Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, I've been editing "Something", and kind of forgot about this one. I'm actually starting to think that "Something" is pretty good.

Story Title: Reality.

Story Summary: Dawn discovers what - and who - the Key really is.


Reality

.

Dawn and Spike sat inside the Magic Box, the lights turned out, reading from Giles' handwritten journal by candlelight. It was the journal that Dawn had noticed earlier, the one that Giles had been concealing from her. There was something important that Buffy kept not telling her, and Dawn was going to figure out what it was.

"Where did he learn to write so bloody small?" Spike muttered around a cigarette. "From a fruit fly?"

Dawn perused the page of the journal. "Wait, here's something. Uh, 'Tarnis, 12th century. One of the founders of the monks of the order of Dagon.'"

Spike got up from the floor, taking another puff on his cigarette and wandering around the Magic Box as Dawn kept reading.

"'Their sole purpose seems to have been as protectors of the Key'," Dawn read.

Spike gave a laugh. "Brown robe types are always protecting something," he said, studying a ritual Hindi statue. "It's the only way they can justify giving up girls." He turned around, his eyes landing on something. "Hey! Troll hammer!" He tried to jerk it up, but overbalanced, and it came crashing to the floor with a loud clang.

Dawn glanced back at Spike, who let the hammer fall.

"Didn't go with my stuff, anyways," he muttered.

Dawn turned back to the journal. "'The Key from our universe is not directly described in any known literature'," she read, "'but all research indicates an energy matrix vibrating at a dimensional frequency beyond normal human perception. Only those outside reality can see the Key's true nature.'" She glanced up at Spike, who'd made his way back over to her. "Outside reality? What's that mean?"

Spike took another puff on his cigarette. "Second sight blokes, mostly." He put the cigarette out on one of the shelves, and went over to sit beside Dawn once more. "Or just your run-of-the-mill lunatics."

Dawn had a sudden feeling of unease settle through her, as she remembered all the crazy people that had come up to her, recently, telling her that she didn't belong, that they could see her, that they knew what she was. She pushed the thought aside.

"What else does it say about this… Key?" Spike asked, looking at an item he'd picked up from the display case beside him. "Is it made out of gold? Maybe we can hawk it. Split the take."

Dawn looked down at the book, again, and continued reading. "Um, the Key is also susceptible to necromanced animal detection, particularly those of canine or serpent construct."

And again, that feeling of unease, as she remembered that weird enchanted snake that had burst into the Magic Box, slithering across the ground until it found… her.

Dawn just stared ahead, without any power or strength to go on. The thoughts were whirling around in her mind, all gathering in a cloud that she just couldn't stop from consuming her.

"I can't even look at you," the Doctor had shouted at her. "I can't even see you without thinking of everything I've lost. You're the worst thing that's ever come into my life…"

The way he'd asked her — begged her — to hate him.

The way he'd looked at her, that first time he saw her, as if his entire world had just come apart, as if he were lonely, so very, very lonely, and nobody could ever lift it from him.

The way that Buffy had grabbed the Doctor and dragged him into the TARDIS, murder in her eyes.

"What have I done?" the Doctor had asked, just after he'd saved Dawn's life — like he'd done the worst thing in the world.

Spike took the journal from her, examining it with a frown of concentration. "'The monks possessed the ability to transform energy, bend reality'," Spike read. His eyebrows arched. "Blah, blah, blah!" He dropped the journal. "Good Lord, Giles writes as dull as he talks, doesn't he?"

Dawn said nothing.

"You… have a sister."

Spike picked up the journal, and started reading again. "They started work," Spike continued to read, "but the Council has suggested to us that they were interrupted. Presumably by… Glory. They obviously did manage to accomplish the taste…" Spike squinted. "Accomplish the task," he corrected. "They had to make sure that the Slayer would protect it with her life, so they sent the Key to her in human form."

Dawn could barely breathe.

"In the form of a sister."


Dawn just couldn't come to terms with it. Couldn't understand. Couldn't make sense of it. Was she real? Was she nothing? Her whole life, was that all just a lie? Every single memory she had, every single thing she owned — they didn't exist, none of it was supposed to exist!

She wasn't supposed to exist!

And they'd all lied to her. Every single one of them. They'd lied to her over and over again, like they didn't even care! Her mom… Buffy… everyone. Not telling her… that her whole life was a lie. That she'd only been alive for six months. That she was nothing, nothing but a key, just… Excalibur! Some stupid sword! That was what she was! She was nothing more than a stupid sword from a stupid Arthurian Legend.

Whatever this Excalibur thing is, it's bad. I'm talking seriously bad. Worse than killing off two-thirds of the world bad.

And it was her. She was just this… thing. This stupid thing that could destroy tons of stuff and make the universe fall apart and everything! And… why hadn't they told her? Why hadn't they said anything? Why did they not care about her at all?

She felt real! Everything she'd ever done, all the things that had happened to her… it all seemed real!

But it wasn't! None of it! None of it at all!

She wasn't a person! She wasn't anything! She didn't even exist!

Dawn walked through the park by her house, staring at the swings, at the grass, at all the places she remembered. But… the things she remembered… they didn't happen. None of them ever happened.

Nothing.

She stalked off, down the street, letting the tears stream down her cheeks, not caring who saw her or what happened, or what was going on. None of it mattered, anyways. None of it was real. None of it was anything.

She wasn't anything.

"Dawn?"

Dawn's head snapped up. There, just in front of her, stood a skinny man in a pinstripe suit, looking at her with that stupid pretend sympathy that he always had, like she was actually something real and worthwhile and normal. Like she was a person.

She turned around, and walked the other direction.

"Dawn Summers," the Doctor called after her, in his low, steady, calm voice.

Dawn stopped in place, her eyes fixed straight ahead, her jaw set. "Get away from me."

And if it had been anyone else — her sister or her mother or Willow or Xander or Giles — they'd have shouted, run after her, told her to stop and listen to them, started telling her so many platitudes and stupid lies about how they loved her and she was real and all sorts of things that were just… nothing! Nothing at all!

The Doctor didn't.

"Ah," he said, instead. "You've worked it out."

Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, spinning around on her heel. This stupid jerk alien, who just had a way of digging his heel into any open wound you happened to have in your soul, and he'd lied to her, too, tried to make her feel like she mattered when he knew all along that she didn't, and how dare he? How dare he!

"Get away from me!" Dawn shouted. "I hate you!"

The Doctor didn't move. Just kept his eyes locked on hers. "Good."

That made a whole new surge of anger rise up in Dawn. She flew towards him. "Why?" she screamed. "Why? Why? Why? Why?"

"You know why," the Doctor told her.

And Dawn did know why. The way he'd looked at her that first time… the way he'd flipped out when she was nice to him… the way he'd told her to run and never let him find her…

Dawn just gave him a defiant glare, and tried to stop a sniffle. "So go on, then," she said. "If I'm so evil, go on and kill me! It's not like it matters."

"Life always matters."

"It's not life!" Dawn shouted, stomping her feet on the ground. "I'm not real! I'm not anything! I'm just a Key! I… I shouldn't even exist!"

"Neither should I," the Doctor told her.

Dawn froze. Staring at him. "What?"

The Doctor put his hands into his pockets, and gave a long, steady sigh. "Dawn Summers," he said, walking towards her, his eyes fixed on her own. "You're more real than I am."

"I'm not!" Dawn insisted. "I'm just a Key! I'm nothing!"

"You have a home," the Doctor told her. "A family. Friends. A mum and sister who love you. I don't."

"They're not my family," Dawn gritted through her teeth.

"You remember them as your family," the Doctor told her.

"That doesn't matter," said Dawn. "Everything that's ever happened to me — it's not real. None of it. None of those things ever happened!"

The Doctor nodded. "You're right," he said. "They never happened. But that doesn't mean they aren't real."

"Shut up!" Dawn snapped. "Just shut up! Stop trying to make me feel better! You're the one who wants to kill me! You're the one who's known before anyone else!" She yanked the string off from around her neck, and waved it at him. "And what was this supposed to be? Some kind of joke?" She threw it at him. "Just take your stupid TARDIS, and get out of here!"

The Doctor frowned, bent down and picked up the small Yale key on the string. Dawn let him. She turned and started to march off the other way. Stupid Doctor. Trying to make her think she existed. Trying to make her feel all good about herself. She wasn't a person! She was just his stupid Excalibur thing he was trying to get rid of! That's all!

This time, there was a sudden burst of footsteps behind her, and then a strong but gentle hand rested on her shoulder, turning her around to face him. He raised the TARDIS key up.

"Where did you get this?"

"You gave it to me!" Dawn hissed.

"When?"

"I don't know!" said Dawn. "You gave it to Buffy, and then Buffy gave it to me. You told me to wear it, like some great big neon sign saying, 'Key over here!'"

The Doctor stared at her, a dark intensity in his eyes, but also something else. Something suddenly bright. Something that seemed to be spreading across his face, bursting through him like a beam of sunlight peaking out from behind the clouds. He suddenly swept her up into a tight hug, spinning her around so that her feet didn't even touch the ground, and…

He was laughing.

"Brilliant!" he was muttering. "So brilliant! Absolutely and completely brilliant!"

"Put me down!" Dawn shouted.

The Doctor seemed to snap back to himself, and put her down. He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"What is wrong with you?" Dawn snapped. "What… what…" But she had too many things to say, too little opportunity to figure out how to say them.

"Do you know what this is?" the Doctor asked, waving the key in front of her.

"A TARDIS key," Dawn said.

"My TARDIS key," the Doctor corrected. "With the perception filter! It means — it has to mean — you're going to make it! Dawn Summers! You are going to survive!"

And there was so much relief flooding through him, Dawn just… couldn't think of what to do. What to even say.

The Doctor faltered. "Ah. You're… confused."

"You want to kill me."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Thing is, there was this other…" he trailed off, then shook his head. "I suppose, I always thought, in the end, that I'd have to…" He stopped, then tried again. "I knew. From the moment I met you, I always knew what you were. I just… didn't know what to do about it."

Dawn didn't answer him, just glared at him.

"Truth is," said the Doctor, "Dawn Summers, I can see you."

"What?"

The Doctor waved his hand just beside her arm. "The energy. I can see it." He glanced up to meet her eyes. "I told you, Dawn Summers. You are far, far more real than I am."

Dawn stepped away from him.

"It hurts," he admitted. "Remembering that I shouldn't exist. Remembering that every single part of my childhood has never happened, that every single person I knew and loved on my home-world never existed. And that's what I see every time I look at you. I see that I should not be here."

"I don't… understand," Dawn said.

"I can see you," the Doctor said, "because I'm outside of reality. Completely outside of it." He ran a hand through his hair. "No home. No past. I come from nowhere, nowhen. Every event I remember from my childhood — none of it ever really happened. Wiped out of the universe." He glanced down at the TARDIS key. "All I have left are memories. Just like you."

Dawn didn't answer.

"When all you have are memories, Dawn, you cling to them," said the Doctor. "Because they make you who you are. They may never have happened, but… they're more real than anything else out there."

Dawn hugged her arms to her chest, shifting from foot to foot. "Buffy doesn't think I'm real," she muttered.

The Doctor gave a soft laugh. "Oh, I'd say she does."

"She doesn't," said Dawn. "I heard her. She said I wasn't a real person."

"I thought she was going to kill me, you know," said the Doctor. "When she found out the truth. I even programmed in an emergency system in the TARDIS to take Donna home after I was gone."

"She's just protecting me because she's supposed to," Dawn muttered. "That's her job."

The Doctor sighed. "No, it's not. That's the problem. Her job is to protect the world and the universe. Her job is to destroy you."

Dawn felt her jaw trembling.

"That's why I was never planning to tell her," said the Doctor, gazing off into the distance. "What you were. What it meant. In fact, the only person I was planning to tell was… well, you."

"Me?"

"I've been trying to tell you for a while, now," said the Doctor. "Ever since that time, in the hospital, when Donna…" He trailed off. Then swallowed, and looked back at Dawn. "I know what you are, Dawn Summers. I know what it means. You are the most dangerous girl in the entire universe, and you can't ever forget that. You have a responsibility greater than myself, greater than your sister, greater than anyone else. Everything that ever is, was, and will be is in your hands."

"You… you were going to tell me and not Buffy?" Dawn asked.

"The responsibility is yours," said the Doctor. "Not hers. If it weren't for the universe… pushing me out… you'd have known by now." He gave a small shrug. "Difference in philosophies. As I said."

"What am I?" Dawn asked, in a low, frightened voice. "Why am I dangerous?"

"You're the seventh segment to the Key to Time," the Doctor said. "It's only supposed to have six segments, Dawn. While you stay on Earth, in this time zone, you are stable. But if you ever venture into the future or onto another planet… the Key will become unstable, the Lock will snap, and you'll let it out."

"Let what out?"

The Doctor leveled dark eyes at her. "The end of the universe. The end of all universes. The end of time."

Dawn swallowed. "And that's… what Buffy has to protect?"

"No," said the Doctor, walking up to her. "That's what you have to protect. Because the Key might be what you are. But it's not who you are."

"But Buffy is the Slayer…"

"And you're a human being," the Doctor told her, handing her back the TARDIS key. "You're Dawn Summers. That means something."

"No, it doesn't," said Dawn. "I'm not—"

"You're brilliant," the Doctor told her. "And brave. And determined. And so very, very kind."

Dawn gave a hmph.

"Everyone else I've met, here — your sister included — disliked me and wanted me dead the moment they saw me," said the Doctor. "Everyone else hated me, suspected me, wanted to harm me simply because I'm not human. Except for you." He gave her a small smile. "Kind. Compassionate. And brave. Willing to trust and love and admire, even when others tell you not to. That's amazing, Dawn. More amazing than anything else."

And the weirdest thing was that Dawn could tell, from that look in the Doctor's eyes, that he really believed that. He really believed that she was something special — more special than being the stupid wussy Slayer — just because she'd been a nice person.

The Doctor stepped forwards, and wrapped Dawn's fingers around the TARDIS key. "Your death is not a fixed point in time, Dawn," he told her. "That's what this key means. That's what this is telling me. There's a probability that you, and I, and everyone else will survive this. But it's up to you. Do you understand?"

"Why… why are you doing this to me?" Dawn asked. "Why do you keep treating me like I'm… super-cool and stuff? I thought I was evil and going to destroy the universe!"

"Do you want to destroy the universe?"

"No."

"Then don't," said the Doctor, as if it were that easy.

And when he looked at her like that, Dawn kind of felt like… maybe it was. Maybe she could do this after all! Dawn stuffed the TARDIS key into her pocket, and looked back at the Doctor.

"Okay," she said. "I'll save the universe."

"Brilliant!" said the Doctor, standing up straight, and grinning at her. "Now. You'd better get home, while I…" He paused, then winced. "You're… not going to tell your sister I'm here, right?"

"Why?" asked Dawn. "Are you visiting your secret girlfriend or something?"

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "She's not exactly my girlfriend — what with the constant torture and the deaths and whatnot…"

"Huh?"

"I'm about to do something I promised your sister I wouldn't," the Doctor admitted. "Just… best not… tell her I'm around."

"It's her birthday, you know," said Dawn.

"Well, then!" said the Doctor. "You'd better be off home! Best birthday present — her sister."

Dawn hesitated, and the Doctor noticed.

"Dawn," said the Doctor. "Please. Promise me you'll go home."

Dawn looked up into his eyes. Why did he trust her? No one else trusted her — with anything. Not with her own safety. Not with their secrets. Not even with knowledge of who she was. And he trusted her to make sure the universe didn't end.

Dawn began to nod her agreement…


A shudder ran down Dawn's spine. No, not just that. Down the spine of the whole world.

Dawn shook it off. She kept walking down the alleyway. What did any of that matter when she wasn't real? None of it was real!

An ambulance rushed by her, and she glanced at it. Stupid ambulance. Stupid hospital. Stupid doctors. Stupid, stupid, doctor, dumb, doctor, yucky, doctor…

Dawn Summers, you're more real than I am.

Dawn blinked. The thought had come to her as if whispered across a gust of wind. Like there was someone… something… missing. Gone. Not real.

Yeah, because she wasn't real. She knew that. Not real, missing, gone, created from nothing. Just a blob of energy, that's all.

She didn't exactly know why she wound up walking to the hospital.