Ficlet: Anya, Dawn: After the World Ends
Mammoth holiday photo post to follow, but first, this comment fic is a teensy bit too long for comments:
Author Brutti ma buoni
Title After the World Ends
Characters Anya, Dawn
Rating/Warnings PGish, but with angst and lots and lots of implied character deaths
Prompt for the Bechdel Test ficathon, prompt by snickfic, ‘afterwards and all alone’
A/N An alternative ending to The Gift.
“What did you do? What the hell did you just do, Dawn?” Anya’s voice had a serrated, shrieking edge, slashing at Dawn’s brain. She wished she had an answer, just so the shrieking would end, but nothing sensible occurred.
She tried, “I had to make it stop,” which was all she could be certain of. The energy, the light, the sensation of dimensions falling at her touch. She had had to make it stop. And she had, somehow.
But now, they were alone. Everyone else had… say it… everyone else had burned up and gone.
There was nothing to do. The world was saved, probably, or at least no one was trying to end it any more. The hell-god had died in her human form, which had burned up with all the rest, demons, vampires… humans…
But not these two, these females. They were standing in the midst of no one.
There weren’t even ashes to cry over. They didn’t cry. Anya had stopped talking. Dawn had barely started, and didn’t propose to now. It was too big to speak about.
They walked back into downtown Sunnydale. Silence there too. No people, no demons.
At Revello Drive (silent, of course), they entered Dawn’s silent home and numbly watched a snowstorm on the TV screen: no broadcasts. Nobody to broadcast, Dawn supposed.
When the radio and TV continued dead air into the next day or two, they had to accept it was everywhere. Everyone burned up and gone.
The animals seemed to be around. The occasional ladybug and bee were their only company in the house.
On the third day, when fresh food became an issue, they went out again. Heard a sound, of purposeful movement that they hadn’t had since it happened. And met a wrinkly-skinned demon with a sweetly anxious smile. Somehow, killing him seemed like a really dumb idea, so they didn’t even try.
“Hey ladies, I’m Clem! Good to see some folks around. Do you know what happened? All my friends just poofed out of existence. Freakiest thing I ever saw.”
“Are you the only one left? At all?” Anya, focused.
“Nope, there’s a coupla ancient My’nam demons that live in the garbage dump. They’re still around. And I know for sure the old goddess Nimue’s still here. She was looking for bourbon last night as usual. It’s a sad sight.” Clem managed to look genuinely upset by this, amid the greater crisis.
“Old? Ancient? How old, exactly?” Dawn was glad Anya was talking to Clem. She didn’t seem to have words these days.
Clem pondered, and came up with, “Seven, maybe eight hundred years? A little older than me, I think.”
They parted, with vague good will on both sides. Dawn still hadn’t spoken.
Back home, if you could call it home... “I know what you did,” said Anya.
It was a relief. “Me too.”
Anya looked on the verge of attacking Dawn. Dawn wouldn’t have blamed her.
But… “I suppose you just wanted it to never have happened? Like, if Doc hadn’t bled you, or Ben been host to Glory, or anyone else involved with the Key…”
“Yep. It would have been better if they’d never lived.” Dawn remembered, now, how strongly she’d had that thought. Go back, go back. Never be born. Unmake this day. At that moment, she’d have died to save them all, gladly. Gone back to a ball of green energy if she had to, never been Dawn. If it would make it all stop.
But she’d rolled back lives, not time. Everyone’s lives. And for too long.
Hundreds of years, looked like. Spike had gone, but Clem was alive.
Anya was clearly thinking the same, calculating the same. “So you’re infinitely old, I’m over eleven hundred, Clem’s about six hundred, maybe… Hmmm. I wonder how many other really ancient demons and vampires there are? Because otherwise, it’s just going to be you and me, little Key girl.”
She didn’t even sound angry, not any more. Dawn still had to say, “I’m sorry-” but got no further.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve no doubt this wasn’t what you wanted, okay? It just happened. So we have to deal. Do you know how to make fire? Grind corn? I can teach you. Also some spells and potions that’ll keep the worst of the demons at bay. I’m thinking we might try some kind of barter with the less noxious ones, get some free labour in return for yummy snacks.”
Dawn had been about to cry. But now… now she had Anya. And Anya had plans. She almost giggled instead at the switch from apocalypse to can-do entrepreneurialism.
They would cry. Of course they would. Their world was gone.
But they’d live.
Author Brutti ma buoni
Title After the World Ends
Characters Anya, Dawn
Rating/Warnings PGish, but with angst and lots and lots of implied character deaths
Prompt for the Bechdel Test ficathon, prompt by snickfic, ‘afterwards and all alone’
A/N An alternative ending to The Gift.
“What did you do? What the hell did you just do, Dawn?” Anya’s voice had a serrated, shrieking edge, slashing at Dawn’s brain. She wished she had an answer, just so the shrieking would end, but nothing sensible occurred.
She tried, “I had to make it stop,” which was all she could be certain of. The energy, the light, the sensation of dimensions falling at her touch. She had had to make it stop. And she had, somehow.
But now, they were alone. Everyone else had… say it… everyone else had burned up and gone.
There was nothing to do. The world was saved, probably, or at least no one was trying to end it any more. The hell-god had died in her human form, which had burned up with all the rest, demons, vampires… humans…
But not these two, these females. They were standing in the midst of no one.
There weren’t even ashes to cry over. They didn’t cry. Anya had stopped talking. Dawn had barely started, and didn’t propose to now. It was too big to speak about.
They walked back into downtown Sunnydale. Silence there too. No people, no demons.
At Revello Drive (silent, of course), they entered Dawn’s silent home and numbly watched a snowstorm on the TV screen: no broadcasts. Nobody to broadcast, Dawn supposed.
When the radio and TV continued dead air into the next day or two, they had to accept it was everywhere. Everyone burned up and gone.
The animals seemed to be around. The occasional ladybug and bee were their only company in the house.
On the third day, when fresh food became an issue, they went out again. Heard a sound, of purposeful movement that they hadn’t had since it happened. And met a wrinkly-skinned demon with a sweetly anxious smile. Somehow, killing him seemed like a really dumb idea, so they didn’t even try.
“Hey ladies, I’m Clem! Good to see some folks around. Do you know what happened? All my friends just poofed out of existence. Freakiest thing I ever saw.”
“Are you the only one left? At all?” Anya, focused.
“Nope, there’s a coupla ancient My’nam demons that live in the garbage dump. They’re still around. And I know for sure the old goddess Nimue’s still here. She was looking for bourbon last night as usual. It’s a sad sight.” Clem managed to look genuinely upset by this, amid the greater crisis.
“Old? Ancient? How old, exactly?” Dawn was glad Anya was talking to Clem. She didn’t seem to have words these days.
Clem pondered, and came up with, “Seven, maybe eight hundred years? A little older than me, I think.”
They parted, with vague good will on both sides. Dawn still hadn’t spoken.
Back home, if you could call it home... “I know what you did,” said Anya.
It was a relief. “Me too.”
Anya looked on the verge of attacking Dawn. Dawn wouldn’t have blamed her.
But… “I suppose you just wanted it to never have happened? Like, if Doc hadn’t bled you, or Ben been host to Glory, or anyone else involved with the Key…”
“Yep. It would have been better if they’d never lived.” Dawn remembered, now, how strongly she’d had that thought. Go back, go back. Never be born. Unmake this day. At that moment, she’d have died to save them all, gladly. Gone back to a ball of green energy if she had to, never been Dawn. If it would make it all stop.
But she’d rolled back lives, not time. Everyone’s lives. And for too long.
Hundreds of years, looked like. Spike had gone, but Clem was alive.
Anya was clearly thinking the same, calculating the same. “So you’re infinitely old, I’m over eleven hundred, Clem’s about six hundred, maybe… Hmmm. I wonder how many other really ancient demons and vampires there are? Because otherwise, it’s just going to be you and me, little Key girl.”
She didn’t even sound angry, not any more. Dawn still had to say, “I’m sorry-” but got no further.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve no doubt this wasn’t what you wanted, okay? It just happened. So we have to deal. Do you know how to make fire? Grind corn? I can teach you. Also some spells and potions that’ll keep the worst of the demons at bay. I’m thinking we might try some kind of barter with the less noxious ones, get some free labour in return for yummy snacks.”
Dawn had been about to cry. But now… now she had Anya. And Anya had plans. She almost giggled instead at the switch from apocalypse to can-do entrepreneurialism.
They would cry. Of course they would. Their world was gone.
But they’d live.