DARKEST
Part 2
By Annie Spoilers: Vague references to end of S6. Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all, no never. Rated: PG Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
DARKEST 2
I had to force myself to move before the wind picked up. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry - the mantra looped over and over in my head, as I scooped dust mindlessly, trying not to miss so much as a single precious grain. Fortunately, the dust was a different color from the bare earth it had fallen onto, but this was hard to see in the dark of the cemetery. Straining my eyes helped to keep the tears away. My vision kept blurring, though, with the unshed tears I had to hold back.
It was impossible. More than impossible - it was senseless. Something made me do it. No idea what. Some little memory teasing inside my numbed brain.
I couldn't carry the dust, so I tore the linings out of the pockets of my jeans and gently scraped the tiny remnants inside. I held the pocket- linings closed tightly as I hurried back to Revello Drive, hoping that I wouldn't run into any demons on the way. Fortunately, they must have all been hanging out at the cemetery.
Once safely inside the house, I slammed the door closed behind me and leaned against the wood, an image coming unbidden into my mind of myself, closing the door in Spike's face. He should have taken the hint, but by then it was already too late.
I started to shake, uncontrolled trembling taking over my body. I clutched the makeshift bags to my chest. Dawn came in from the kitchen just then, took one look at me and reached out to me.
"What is it, Buffy? What happened? What're these?" she asked in rapid succession, ready to grab the two little packages from my tight grip.
"Dawn," was all I could get out before the tears started to spill over onto my face.
"Spike," I managed finally, speaking with difficulty. "It's Spike."
It took a second for her to grasp the situation, the state I was in, the parcels I held so tightly. Then her eyes widened in horror and disbelief.
"Spike?!" she cried piteously. "Not Spike! Buffy.how? What did you do?"
"Accident," I mumbled, starting to move around her to head for the kitchen; had to find something, something to put him in.
"What do you mean, accident?' she shrieked at me, as only she could.
"Shut up, Dawn," I told her, trying to sound firm, but the shake in my voice was uncontrollable. "We have to find something. I can't keep him in these."
She stared at me, dumbfounded as I headed down the hall away from her. I don't know how my legs were carrying me anymore, I was starting to feel numb all over, it was like when Mom died and I found her. But somehow worse because this was my fault.
Dawn was following me, throwing question after question at me, until I tuned her out completely, looking through the cabinets for something that wouldn't be too ludicrous. Something to put him in.
My vision was blurring again, and I wanted to sit down on the floor and let it all out, all the guilt and grief, but I couldn't. Dawn had finally realized I wasn't going to say anything more until I found something, so she started to look, too, tears on her face, sniffling. She reached for a tissue and then suddenly ripped them all out of the box, handing the empty cardboard container to me grimly.
I almost reached for it, then shook my head, turning back to a cabinet in which I was making a mess. I grabbed a small leftovers container, one that had an airtight seal, and went to the counter. My hands were shaking.
"Tupperware?" Dawn squeaked at me softly.
"Can't take a chance of losing any," I told her grimly, as I concentrated on transferring the soft, precious grains into the small white container. I scraped softly at the bits of cloth to make sure they held nothing back, and then secured the lid, finally sinking onto a counter stool in helpless weariness.
Dawn sat across from me and finally burst into tears, her face in her hands. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I had none to give. I didn't even have any for myself. I stared across the room, the view of the wall opposite me gradually getting washed out as my unshed tears made their escape down my face.
There was something to do, I kept thinking to myself. Xander would help if I asked him, even unwillingly, but I was afraid to call and even mention what had happened. I knew there was no real love lost between Willow and Spike, but with what had happened after Tara died, she was so delicate, so on the edge of losing it most of the time, I was reluctant to drag them into it. Xander had Will staying at his apartment, keeping an eye on her. He was lonely anyway, since Anya refused to take him back, and Willow was lonely too. She could have stayed with Dawn and me, but Willow and Xander needed each other. Even if they couldn't see it, I could.
I could call Anya at the shop, she might know what to do, and she would probably help. Couldn't bring myself to even think about calling Giles. There was no way I was ready to explain to him why I was so upset Spike was gone. I wouldn't even really explain it to myself.
I think it was the connection from Giles to his discomfort with my other vampire relationship that snapped the mindlock on the little thing gnawing at the back of my brain. I never realized I spoke out loud until Dawn eased her distracted weeping.
"What?'" she asked, raising her wet face from her hands to look at me, empathy in her eyes as she saw the tracks of the tears I had shed myself. "What did you say?"
I blinked saltiness from my eyes, wiping at my face with my shaky hands.
"Darla," I repeated.
To be continued
By Annie Spoilers: Vague references to end of S6. Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all, no never. Rated: PG Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
DARKEST 2
I had to force myself to move before the wind picked up. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry - the mantra looped over and over in my head, as I scooped dust mindlessly, trying not to miss so much as a single precious grain. Fortunately, the dust was a different color from the bare earth it had fallen onto, but this was hard to see in the dark of the cemetery. Straining my eyes helped to keep the tears away. My vision kept blurring, though, with the unshed tears I had to hold back.
It was impossible. More than impossible - it was senseless. Something made me do it. No idea what. Some little memory teasing inside my numbed brain.
I couldn't carry the dust, so I tore the linings out of the pockets of my jeans and gently scraped the tiny remnants inside. I held the pocket- linings closed tightly as I hurried back to Revello Drive, hoping that I wouldn't run into any demons on the way. Fortunately, they must have all been hanging out at the cemetery.
Once safely inside the house, I slammed the door closed behind me and leaned against the wood, an image coming unbidden into my mind of myself, closing the door in Spike's face. He should have taken the hint, but by then it was already too late.
I started to shake, uncontrolled trembling taking over my body. I clutched the makeshift bags to my chest. Dawn came in from the kitchen just then, took one look at me and reached out to me.
"What is it, Buffy? What happened? What're these?" she asked in rapid succession, ready to grab the two little packages from my tight grip.
"Dawn," was all I could get out before the tears started to spill over onto my face.
"Spike," I managed finally, speaking with difficulty. "It's Spike."
It took a second for her to grasp the situation, the state I was in, the parcels I held so tightly. Then her eyes widened in horror and disbelief.
"Spike?!" she cried piteously. "Not Spike! Buffy.how? What did you do?"
"Accident," I mumbled, starting to move around her to head for the kitchen; had to find something, something to put him in.
"What do you mean, accident?' she shrieked at me, as only she could.
"Shut up, Dawn," I told her, trying to sound firm, but the shake in my voice was uncontrollable. "We have to find something. I can't keep him in these."
She stared at me, dumbfounded as I headed down the hall away from her. I don't know how my legs were carrying me anymore, I was starting to feel numb all over, it was like when Mom died and I found her. But somehow worse because this was my fault.
Dawn was following me, throwing question after question at me, until I tuned her out completely, looking through the cabinets for something that wouldn't be too ludicrous. Something to put him in.
My vision was blurring again, and I wanted to sit down on the floor and let it all out, all the guilt and grief, but I couldn't. Dawn had finally realized I wasn't going to say anything more until I found something, so she started to look, too, tears on her face, sniffling. She reached for a tissue and then suddenly ripped them all out of the box, handing the empty cardboard container to me grimly.
I almost reached for it, then shook my head, turning back to a cabinet in which I was making a mess. I grabbed a small leftovers container, one that had an airtight seal, and went to the counter. My hands were shaking.
"Tupperware?" Dawn squeaked at me softly.
"Can't take a chance of losing any," I told her grimly, as I concentrated on transferring the soft, precious grains into the small white container. I scraped softly at the bits of cloth to make sure they held nothing back, and then secured the lid, finally sinking onto a counter stool in helpless weariness.
Dawn sat across from me and finally burst into tears, her face in her hands. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I had none to give. I didn't even have any for myself. I stared across the room, the view of the wall opposite me gradually getting washed out as my unshed tears made their escape down my face.
There was something to do, I kept thinking to myself. Xander would help if I asked him, even unwillingly, but I was afraid to call and even mention what had happened. I knew there was no real love lost between Willow and Spike, but with what had happened after Tara died, she was so delicate, so on the edge of losing it most of the time, I was reluctant to drag them into it. Xander had Will staying at his apartment, keeping an eye on her. He was lonely anyway, since Anya refused to take him back, and Willow was lonely too. She could have stayed with Dawn and me, but Willow and Xander needed each other. Even if they couldn't see it, I could.
I could call Anya at the shop, she might know what to do, and she would probably help. Couldn't bring myself to even think about calling Giles. There was no way I was ready to explain to him why I was so upset Spike was gone. I wouldn't even really explain it to myself.
I think it was the connection from Giles to his discomfort with my other vampire relationship that snapped the mindlock on the little thing gnawing at the back of my brain. I never realized I spoke out loud until Dawn eased her distracted weeping.
"What?'" she asked, raising her wet face from her hands to look at me, empathy in her eyes as she saw the tracks of the tears I had shed myself. "What did you say?"
I blinked saltiness from my eyes, wiping at my face with my shaky hands.
"Darla," I repeated.
To be continued