Behold the suffering unspeakable in death
And the abominations of the earth;
Its desolation turns,
And now there is no life in her ...

- Behold A Pale Horse, Saviour Machine

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It all seemed so empty. So trivial. Vapid little school children played at being adults while death and horror lay in wait just around the corner. A group of giggling stoners was smoking in the bushes. Three jocks went by, laughing too loudly over some rude joke told by one of their number. A nerd walked alone through the halls, surrounded by strangers. Buffy Summers, disheveled and distressed, walked through the school hallway in a daze.

There had been no change in Dawn's condition. Almost a day now had passed since the spell had been cast to put her in a kind of magical stasis, and they had nothing whatever to show for it. No new leads, no clues, no prophecies. Angel hadn't returned yet. Giles had, and in a foul mood. Briefly, Buffy wondered what his problem was, but did not have the energy to continue the line of thought. Though the spell had bought them a short reprieve, Dawn was still dying, and now, for the first time, Buffy was beginning to doubt that they would be able to save her.

Buffy went on like that for most of the day, sleepwalking through her classes, going through the motions but not investing any of her self into her activities. She'd wanted to stay home from school entirely, but her mother wouldn't hear of it. Even with Dawn's life in the balance, the rest of the world went on.

She hated it for that, a little bit.

"Hey Buffy," Cordelia said as she rounded the corner, with a gaggle of Cordettes in tow. Buffy felt more than she saw Cordy sizing her up. A slight smile graced the girl's lips as she took in Buffy's disheveled appearance, and her tone turned mean. "This is a new look for you. Oh wait, it isn't. Let me guess, you're channeling your inner street urchin again?"

Anger rose up within her, and Buffy directed a withering glare at Cordelia; not simply a nasty look, but a look of pure, deadly fury. She struck back at Cordy with the most effective weapon that she had in her arsenal: the pure, unvarnished truth. "Cordelia," she said, her voice a hollow, dead thing, "Right now, my sister is lying in a hospital bed, dying."

Cordelia reacted as if struck, and the Cordettes exchanged guilty looks. Horrified, Cordelia spoke again, this time in a much softer, apologetic voice. "I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't," Buffy said dismissively, "Why would you pay attention to anyone that wasn't yourself?" And then she turned and walked away, heading down the hall towards her last class of the day, leaving Cordelia standing there in the hallway, shocked and horrified.

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Blue Dawn
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer YAHF
by P.H. Wise

Part 5 – Rebirth, Part 2

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is Joss Whedon's baby, and belongs to Mutant Enemy. I am not Joss Whedon. No copyright infringement is intended; please don't sue me. I'm not making any money off of this.

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Dawn Summers awoke to the breeze fluttering through the curtains, and afternoon sunlight on her face. For a few minutes she just lay there, taking in the feeling of the cool breeze and warm sunlight like the embrace of an old friend. At last, she opened her eyes, and was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. A hospital room. She grimaced. She might not hate hospitals like Buffy did, but nobody liked to wake up in one.

She sat up and glanced about. Xander lay asleep with his face planted sideways on a table in the corner of the room, a pile of books gathered around him. One of his eyes was covered with a large bandage. There were other chairs at the table, but Xander was alone, and there was a lingering smell of... Dawn frowned. She wasn't sure why, but the smell reminded her of a mixture of fear, fading hope, and growing despair. Why would a smell remind her of that? It was a vaguely nauseating smell besides... no. She had to be imagining things. Grimacing, she tugged the IV out of her arm and climbed out of bed. A sudden draft reminded her that she was clad in naught but a hospital gown; Dawn shivered and glanced about for something suitable to wear. There. On the chair by the bed, some clothing had been laid out, and folded so neatly that it could only have been her mother who had done it. She didn't recognize the outfit. She checked the tags and frowned. It was several sizes too big for her. Still, it was better than nothing. She pulled the privacy curtain closed around her bed and quickly dressed herself; much to her surprise, the clothes fit quite well. Her body was... fear grew within her. That had been a dream, hadn't it? ... Hadn't it?

Dawn opened the privacy curtain, smiled fondly at the sleeping Xander, and then left, saying not a word.

She barely made it out of the hospital before she started sweating intensely. She caught a view of her reflection in the glass doors as she left the building. The sight nearly broke her: her twelve year old self was long gone. Entire years of her life had been stolen. The face that looked back at her in the reflective doors was the face of a twenty-something. She might have been beautiful in other circumstances, but now she was ill and she looked it. She was sweating visibly, her face was pale, her skin blotchy, and streaks of strange blue pigmentation ran across her skin. And for all the awful that she looked, she felt worse.

Dawn left the hospital, following the westering sun.

She walked aimlessly for a time, not caring where she went as long as it took her away from the reality of her situation. What she wanted was an escape, but there was none to be had. Her head throbbed, and the stench of human emotions was thick around her. Why hadn't she ever noticed that smell before? Ugh. It made her want to vomit.

At last, Dawn found herself in a small park, her feet striking beads of water off the grass as she went. It wasn't morning, but the grass had recently been watered. The cool, wet grass felt good against her feet, and the heat of the mid-day sun warmed the rest of her in pleasant contrast. She walked on until she found herself beneath a grand old oak, leaf bladed, gnarled and many-limbed. She let herself fall over backwards, and the grass cushioned her fall. There, in the shade of the tree, she stared up at the leaves swaying in the breeze against the clear blue sky, and felt a horrible sense of loss mixed with longing.

"Am I really going to lose all this?" she asked the sky. "Is this really happening?"

The sky did not answer, and the distant buzz of many-winged things floated on the breeze. A dragonfly flew overhead, and she watched it pass. Life went on. Her head throbbed, and life went on. It was as beautiful a day as she had ever seen; it was a lazy day; a day for napping in the shade, lulled to slumber by the smell of trees, by the gentle breeze, and warm sun, and buzzing wings.

She dozed off.

Some time later, a shadow passed over her, and she opened her eyes. Buffy was standing over her, smiling sadly.

Dawn smiled.

"You gave us all a big scare, Dawnie," Buffy said, but she wasn't angry.

"I know," Dawn said, sounding terribly, terribly old. "Do you ever wonder what it's like to die, Buffy?" she asked.

Buffy didn't answer.

"I've been thinking about that a lot, lately. Do you think it hurts?"

"No," Buffy said, her voice a near whisper, "I don't think it hurts."

"I think it might be like being born. It hurts worse and worse, and then you're out. I feel like I'm being born..." Dawn met Buffy's gaze. "Your fear is really rank."

Buffy looked nonplused. After a moment, she shook her head. "You're not going to die, Dawn. We might have something. Miss Calendar thinks she might have found a spell that can exorcise the thing that's inside you..."

"Illyria," Dawn said. "Her name is Illyria."

"... Illyria, right," Buffy replied. Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"

"It was on the costume," Dawn said dismissively," But besides that, she told me."

"Who?"

"The other girl. Fred."

Now growing truly afraid for her sister, Buffy reached down to lift Dawn back onto her feet. "Come on, Dawn. We have to get back to the hospital. Willow and Miss Calendar are going to cast their spell, and everything's going to be OK."

With Buffy's help, Dawn rose to her feet. She smiled beatifically. "I love you, Buffy," she said. Then her vision went dark, she collapsed in Buffy's arms, and it was night.

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Buffy carried Dawn back to the hospital as quickly as she was able, and many people she passed shook their heads and convinced themselves that what they'd just seen couldn't possibly have been real. Young women cannot outrun cars – not even in a 25 MPH zone. Angel was there waiting for her at the entrance to the hospital. He took Dawn from her arms and carried her the rest of the way up to her room, and as they went, he spoke. He told Buffy of what had transpired. Of their abandonment by the Powers, and of the Powers' true nature.

Buffy clenched her fist so hard that it began to bleed.

"I think I have an idea. Something that could save her. She'll be changed, but she'll still be Dawn. You won't like it, though.""

"I'm listening," Buffy replied. They entered the elevator, and she pushed the button for their floor.

"I turn her. Drain her, and then sire her as a vampire."

Buffy's jaw dropped open and she stared at Angel disbelievingly. "How can you even suggest that?" she asked, growing furious very quickly, and now tempted to snatch her sister back from Angel's arms.

Angel shook his head. "I wouldn't suggest it if I thought there was any other way to save her. But the gypsies cursed me with a soul. They could probably do the same for her. And then she'd be Dawn, just..."

"On a blood diet and strictly a night person?"

Angel nodded. "It should work, but it's your decision."

They reached their floor, and carried Dawn out of the elevator. Buffy shook her head. "I'm not going to even consider that kind of option when we've got another choice..."

Angel nodded, and together, they entered the hospital room.

--------------------

Dawn woke up an hour after her return to the hospital, and smiled weakly at her Mom's tear streaked face. "Hi Mom," she whispered.

Joyce smiled, and she and her daughter began the last talk that they would ever have. The whole gang was back, Buffy, Mom, Giles, Willow, Xander, even Miss Calendar. A magic circle had been drawn around the bed, and the room was lit with candles. Their preparations were nearly complete.

Even as Joyce and Dawn spoke to one another, Cordelia walked into the room, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Buffy looked up in surprise as the other girl entered. "Cordelia?" she asked.

"Hi Buffy," Cordelia replied, smiling nervously. "I brought some flowers for your sister," she held up a little card, "And a get well card. I wanted to apologize for what I said..."

Buffy smiled, took the flowers and the card, and placed them on Dawn's bed-stand. She opened her mouth to say something – perhaps to thank Cordelia – but at that moment, the monitors that Dawn was connected to began to beep wildly.

Dawn shuddered, visibly tensing. "Oh God," she muttered, "It's starting. She's almost..." she stopped talking abruptly, and her body began to convulse as though in the throes of a seizure.

"Giles!" Buffy yelled, "We have to do this now!"

Giles looked to Miss Calendar and Willow. "Jenny? Are we ready?"

Jenny nodded. "It's now or never," she said. Each holding a candle, they two began to chant.

Drawn by the wildly fluctuating vital signs, two nurses and a doctor rushed into the room and stopped short as they took in the scene. "What the hell is going on here?" one of them demanded.

Xander and Giles strode forward and intercepted them, pushing them back to the door.

"What are you... that girl is dying! What are you doing? We have to get to her!"

Willow and Jenny continued chanting, and the temperature reading on one of the monitors rose dramatically. Dawn was sweating horribly, and Joyce put a hand to her forehead.

"She's burning up," Joyce whispered. "Hold on. Hold on, Dawn."

Dawn's internal organs began to liquefy. First the appendix, and then one of the kidneys. The second kidney went. Then more... and more... veins visibly collapsed beneath her skin, and the blue pigmentation began to spread across her body in large swaths.

A red light sprang up around Willow and Jenny as they continued their spell, power gathering around them. The Doctors were no longer struggling to get in now, but simply stared with wide eyes and dropped jaws. Jenny and Willow chanted in Latin, their words imploring aid from the primal forces of the universe; the glow around them intensified.

Dawn's body began to emit a crystalline blue light.

"Giles! What's happening?"

Giles had no reply.

The crystalline blue light surged out from Dawn's body like a leaping predator. Willow and Jenny stopped chanting and threw up their arms to shield themselves, and everyone stared in shock. Everyone, that is, except for Cordelia, who, reacting without thinking, darted forward and shoved Willow out of the way. Cordelia and Jenny were utterly enveloped by the terrible crystalline blue aura, and they began to shriek horrible shrieks of agony. And then they began to change. Streaks of blue shot through Cordelia's hair, and then through Jenny's, and swaths of blue pigmentation spread across their skin...

Dawn's eyes opened, and they shone a solid green. "NO!" she screamed desperately, and her body gave off a burst of pure, bright green light, shattering the blue aura around Jenny and Cordelia into a million luminescent shards that were long in fading.

Giles rushed to Jenny's side, and Xander to Cordy's. They were alive.

"Jenny?" Giles asked.

She looked up at him. "Rupert," she whispered. "It hurts."

His breath caught in his throat. Her eyes had changed; they were a frozen sort of crystalline blue. Giles wrapped her up in an intense embrace, and Jenny began to sob.

"Buffy!" Angel said warningly.

Buffy looked at Dawn, watching as her transformation continued unchallenged. This was it, then. Their last chance. She met Angel's gaze and nodded. "Do it."

Angel was at Dawn's side in an instant, leaning down, putting his mouth against her neck.

He bit down.

Immediately, Angel gagged and pulled away. A black ichor was leaking from her neck. He looked to Buffy, but she only stared, wide-eyed. He was unsure of what to do for an instant, and then a determined look settled onto his face. She was already at the point of death. All he had to do was introduce vampiric blood into her system. He cut open his own wrist and pressed it to Dawn's lips.

She began to drink.

For a moment, it looked as though it was going to work. Vampiric power did battle with the essence of the old one within her, and for a moment, there was hope.

Then Dawn convulsed violently, striking Angel in the chest. Angel went flying across the room and crashed into the table, shattering it.

Dawn opened her eyes and looked to her horrified mother and sister. "I didn't even get a chance to be real," she whispered, and her voice was filled with regret. "I love y..." again she convulsed, and screamed, and then lay still, dead. Her eyes seemed to freeze over, and she drew breath.

"Dawn?" Buffy asked, just daring to hope.

Joyce stared at the thing that used to be her daughter, her eyes wide.

"Dawn?" Buffy asked again.

Illyria sat up "YOU!" she said, staring at her new body in the mirror on the far wall, surprise evident in her tone. "You were hiding in this mortal carcass?" She opened her hand, and a large, bright sphere of beautiful green energy appeared above it, pulsing with life. Illyria listened as the sphere pulsed. "Glorificus?" she sneered, "A mewling worm no better than the wretched slime that spawned her." Illyria looked to the assembled humans, and briefly her imperious gaze fell upon those who had been partially corrupted by her power. "So be it," she intoned, and closed her fist around the sphere of green light. The sphere winked out, and a green glow suffused Illyria's body before fading away slowly

"Dawnie?" Buffy asked a third time, feeling a sick sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"That's not Dawn," Xander said, his expression filled with horror.

Funny thing about death. Everyone denies it. Nobody really believes that it will happen to them. Not me, surely not me. We all try to fight it. Some risk their souls to stave it off. Some finally accept it as inevitable, and some linger on until old age and infirmity have robbed them of the very things that make their lives worth living. For Dawn Summers, death had come, and nothing anyone could do would stop it. The shockwaves of that death spread forward through the timeline, infecting the entity that had once been Dawn Summers with Illyria, from the moment of Illyria's awakening within the shadow that Dawn cast through history all the way into the far distant future, and onwards into the past through The Key. Paradox roiled about the very fabric of Space/Time, and entire futures were obliterated in an instant.

Death had claimed Dawn Summers. Death, and worse.

Illyria rose to her feet, and strode imperiously out of the hospital room, and there was silence in Heaven.

END PART FIVE