(no subject)
Thought I'd dig it out and post it over here for your reading pleaseure. I love this quote. Enjoy. =)
“I feel like I’m always crying,” she said resting her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, me too.” Dawn went very still at his soft words.
“You cry? Wait I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just...you always seem so... your just always there. You’re always ready...for whatever.... I don’t think I’m saying what I want to say.” She had tensed up while speaking and Xander lifted the hand from her shoulder and gently stroked her hair.
“I know. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” Well Buffy would still be dead, and Joyce, they still hadn’t heard from Mr. Summers, and wasn’t that odd. But tonight was going to end and soon the watchers would leave. They had people they trusted to watch their backs and their pack, such as it was, would stand together against whatever life or death through at them.
He hoped she understood that, because he wasn’t sure he could put it into words.
“How do you do it?” She asked.
“Do what?” What had he done? Xander wondered if he should have tapped Willow and tag teamed this conversation.
“How do you know what to do? What to feel? Who to ...I don’t... Xander everything is so complicated.” She punctuated her frustration with a light rap on his chest.
Xander remembered when she was nine and cried tears of frustration because Buffy would throw her out of her room because she was always pestering her, yet the reason she pestered was because she wanted desperately to be with the ‘big kids’. He used to take her down to the kitchen, because hey the kitchen, food. He would make up outrages stories for her with Willow, Buffy and himself as the main characters. Never Angel, unless he was a monster, although sometimes Giles made an appearance as an oracle or a wizard. She would listen so seriously, all the while serving up whatever desert Joyce had made the night before. Xander couldn’t really grasp that all those memories of milk and pie had been planted by the monks. He bet Dawn couldn’t really wrap her mind around it either, even knowing she is the key.
So instead of answering her questions he said, “A very long time ago, when the world was new, people discovered that not everything is what it seems. They knew the world was dangerous. It was very wild. You could die from a fall or a fire; wild animals saw you as dinner and wouldn’t hesitate to attack. There wasn’t always food to eat. Crops would fail, and animals died. People would die and other people didn’t always know what killed them. But they dealt with it, because it was part of life. Life was short.
Twenty was old. People started their families at fourteen or fifteen and often never lived to reach thirty.
One day something horrible happen, no one knows what because it was so bad hardly anyone lived through it, and those who did where so traumatized they could never speak of it. The most horrible thing about it was that it wasn’t natural. It was supernatural. It was outside the normal rhythms of live and was so devastating because the only way to stop it was to step outside of the sacred balance.
One day a great king approached this great Evil and said ‘I have come to fight you.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why do you fight me?’ The king answered ‘This is my world, and I will not have you slaughter my people.’ and the king was no more. Another day a famous hero confronted the Evil and said ‘I will destroy you.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why will you destroy me?’ ‘I would rather die fighting for what is right, then live under your rule,’ the hero replied, and was no more. A holy man was next to oppose the Evil and he said, ‘I banish thee.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why do you banish me.’ ‘You are unnatural. You are not of this place. The balance must be restored.’ and the holy man was no more.
Now, people had pretty much given up hope. The apocalypse was over and the world had lost. The Evil would always be a part of this world and there was no use fighting it.
Then, quiet unexpectedly; without the pomp and ceremony of the King; or the war drums of the hero; or even the incense of the holy man, a young girl approached the evil. There was a tremble to her step, but she straightened her back and climbed the steps to the dais where the Evil sat in its throne of skulls. She said ‘I going to stop you from killing any more people.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why will you stop me from killing any more people’ and the girl said ‘Because I love them.’ And the Evil was no more.
Now that wasn’t the last evil, you know. We still fight it today. But what you have to remember is it started with just the girl. She wasn’t alone. Even then there were people who considered her to be their girl. They loved her. Back then, they were her parents, her siblings, her friends, and her lovers. They fought along side her, helping where they could, sometimes just loving her, letting her know she wasn’t alone. Eventually, as in any story of a life, that life ends. The girl died. But when she died another was chosen. The people, who loved the first girl, helped the next one. They passed on what the first girl had learn, hoping the knowledge would help the next girl live longer, hoping it would give her some advantage in the fight that never ends.
But they were just people, and the girl never lived long. It was hard to reach out to the newest girl. Hard to love her, or hard to let themselves love her when they knew no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried they would lose her too. So they organized and concentrated on teaching and training, but never loving, that would interfere. They became the watchers. And they record and research and do everything but the most important.
Which is why, in answer to you question I know everything will be fine. You see,” Xander leaned over and kissed Dawn on the forehead. “Its not complicated if you remember the most important thing. Love the girl. Everything else is just window dressing.”
The clapping startle them both. They looked over and saw Spike and Giles standing at the doorway. Giles ignored Spike’s applause, but added, “While not historically accurate, once again you’ve managed to reduce a quiet complex dispute unto its basic components. Quite well done Xander.” Giles enter the room and looked down at Dawn as she huddled against Xander.
Reconstruction, part 6, by Wordsmith
“I feel like I’m always crying,” she said resting her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, me too.” Dawn went very still at his soft words.
“You cry? Wait I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just...you always seem so... your just always there. You’re always ready...for whatever.... I don’t think I’m saying what I want to say.” She had tensed up while speaking and Xander lifted the hand from her shoulder and gently stroked her hair.
“I know. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” Well Buffy would still be dead, and Joyce, they still hadn’t heard from Mr. Summers, and wasn’t that odd. But tonight was going to end and soon the watchers would leave. They had people they trusted to watch their backs and their pack, such as it was, would stand together against whatever life or death through at them.
He hoped she understood that, because he wasn’t sure he could put it into words.
“How do you do it?” She asked.
“Do what?” What had he done? Xander wondered if he should have tapped Willow and tag teamed this conversation.
“How do you know what to do? What to feel? Who to ...I don’t... Xander everything is so complicated.” She punctuated her frustration with a light rap on his chest.
Xander remembered when she was nine and cried tears of frustration because Buffy would throw her out of her room because she was always pestering her, yet the reason she pestered was because she wanted desperately to be with the ‘big kids’. He used to take her down to the kitchen, because hey the kitchen, food. He would make up outrages stories for her with Willow, Buffy and himself as the main characters. Never Angel, unless he was a monster, although sometimes Giles made an appearance as an oracle or a wizard. She would listen so seriously, all the while serving up whatever desert Joyce had made the night before. Xander couldn’t really grasp that all those memories of milk and pie had been planted by the monks. He bet Dawn couldn’t really wrap her mind around it either, even knowing she is the key.
So instead of answering her questions he said, “A very long time ago, when the world was new, people discovered that not everything is what it seems. They knew the world was dangerous. It was very wild. You could die from a fall or a fire; wild animals saw you as dinner and wouldn’t hesitate to attack. There wasn’t always food to eat. Crops would fail, and animals died. People would die and other people didn’t always know what killed them. But they dealt with it, because it was part of life. Life was short.
Twenty was old. People started their families at fourteen or fifteen and often never lived to reach thirty.
One day something horrible happen, no one knows what because it was so bad hardly anyone lived through it, and those who did where so traumatized they could never speak of it. The most horrible thing about it was that it wasn’t natural. It was supernatural. It was outside the normal rhythms of live and was so devastating because the only way to stop it was to step outside of the sacred balance.
One day a great king approached this great Evil and said ‘I have come to fight you.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why do you fight me?’ The king answered ‘This is my world, and I will not have you slaughter my people.’ and the king was no more. Another day a famous hero confronted the Evil and said ‘I will destroy you.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why will you destroy me?’ ‘I would rather die fighting for what is right, then live under your rule,’ the hero replied, and was no more. A holy man was next to oppose the Evil and he said, ‘I banish thee.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why do you banish me.’ ‘You are unnatural. You are not of this place. The balance must be restored.’ and the holy man was no more.
Now, people had pretty much given up hope. The apocalypse was over and the world had lost. The Evil would always be a part of this world and there was no use fighting it.
Then, quiet unexpectedly; without the pomp and ceremony of the King; or the war drums of the hero; or even the incense of the holy man, a young girl approached the evil. There was a tremble to her step, but she straightened her back and climbed the steps to the dais where the Evil sat in its throne of skulls. She said ‘I going to stop you from killing any more people.’ And the Evil replied ‘Why will you stop me from killing any more people’ and the girl said ‘Because I love them.’ And the Evil was no more.
Now that wasn’t the last evil, you know. We still fight it today. But what you have to remember is it started with just the girl. She wasn’t alone. Even then there were people who considered her to be their girl. They loved her. Back then, they were her parents, her siblings, her friends, and her lovers. They fought along side her, helping where they could, sometimes just loving her, letting her know she wasn’t alone. Eventually, as in any story of a life, that life ends. The girl died. But when she died another was chosen. The people, who loved the first girl, helped the next one. They passed on what the first girl had learn, hoping the knowledge would help the next girl live longer, hoping it would give her some advantage in the fight that never ends.
But they were just people, and the girl never lived long. It was hard to reach out to the newest girl. Hard to love her, or hard to let themselves love her when they knew no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried they would lose her too. So they organized and concentrated on teaching and training, but never loving, that would interfere. They became the watchers. And they record and research and do everything but the most important.
Which is why, in answer to you question I know everything will be fine. You see,” Xander leaned over and kissed Dawn on the forehead. “Its not complicated if you remember the most important thing. Love the girl. Everything else is just window dressing.”
The clapping startle them both. They looked over and saw Spike and Giles standing at the doorway. Giles ignored Spike’s applause, but added, “While not historically accurate, once again you’ve managed to reduce a quiet complex dispute unto its basic components. Quite well done Xander.” Giles enter the room and looked down at Dawn as she huddled against Xander.
Reconstruction, part 6, by Wordsmith