Maybe, One Day
It's weird when you think about it. Your entire time as the Slayer, you always felt as if you could save anyone from anything. You like that feeling; it gives you power. It gives you courage. It makes you feel like you can go into anything and come out on top. It makes you, you.
But now, you're entering Dawn's school, your first destination is the principal's office. You didn't talk to Dawn enough to know her schedule; maybe it was your fault. Maybe you should try bonding. You don't feel like you will even if you silently promise yourself you will.
He gives his condolences and you leave then, walking through to silent halls, the bright cheery visitor pass obvious on your left breast. You fidget. It takes a while before you're sick of it and rip it off, balling it up and tossing it into a garbage can as you pass an open classroom.
You find the classroom. She's in art, and she's happy, smiling and laughing as she talks to a boy. He's kind of cute. And you're about to ruin her day. This makes you feel loads better about yourself now.
You finally gather the courage to enter the classroom, catching the teacher's attention. You don't tell her your mother was dead, or that you found her. No, you tell her that there's a family emergency and that you need to speak with Dawn. Because you don't want to see another look of pity from another person today.
You swallow as you begin to weave through the aisle, heading towards her. You catch a snippet of the conversation. "She had this book called Annals of History, and she didn't know how to say the word 'annals' so she kept saying-"
"Dawn." You figure now is as good a time as any to fuck over the day for your younger sister.
Dawn's still happy, and turns to you smiling. You don't return it and it drops like a hat. Pity though; it made her look beautiful. When she smiled.
"I have to talk to you." You already dread telling her, but you told Giles you would do it. And you would.
"Um…" Dawn doesn't want to talk to you. That's obvious. She might be scared of what you're going to tell her, or maybe of the class overhearing. But she can already tell it isn't good. You block that out.
"What?"
"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of a class." She says. You think it might be a little of both that's keeping Dawn from following you out the classroom.
"I know." You put a bit more strain in your voice and hopes she catches it. "Please come with me." She does, thank God.
She puts down the charcoal she'd been using and follows you out of the room. That dread is back, but you push it down. "I thought mom was picking me up." She says, still not knowing that mom won't be doing much of anything anymore. You almost wince at the crude thought.
"Let's go outside." You don't want to be in this building anymore. You don't want to do this with an audience that the huge windows of the art room give.
"No." Dawn's scared; her voice is shaking slightly. Just enough for you to notice. "Tell me what's going on."
"It's…bad…news."
"Well, what is it? What happened?" She asks, crossing her arm's over her chest, looking at you anxiously.
You're not paying attention anymore, but they're watching. That one girl, Lisa, the one friend of Dawn's that you actually like. As if sensing something is wrong with today, she walks forward, toward the window.
"It's bad." You say. So you do have tact. And here you thought all you had of it was taken away, like innocence, from seeing your mother's lifeless body on the couch an hour or so ago. Maybe that's why you thought you didn't have tact or sensitivity. "Please, can we-"
"Where's mom?" Dawn asks suddenly, loudly, her brain working, and figuring out that this most likely had to do with their mother.
You want to cry right then, you really do. For God's sake, your mother's dead. She's dead. "Mom ... had an accident. Or, um...something went ... wrong from the tumor."
Dawn's friend, that loyal one, she'd still walking towards the window. It's almost like seeing a car crash, just as it begins to happen. You don't warn the people near by. You can't do anything but watch.
You can see accurately how the tears in Dawn's eyes makes her eyes that much more blue. It's almost amazing.
"Is she okay? Is she ... but she's okay? But ... it's, it's serious, but..."
"Dawn..."
Giles is handling the more serious paperwork for you; you told him that you had to do this…but what is this? Is this watching Dawn figure out that her mother is gone, and that you're all she has left? Is this, ruining what had been a perfect day for her, turning her world upside down in a matter of minutes?
They slide down her face slowly. The tears. Her hand rises to her face, covering her mouth as she starts to cry. But even so, she doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to believe it. Even though she knows it true, she'd rather have a pretty lie. "No," falls from her lips, almost gently.
She backs away from you, not that you'd have been able to really comfort her anyway. You can't even let yourself go. Because you have to be strong.
"No, it's not true. No, you're a liar, she's fine!" she's screaming and you don't have the heart to stop her. Her voice has that ring to it. You know, that one when someone's about to break down and cry? Yeah, that's the one. Dawn has it just before you watch her crumple to the floor with a harsh sob, the sound being forced into your memory and making you almost sick.
They're still watching. They're watching as you try to pick up the pieces, kneeling down to her. Dawn is all you have left. So you hug her. You hold her to you with your arms about her and your own eyelids tickle with the fresh making of tears. You feel like you're going to cry…but it doesn't come.
"Let's…let's go home." You whisper to her. She doesn't move. So you let her go, leave her there. The class attempts to pretend to not have seen anything as you tell the teacher and gather Dawn's things. You try to ignore Lisa's concerned look as you leave the classroom. You pull Dawn to her feet and slowly guide her away from the audience you hadn't wanted in all of this.
You really want to cry though. Your mother just died today and you want to cry, but you can't. You can't because Dawn needs you to be the strong one. The adult. You can't let go, because then no one will be in charge. So you'll do it. You'll do the funeral preparations with Giles, and be the adult, only because you have to be.
Maybe, one day, you'll let yourself cry.