayerly, she swiftly swung her body around the door, and closed it without so much as a click behind her. As if there were anyone else in the house who may enter after her.
With the same slayer grace, she slipped over to the bed where Dawn's small heap of a body was curled into the fetal position under mounds of sheets. Only a small head, with lengths of brunette hair, poked out from the mass.
Buffy's lips curled at the sight, her sister's small body curled up innocently asleep, with the moon sending shadows of the window to her bed. A sight that normally wouldn't have sickened her.
"You might as well be wearing a fucking halo, you little bitch!" Buffy spat the whisper at 'Sleeping Beauty', all innocent and unknowing of the dangers standing above her bed, in the form of her own flesh and blood. In the form of her sworn protector.
Buffy tilted her head as she walked her fingers up Dawn's curves, to the edge of the sheets, just behind Dawn's head.
"Dawny" Buffy whispered in a sing-song voice, eyes still glazed. She slowly pulled back the covers, and could immediately feel waves of heat off her sister's tiny body.
Buffy took her own hands and waved them over her sister's curled body, and breathed in teeny-bopper dreams.
'Mmmm.' she remembered those. Before the warning nightmares, and vampires. Before she was jaded, jaded by vampires...
Her thoughts were interrupted by a small noise made from Dawn. Considering the goosebumps on her arms, it was undoubtedly from the sudden cool air on her skin.
Buffy didn't noticed. She was too enraged to care.
She halfed a smile and bent down close to Dawn's face, and softly kissed her cheek, a smile still on her lips. Dawn rolled over, fast asleep, to face Buffy.
For a moment, her sisterly-turned-motherly duties resurfaced in her mind, and she brushed a lock of hair from Dawn's face.
But that moment stood still in Buffy's mind amid speeding trains of thought of Spike, Anya, Xander, sex, vampires, Angel, sex, slaying, killing, death, Spike, sex, kill, Dawn, Spike, sex, kill, Dawn, kill Dawn, kill Dawn... Trains innevitably collided, and the thoughts of pure love for Dawn slipped Buffy's mind.
Then, as swiftly as Buffy had entered the room, she tore the pillow out from under Dawn's teeny-bopper dreaming, halo-covered head and pressed it into Dawn's face.
First an arm flailed, then eyes opened wide, and muffled, horrified screams emitted from under the pillow, calling her sister for help. Screams that somehow didn't reach Buffy's ears.
Dawn struggled, but not for long. "Always the fiesty one, Dawny. You always faught back, didn't you!" Buffy spoke harshly and clearly, pressing the pillow harder into Dawn's already purple face. Blood trickled from a broken nose.
Buffy didn't even break a sweat, or shed a tear, and always kept that glazed over look, much like that of her bot counterpart. Even as young Dawn's frail arm swung for an answer in the cold air in front of her, then eventually, fall limp.
"Look what he's done to me." Buffy stated monotonously, "Look what he made me do...look what he did to you...I love you Dawny..."
Buffy removed the blood stained pillow to reveal a wide-eyed, mouth agape, bloody nosed Dawn.
A dead Dawn.
"But you are nothing but the other woman. He uses you to get to me, you know." Buffy explained to her sister's corpse very matter-of-factly.
"The way he tells you bad stories, when he knows I'm right around the corner... No more, Dawny."
Buffy replaced the pillow under her sister's limp head, and pulled the sheets up to her chin.
"He won't be traipsing in here to chat up 'sweet little Dawny', no sir."
Buffy walked to the door, opened it and turned to face her sister once again. She backed out of the room, closing the door, but left it open a crack, to peek her head through.
"Goodnight, Dawny" she whispered, and closed the door silently behind her.