CRADLE
Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.
A/N: Believe it or not, I've actually figured out something resembling a plot for this thing. And, not only that, I've even figured out what the 'monster-of-the-week' is going to be, although that might be a vast overstatement. Anyhoo, this chapter sees yet more angst for the Scoobies. Sorry. Keep the reviews rolling in, please :D
Cradle
Chapter Five
Sitting quietly in the passenger seat of Giles' car, Dawn stared out of the window. They'd passed the cemetery a few minutes ago, and, despite Giles' best efforts to distract her, it had sent her instantly into moping-ville over a certain un-dead, and currently missing, friend of hers. For all outward appearances, she was happy enough; having Giles back helped immensely. She was enthusiastic in her new found 'talent' for fighting, and was glad that school was very nearly over so she could spend her summer attempting to convince Buffy to let her train, but, what with Willow's rehabilitation, Xander and Anya's messed up love life, and trying not to remember finding Tara… Dawn's happy was wearing thin.
She missed Spike. A lot. She missed going to his crypt and just hanging out, watching television, or having him tell her a story; she missed the rebellious thrill of visiting him when Buffy didn't know about it. For some bizarre, insane reason, he was the only one who understood her, and he didn't treat her like a child. At least, not unless he really had to, and even then he'd usually apologise for it. By some strange twist of Fate, the youngest of the Scoobies had found her best friend in the eldest.
Dawn had considered going to the crypt just for comfort, just to be there. In fact, she'd taken his duster along with her – she was going to leave it there for him to find when he came back. 'When'. Not 'if'. Halfway there, she'd remembered that Clem was still looking after the place, and the thought of the overly cheerful and eager demon was too much for her, so she'd headed back home, wearing the too-long duster with it dragging on the floor behind her.
The long leather coat had been residing on the back of her bedroom door since Spike's disappearance. Buffy didn't know about it yet, and Dawn wasn't quite prepared to tell her. She'd either be mad, or – and this was becoming more and more likely – take the thing for herself. Dawn had whole-heartedly accepted that Spike had gone, and that she missed him like crazy, and that at the same time she was ready to pound him for what he'd done – nearly done – to Buffy. Her sister, on the other hand, was adamant that she didn't miss him in the slightest and he could go to Hell for all she cared… at least, that's what she was telling herself. Dawn could tell Buffy missed him, too. And she'd also seemingly forgiven him; at the very least, she hadn't mentioned the Incident since.
Dawn's reverie was broken by Giles tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "We're back."
"Huh?" She looked up and brought herself back to reality. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Just kinda zoned out, there…" Not wanting to pursue the matter, she opened the car door and headed for the house, Giles behind her. As she entered, Xander called a greeting from his new position on the couch, and Buffy was just coming down the stairs, showered and changed for their meal.
"Hey, you two," she said. "How was school, Dawn?"
"The usual. Trying not to blow up the school, trying not to saw the tables in half, trying not to vomit…"
"Lemme guess," said Xander, "you had… chemistry, woodshop, and biology?"
"Close," she corrected. "Chemistry, shop, and lunch…" Turning to her sister, she added, "Buffy, please can I take a lunch bag tomorrow?"
Buffy smiled. "Yeah. Get Xander to do it; he's great with sandwiches." Before either of them could comment, she changed the subject. "Now, go get changed. I'm starving."
Dawn obediently headed towards the stairs, and Giles moved to sit down while he waited for them, but they both stopped when they saw Willow coming down. She'd also showered, and put on minimal makeup, and looked brighter than she had in a long time. She smiled weakly at the assembled people in the lounge.
"Hey…"
"Willow, you're coming with us?" asked Dawn, excitedly.
"Yup."
"That's so great!"
"Indeed," added Giles with a smile, very glad to see her up and about. A hearty meal would do everyone good, especially Willow. Without warning, Dawn flung her arms around the redhead's neck, taking her by surprise. After the initial shock had worn off, Willow tentatively hugged her back. This seemed to set off a chain reaction – first Buffy, and then Xander, went over and joined in the hug, Willow's arms stretching to the limit to embrace her three friends. Finally, to everyone's surprise, Giles wandered over cautiously and wrapped his arms around the four of them. After some rearrangement, several arms went around him, too, and Willow ended up in the middle.
Eventually, her speech rather muffled, she said, "Breathing… becoming an issue…"
The group systematically released each other with mutters of "Sorry" and "Stupid Slayer strength…" Giles immediately removed his glasses and cleaned them, looking quite embarrassed. Willow looked from person to person, the smallest trace of tears visible on her face. Struggling to keep her composure, she said, "Thank you. All of you. Everything's so difficult, but… I know you're all gonna be here for me. Just like always." She sniffed, and choked back an emotional sob. "I love you all, so much. No matter what happens, I promise I'm going to try and get better…" Swallowing again, she added. "I know… I know that's what… Tara… would have wanted me to do…"
As her sentence trailed off into emptiness, everyone wore varying expressions of support, from smiles to mere determination. It was Dawn who broke the silence. "Wow. All this love flying around and I'm still not changed. Back in a sec." She ran up the stairs, and re-emerged in record Dawn-time in a different, smarter outfit. Once she was down again, the group filed out to Giles' car and piled in.
Dawn, being the youngest and therefore having priority over such things, nabbed the front seat immediately, while Buffy, Willow and Xander squeezed into the back. Content that everyone was in and belted up, Giles set off.
One hour later…
Anya had finally decided to go home. She was walking, despite the fact that teleporting would have been quicker and easier. It had stopped raining, but her mood hadn't brightened any. Contemplating the empty apartment that would greet her on her return was almost as depressing as staring at the remains of her magic shop.
She hadn't seen Giles or Buffy since Willow's rampage; she assumed the ex-Wiccan's plight was currently more important than her own, to them at least. She thought she should probably associate herself with her friends again, but the time apart had given everyone time to think. Facing Xander was difficult enough, with his words ringing in her memory – 'I look at you… and I feel sick…' – but facing Buffy would be worse. It was obvious she had been hurt by Anya's actions, even though she hadn't mentioned anything. Anya wasn't sure she could talk to Willow right now – she understood the destruction of the Magic Box hadn't been entirely her fault, but nevertheless, Anya wasn't happy about it. She knew she'd accidentally end up upsetting her over something trivial, as usual, and since there was some of the dark magic still inside her, as well as floating around somewhere needing to be harnessed, Anya didn't want to risk anything.
The only person Anya really wanted – and needed – to talk to was Giles, and he was saying at Buffy's for the time being. In fact, she suspected Xander was, as well, to help look after Willow. She hadn't seen Spike - not that she cared much – since… that night. She assumed, however, that he was probably hanging around Buffy's place, too.
Buffy, again, had become Miss Popular, leader of the group and all-round wonderful individual. Anya was beginning to feel very left out, even though it was partially her own fault. But still, it wouldn't hurt for her friends to see her once in a while, Xander excepted for the moment. She'd suffered a tragic loss, too, hadn't she? She helped to save the world as much as everyone else. So why did it feel like all of her problems of the year were of no concern to anyone any more?
She rounded a corner with a heavy sigh, walking the last leg of her journey home. As she passed a restaurant, something compelled her to look through the window. She began to wish she'd ignored the instinct. At the back, around a large, circular table, sat her five friends. They were all tucking into various meals, obviously courtesy of Giles. It hurt that nobody had thought to invite her. Well, fine, she would just invite herself.
She was just about to enter the restaurant and head over to their table, when she stopped, engrossed in watching them. Giles, sitting between Buffy and Dawn and looking very much like the metaphorical father figure, was smiling and laughing with them. The elder sister punched him playfully on the arm for something he'd said, causing him to wince, and then apologised. He brushed off her concern with a wave of his hand, rubbed his arm slightly, and ruffled her hair affectionately. At Dawn's perturbed expression, he did the same to her, and put an arm around each of them, giving them a quick cuddle each. On the other side of the table, Willow smiled at them as she nibbled experimentally at a chicken leg. She put it down and reached for a drink, but was stopped in her track by Xander, who picked up a napkin and attended to a ketchup stain on her left cheek.
The whole group seemed very happy, and so hideously familial that Anya felt a stab of jealousy. Giles had used to include her in his affections. It had used to be her cheek Xander would clear ketchup from. Not that she was messy enough to get ketchup on her cheek, of course, but it was the principal of the thing. She fought back a sob, brushed the tears from her eyes, and turned away. Her brisk, outwardly irritated walk soon broke into a run, and she fled the rest of the way home. She knew, then, that she'd never be a part of their group again…
To be continued…
Aww. Poor Anya… (Amazingly, I don't hate her. For some reason, she just tapped me on the shoulder and say "Hey, here's an idea: make me lonely!". *shrug* Muses. Can't live with 'em, can't write without 'em. Next chapter will see some S/B fluff, at long last. Keep reviewing!
