Only Her
Author: Echo the Insane PG
Summary: Just another morning in the life of Dawn Summers. One without Buffy. A season five oneshot, in Dawn's PoV.
Pairing(s): None
Category: Angst
Warnings: Spoilers up to season six.
I wake up every day and feel happy. This glow of life, of knowing what I have to look forward to makes my insides tingle. But it doesn't last. It never does. I lay in bed, more often than not, for long minutes after I've been awake, replaying memories that aren't even my own.
I remember when I was five, dressing up for Halloween as a little Witch, while my sister dressed up like a movie star whose name I can't remember now. I remember following along behind her, my hand in hers, feeling safe, with Mom on the other side, smiling at us both while we trick or treated. I can remember my eighth birthday, when Dad brought home a new TV for me, and how happy I was that he had come home from Japan or wherever his business had sent him. But I remember my sister's face, too. He had missed her last birthday. She had smiled though, and played brave, and no one noticed that she was hurt. It's always been like that.
But it wasn't. Because it wasn't real. I'm not real. I'm just some mystical key that opens dimensions and brings destruction and killed my sister. My strong, brave sister. She looked like an angel, all covered in light. Her arms were outstretched, like she was embracing the void. And I was frozen. I couldn't save my sister. I let her die, when it should have been me.
And all I could do then was remember memories that didn't belong to me. I remembered when Buffy snuck Angel into the house that night she found out he was a vampire. How she begged me not to tell mom when I walked into her room and found him there. And I didn't. I remember the first time I met Spike, when he crashed the Parent Teacher Conference at Buffy's high school. Mom couldn't find a baby-sitter, and I wanted to see what high school was like. I remember Buffy holding me, protecting me from Spike's little goons.
And then I remembered him flying, thrown off the tower with a wound in his side. I remembered screaming for him, knowing that he would die. But he was already dead, wasn't he? And my Sister is now too.
It's hard to wake up, to be happy and remember, only to remember that these memories aren't your own. That she died to save a person who isn't real. That she died and left me all alone. She's gone, and I'm still here.
So I lay in bed this morning, like all the ones before, and I wonder. I wonder, if these memories aren't my own, whose are they? I was made from her. Buffy. So they were hers, only changed and tweaked to suit me. So they are mine, like her old stereo became mine after she got a new one. They aren't mine, but I want them to be.
"Niblet? You up?"
And so arrives my sworn protector. Spike's been living here with the BuffyBot and me off and on since that night at the tower. I turn to watch the door creek open and there he is. I hate it when he looks at me like that. Half-smile, his eyes so very dull. "Morning."
"Morning Bit. You should be out of bed already. Got schoolin' to do."
"I know."
His weight presses on my bed, his hand cool against my forehead. He smiles again, the barest of twinkle glistening in those eyes for a moment. So I smile for him in return. He sighs softly, looking up from me to the wall, his expression blank. I'm not surprised when he starts to lean over, so I move just enough to give him room. We do this sometimes. He lies down next to me, and we both stare blankly at the ceiling. It's a comfort to us both.
Spike says my skin smells like Buffy's. That since her blood runs through my veins, I smell like her on a base level. I'll take it as a compliment. He used to say Buffy smelt nice. Now he can barely say her name.
I feel bold today. I turn on my side, abandoning the ceiling to look at him. He looks lost and sad and like a little boy to me. So I scoot a little closer. He turns and looks at me; his brow furrowed and eyes sparkling in confusion. I just smile, wrapping my arms around his waist and snuggling against him for a bit. I listen to the hollow sound of his chest, wondering what his heart had sounded like when he lived. I have a heartbeat, but am I really alive?
He wraps his arms around me, and feel him shutter. He's crying in my hair, his tears cool against my scalp. He doesn't want me to know, but how can I not? But I'll bite, I'll pretend not to notice, if it makes him feel better.
"I love you, Spike."
Silence, then his voice trembles. "I love you, too, Little Bit."
And suddenly it doesn't matter if the memories are mine or not. They make me happy, they make me sad, they make me laugh sometimes, too. But all in all, they make me feel. So now I know, that I am truly alive. We all are.
And one day, I'll be able to hold my sister's hand again, and feel her warmth wrap around me. One day, I'll be able to smile with her and Mom, and be free. But for now, I have other things to live for.
But one day, there will only be her.
A/N: I wrote this over two years ago, but I recently rediscovered it. Thought it might be a nice addition to my account. R&R please.