Chapter One-
+Hollow Disfiguration+
He's still in the house.
Buffy can hear his heavy footsteps sounding in the hallway. She can still smell the lingering whisky and cigarettes that had been on his breath. It chokes her, making her gag silently as she sits motionless in her bathroom. Each breath hurts her bleeding back. Though, she can and always will be able to take it.
She is the Slayer.
Her mind has shut down, there are no thoughts or emotion running through her body. As she sits motionless on her blood stained floor, she knows she must get out. She knows that he could come back again if she doesn't leave the close walled room. That he could trap her again. Pin her on the ground, with his heavy corpse crushing her fragile, aching body. She snaps out of her dead daze enough to know that she cannot not, under any circumstances, let that happen.
Not again…
Buffy's body shudders almost violently. Little by little, she raises to her feet, slipping in her own blood when she tries to walk. Her small, almost inaudible whimper seems to echo in her ears. She automatically freezes, afraid that he's heard her and will come back for more. When she knows he will stay away, she bounds for her room and locks the door, leaning back against it to breath a sigh of relief. But, a gasp of pain escapes her lips instead as her still fresh wounds touch the smooth wood. She can see herself in the mirror. Her robe is torn in many places. Dried blood stains it forever. The sight of herself takes her back to only mere moments before.
//His brutal mouth is crushing hers, bruising her.//
She closes her eyes. She can't replay it. She doesn't want to know it happened!
//"Let yourself feel it…" He whispers.//
She can't breathe, her throat blocked with a silent scream. Please, stop…
//His hands wander, hurting, violating, cold.//
A crash from below snaps her out of it. She jumps, scared he's coming. Scared he'll find her. That he'll break the lock on her door. She needs to get out of the house, get out of the closed in spaces where he can trap her. Panic makes her heart beat fast as she slips on new clothes. Dirty jeans and a sweat shirt, they're not easy to tear open.
Her hands shake as she walks down the stairs. He's standing in her kitchen. She can see the glowing light of his cigarette. They meet eyes. His are gleaming, satisfied, taunting her. Her are cloaked with panic and rage. In this moment, she knows that if h approaches her again, she will fight. She will scream, claw, and kill to survive.
He does nothing, except smile evilly. His white teeth gleaming in the dark room. He blows smoke out the side of his mouth. He licks his lips and eyes her up and down.
"Liked ya better in the robe. Easy access." Spike leers.
She wants to gag as she slowly backs out of the house, her gaze burning into his. She cannot take the chance of turning her back on him ever again. She let out a cross between a grunt of disgust and nervous whimper as she closes the door.
The rush of fresh air mixes with the smell of blood, whiskey, and stale cigarettes, making her dizzy and stumbled down the stairs. Buffy mind seems to go blank as she walks barefooted in the cool grass, not really feeling anything at this moment. All she's concentrating on is blocking it all out. The feel of his rough, cold hands on her skin. The sting of his sharp rings on her soft flesh. His lips kissing and his teeth biting, she doesn't want to think of it.
So, she thinks of nothing.
Alone, cold, and suffering in her own backyard.
She blocks it all out, for fear she will break.
*
The air was crisp and cold as Dawn walks down the street. Buffy was going to have a shit fit because she was an hour late. Janice had invited some boys over and she had totally lost track of time. Buffy had been a teen once, why couldn't she understand?
"Besides, it's not my fault that my sister sets a bogus curfew…" Dawn muttered to herself.
Dawn could defend herself, why couldn't her overprotective sister see that?
"Because she's the Slayer." Dawn answered herself. "It's her job to be overprotective."
Slightly amused with the fact that she was having a conversation with herself, Dawn rounded the corner and was in sight of her house. She saw Spike leave the house and saw him walk was a strut that she hadn't seen in years. She watched him as they neared each other. He carried a large bottle of whiskey and was smoking a cigarette, but it was the look on his face that made her wonder. His eyes gleam like ice in the street light, his lips frozen in a twisted smirk that made Dawn shiver. He didn't seem to notice her as he walked by. She caught a heavy whiff of booze coming from him and blood. She could smell the copper hint of blood on him.
Dawn's gut twisted in sick anxiety as she entered her home. All of the lights were off and it reeked of blood, booze, and smoke. Dawn set her purse on the chair and slowly walked around. There seemed to be no trace of Buffy anywhere. But, since Spike had been there, she must be there, somewhere.
"Buffy?" She called out, tentatively.
There was no answer to her call. She decided Buffy might be upstairs, hopefully. She walked into the upper hallway and looked around. Dawn got a strange feeling in her belly, like when you enter a murder scene. Something had happened. Dawn didn't know what, but something had definitely happened.
"Buffy?" Dawn called, louder this time. "Where are you?"
Her mind raced when, once again, she received no answer. Had something happened to Buffy? Was she hurt? She entered the bathroom and flicked on the light. She almost screamed when she saw dark red blood smearing the white tiled floor. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming so hard that it bled. The strong copper taste made her want to vomit.
"Oh God." She moaned softly.
Something outside moved and she looked out the window. She could see Buffy wandering around slowly down there. Dawn raced to the backyard, fear making her angry.
"What are you doing out here?" She demanded of her older sister.
It didn't even seem that Buffy had heard her. Her arms were folded, almost protectively, across her chest and she wasn't wearing shoes. Dawn thought she looked pale, but it might have been the moonlight.
"Buffy!" She yelled.
Still, no response.
"Damn it, answer me!" Dawn cried, grabbing her sister by the wrist.
Buffy gasped loudly, her eyes' flying to meet Dawn's, but it was like she wasn't seeing her.
*
Snapped put of her fogged daze, Buffy looked upon her attacker with rage, and fear. Her wrist throbbed with renewed hurt from the bruises. He had grabbed her wrist. Had pinned her down. Tore at her robe…
//"You're going to let me inside you…"//
Buffy pushed her assailant away from her and was surprised when she heard a feminine scream. Spike doesn't scream…she thought, Not like a girl.
Her vision cleared slightly and she saw it was her sister.
"Dawn…" She said slowly, as if seeing her for the first time.
*
"You're damn right it's me!" Dawn screamed, angry. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
Buffy blinked, looking around, saying nothing,
"Buffy!" Dawn yelled, snapping her fingers in front of her sisters face.
Buffy jumped, her eyes wide. "What…?" She asked.
"What's wrong with you?" Dawn asks, all anger gone.
*
Dawn really looks at her sister ad knows something is wrong. Her eyes are empty, yet scared. She's disoriented, but defensive. Her hair is a mess and Dawn is pretty sure that her face is bruising.
"The blood on the bathroom floor is yours, isn't it?" Dawn asked quietly and knew it was when Buffy's scared eyes met her. She seemed to be about to say something when a voice sounded out.
"Well, isn't this nice. Both sisters, sitting ducks."
*
Both girls look up and see Warren standing a few feet away, pointing a shotgun at them. Buffy looks dazed, still. Dawn is angry. Both are taking a stance of warning. Dawn gulps in nervousness as she sees the gun in Warren's hand. It doesn't seem real. Here's nothing they can do. Not again a weapon, a gun.
"Hmm. Interesting, isn't it? The Slayer and her sister, speechless, powerless. What's a man to do?" Warren mused.
As he talked on, his gun waved in the air. Dawn's heart jumped every time it was pointed to her. She quickly glanced at her sister to see what was the matter, why she wasn't kicking this computer geeks butt. She was staring at Warren, but she wasn't seeing him. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips quivering.
"Who to shoot first?" Warren seemed to be talking to himself. "The Slayer?" He mused. "Or, The Key?" He seemed to think as started walking toward them.
There were sticks scattered across the yard from a recent storm. And, as fate would have it, Warren tripped. He yelped as he fell, involuntarily tightening his finger against the trigger. It seemed to be in surreal slow motion. The blast from the gun seemed to echo in Dawns ears. She could see the bullet barreling towards Buffy. It would kill her if it hit her.
That couldn't happen.
Not again.
Buffy had to live!
Making a snap decision, Dawn pushed her elder sister out of the way, taking the full force of the bullet in the chest.
There was pain. And, then a strange numbness.
And then? Then there was nothing except peace.
*
Unbeknownst to Buffy as she fell to her sisters prone form, Warren's face was filled with horror as he watched the young girl bleed. He could see the shock in the Slayer's gaze. He knew it would soon be filled with murder and rage.
He had to get the hell out of there.
Now.
He ran, dropping the gun on the cold grass.
Buffy seemed to have a delayed reaction. In her minds eye, she was still feeling Dawn push her out of the way. In a rush, she saw the bullet pierce her sisters soft skin, smelt the blood pouring fro the wound, and heard her sisters' last breath. It wasn't like in the movies. There were no final, last love-filled words. There was just nothing. One moment, Dawn was breathing and screaming. The next, she was still and unmoving. Buffy dropped to her knees, frantically checking for a pulse. The fog that had covered her mind was gone. There was only hysteria, and an unyielding knowledge that she'd never see her sister in this world ever again, in her mind.
"No…!" Buffy murmured, feeling no pulse in her necks. "Dawn!" She cried, cradling her sisters body.
The blood was still warm and flowing. It soaked quickly through Buffy's sweatshirt, allowing her to feel the blood that belonged to both of them. She felt an emptiness in her, a bond being broken.
Dawn was gone.
A scream erupted from the mouth of the Slayer, a sound so primitive, so hollow, so raged that even the heavens seemed to cry.
TBC