Dawning Light 12: Bad Girl (AB/BtVS) PG
Dawning Light
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake crossover
Chapter Twelve: Bad Girl
by Mhalachai
Summary: Dawn fell from Glory's tower and into the portal. Now she's all alone and scared... but sometimes family comes from the strangest places.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Anita Blake belongs to Laurell K. Hamilton. No profit has been made from this fic, and the only benefit to me is personal satisfaction and the creative process. I hope you enjoy.
Rating: PG
Words: 8,210
Spoilers: Danse Macabre only, nothing from subsequent books.
Note: So it's been about six months. Um, yeah. This chapter is a belated thank you to the lovely hsifyppah for the user time :) In this chapter, we go up, we go down... who knows where we will end up?
Setting: This little episode takes place after Christmas (Chapter 11) and after the Dawning Light outtake, Check Mate. That one, written back on Dec. 23rd, 2006, has some lovely foreshadowing for this chapter. You may want to read it first. Go on, we'll wait.
Previous parts here
~~~~~
Dawn stared at the clock. Two o'clock in the morning, and she refused to go to sleep. If she slept, she would dream, and she didn't know if she could take another night of horrible, violent nightmares.
The nightmares had been growing in force and severity since Christmas, over a month before. On some nights she was fine. But on the other nights...
Sinking lower under the covers, Dawn clung to Sigmund and Augustine and wished she could get warm, wished she didn't feel so tired. She missed Sunnydale so bad, with its warm weather even in the winter time, and how Mom would always make sure Dawn was tucked in, and Buffy...
Dawn buried her face in Sigmund's belly. Thinking of Buffy brought back all those horrible nightmares, of sharp knives and broken glass and falling, always falling. When Dawn was lucky, she'd wake up before she got cold, but if it was like last night, she'd wander around in her dreams forever, frozen and hurting, then wake up to find she'd kicked the covers to the floor again.
All of which could be prevented if Dawn never went to sleep again.
There were other things, hiding in the shadows of her room, ideas with sharp teeth and claws whispering over the carpet, but Dawn would not, could not, think about them. It was far better to be cold than to turn into that, to be like that.
Out in the hallway, a floorboard creaked. Terror ran down Dawn's spine. Something was in the hallway. Something was coming for her.
The doorknob turned soundlessly and the door began to open.
A whimper slipped out from between Dawn's lips as she clenched Sigmund tight in her arms. It was like another one of her nightmares, but she was already wide awake and she'd never be able to escape.
The door opened all the way and someone entered the room. It was Micah. "Dawn?" he called softly. "Are you okay? I heard you moving around."
Dawn didn't move. It might be a trick. One of the creatures in the shadows, with sharp teeth and claws, might be pretending to be Micah until it got close and then it would eat her up, toes and all.
Micah switched on the bedside lamp, making Dawn blink in the sudden illumination. "Dawn, why aren't you asleep?" he asked. "It's two in the morning."
Dawn buried her face in her pillow. It wasn't a monster come to eat her up or slice her to pieces or rip her to shreds. It was just Micah. Micah would never hurt her.
Right?
The bed shifted slightly. Dawn glanced up to see that Micah had sat on the edge of the mattress. He pulled the covers up over Dawn's shoulders. "Did you have another nightmare?" Micah asked.
Dawn shook her head. She hadn't, not really, not that night. The memory of weeks of nightmares didn't really count.
"How long have you been awake?" Micah was looking at her with worried eyes.
"Why do you care?" Dawn asked, curling up into a ball under the quilt.
Micah frowned slightly. "Why would you ask something like that?"
Dawn pried one hand off Sigmund and scratched at the sheet. Part of her didn't understand why her nails didn't slice through the cotton. "Just because."
Micah was silent for a very long time. "Would you have asked Anita that question?"
The mention of Anita made Dawn's stomach twist. Part of the nightmare, not the one about cold, but the other, was about Anita.
Dawn pushed those thoughts away. "Anita's supposed to ask me questions like that."
"What about Nathaniel?"
Dawn reached out and pulled Augustine closer until his soft white head was underneath her chin. "I dunno."
Micah rested his elbows on his knees and let out a very sad-sounding breath. Dawn realized he was still in his street clothes. He must have just gotten home from work. "Dawn, you said your dad left your mom just after you were born?"
Dawn rubbed Augustine's nose with her thumb while she tried to think. Was that what she had said about Hank Summers? She couldn't remember her own lies any more. "I guess. But they do, right? Leave?"
"What do?"
"Dads."
Micah blinked. "Just because your father left--"
"Everyone's did." Dawn struggled out from under the covers and knocked Augustine to the side. "My dad went away because Buffy was bad, so did Angel and Riley and everyone! Willow's parents never stayed around because they didn't care. Xander's dad should have gone away but he didn't so he hit Xander instead." She frowned. "Tara's dad told her she was a demon and treated her really bad until she ran away to go to school and he followed her and was going to take her back by force until Buffy threatened to hurt him hardcore."
A muscle in Micah's clenched jaw twitched. "That's not the way it's supposed to happen," he said after a minute. "Dads can care about their kids as much as moms do."
Dawn shivered slightly against the cold. "Maybe." She picked at the sheet covering her lap. "But even Anita doesn't think so."
"What do you mean?"
"Anita doesn't talk to her dad because she thinks he thinks she's bad or something 'cause he got married again and had another family and he wouldn't do that if Anita was good enough."
Micah went still. "Did Anita--" He cut himself off. "Did you hear that from Anita?"
Dawn didn't answer. Truthfully, she had no idea why she knew that about Anita. Even thinking about Anita made Dawn's stomach roil until she wanted to throw up.
"That's not what happened with Anita's father," Micah went on. "He married again after Anita's mother died, but it wasn't to replace anyone. It certainly wasn't because Anita was bad."
"You're not listening!" Dawn exclaimed. She threw Sigmund hard at Micah. "Dads go away because we're bad! They don't care! Hank left 'cause Buffy and I were bad girls and Anita's dad had another family because Anita is bad!"
"You are not a bad girl!" Micah said firmly. "And neither is Anita, where is this coming from?"
He tried to touch Dawn's shoulder, but she hit out at him. She missed, and it made her to angry, so she hit out again, and again, this time making contact with Micah's arm.
All the frustration and anger and cold overwhelmed Dawn. She kept punching at Micah with all of her strength, and he didn't respond at all, just let Dawn hit him.
Instead of releasing her rage, Dawn grew angrier and angrier. She didn't know what she was doing and she couldn't stop, she was so cold and so tired and so scared of being bad that everyone would push her away.
Finally, Micah took hold of Dawn's flailing fists. She tried to keep hitting him, herself, anything, but Micah held her firm. Pulling the blanket off the end of the bed, Micah wrapped Dawn up in the soft blue cloth. He stood up with her in his arms and walked around the room as she tried to breathe normally.
Eventually, Dawn's sniffles died down, and she was left tired and cold and sick to her stomach.
"You're not a bad girl," Micah told her as he stopped by the window. He pulled back the curtain so they could look out at the clear night. "Why did you think that?"
Dawn wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Just because."
"There's usually a reason why," Micah pressed. "Did someone tell you something?"
"No," Dawn whispered.
"Did you hear something on television or read something in a book?"
Dawn shook her head. The half moon was low on the horizon, almost hidden by the trees of the park down the block. Something about the moon made Dawn feel even worse.
"You don't have to talk about it, but we want to help you, you know that? All of us, me and Nathaniel and Anita."
"Not Anita," Dawn whispered before she could hold back the words.
"Yes, Anita," Micah said. He shifted Dawn higher. "Anita loves you and she would do anything in the world to help you."
Sour bile rose in Dawn's throat as tattered scraps of nightmares chased each other around in the shadows of her mind. "She shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"I... I'm a bad person."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because." Wind whistled cold on the other side of the glass, and Dawn wished she could be out there, cold and alone, instead of telling Micah how bad she really was. "I have dreams."
"What happens in the dreams?"
The shadows outside moved on the snow, hiding the snickety-snack of teeth and claws. "I hurt people."
"Who do you hurt?"
Blood in her mouth, blood on her hands. "The bad people. Anita. And Buffy."
Dawn was shaking now, certain that Micah would make her go away, out into the dark and the cold. How could he not, after what she had dreamed?
"Why are Anita and your sister bad in your dreams?"
But Dawn couldn't answer. Micah wrapped her up tighter in the blanket and patted her back as he started walking in circles again.
"Do you want a glass of water?" Micah asked after a little while.
Dawn, who had been alternating trying to stay awake and not throwing up, shook her head. "I don't feel good," she confessed.
Micah put his hand on her forehead. "You're a little flushed," he said. "You might be coming down with something. How does your throat feel? How about your stomach?"
Dawn squirmed. "My tummy feels bad," she confessed reluctantly. "Like I'm gonna throw up."
"I can understand that," Micah told her. "How about we go get you a drink from the kitchen?"
Dawn sniffled mightily, blinking hard to stay awake. "Okay," she whispered. "That might be okay."
Micah carried Dawn out into the darkened hallway and down the stairs. The house was strange this late at night, all silence and dark and still, as if no one lived there at all. Dawn clung to Micah's shoulder as he walked through the house. Could he feel how sad the house was?
In the kitchen, Micah turned on the tiny glowing lights over the island. He placed Dawn on the counter, still wrapped up in the blanket, before going to the fridge.
Dawn watched his every move. Nothing made any sense, and she couldn't even think where to begin trying to figure it out. Her stomach hurt too much.
When Micah returned, he was carrying a small glass of ginger ale. "This should help your stomach," he told her.
Dawn shook her head. "There's too many bubbles."
Micah almost smiled. "How about this?" He shook the glass gently, so all the bubbles rose to the top and popped. He passed the glass to Dawn and waited while she took her first sip. It was nice and sweet, just like it was supposed to be.
She took another sip.
"You don't have to tell me about your dreams if you don't want to," Micah said as Dawn nursed the ginger ale. "But sometimes talking about bad dreams makes them less scary."
"This won't," Dawn muttered between swallows.
"You won't know until you try." Micah paused, waiting for Dawn to speak.
She finished off her drink and handed the glass back to Micah. He put it in the sink, and waited some more. The kitchen looked almost normal, but the house felt so very sad in the dark. Maybe Micah was right. Maybe Dawn would feel better if she talked about her dreams.
She took a deep breath. "Do you ever have dreams like you're a wolf and you're chasing bad people and then you catch them and hurt them but then it's not like they're the bad one but you are but it's too late and you can't take it back?"
Micah took in the words without visible reaction. "Are you dreaming that you're a wolf?"
Dawn nodded miserably.
"And in these dreams, you hurt Anita and Buffy?"
Feeling even worse than before, Dawn nodded again.
"Why are they bad? In your dreams?"
Dawn lowered her head. "They just are."
"Do you remember why you think they are bad?"
Answers swirled in the shadows, just within reach. "Anita didn't protect me like she was supposed to, so I ate her up while she was screaming," Dawn whispered. She hunched in on herself as the swirling upset in her stomach got faster and hurt even more.
"Did Buffy do something similar?" Micah asked.
Dawn couldn't even shake her head. "Buffy let Glory take me and she couldn't save me."
Micah pushed the hair back from Dawn's forehead. "Who's Glory?" he asked.
Dawn's mind skittered away from thoughts of Glory, away from the tower and Ben and the dress and the knives and of falling. She reached up and put her arms around Micah's neck, clinging to him as tightly to him as she could.
She heard him sigh. "You didn't do anything wrong by having nightmares," he told her. Dawn only held on tighter. Micah picked her up, blanket and all. "Sometimes we have nightmares because there are things we need to deal with, things that scare us when we're awake, that our minds need to deal with when we're asleep."
Was Dawn imagining it, or did the house give a sad, tearful sigh?
"You have to know that Anita would do anything to protect you, same with Nathaniel and myself. From anything at all."
"But what if I was bad?" Dawn asked, voice muffled by Micah's shoulder.
"You could never do anything bad enough to make us stop protecting you," Micah told her. "Nothing at all."
Dawn dug her fingers into Micah's shirt. He might say that now, but he didn't know. He didn't know that she was the reason everyone back in Sunnydale got hurt, that she was the reason Richard was so mad at Anita.
They didn't know she'd been lying to them since the day she met them all.
More importantly, what would they do to her when they found out?
~~~
Dawn glared at her toast. Stupid breakfast. Stupid morning. Stupid Nathaniel, waking her up at the crack of ten o'clock.
Everything sucked.
Across the table, Anita opened her mouth to speak, but let out her breath without saying a thing. She had been doing that for a while now, and it was starting to annoy Dawn.
Dawn picked at the toast again, wondering what Nathaniel would say if she just licked off the peanut butter and left the bread on her plate.
"Dawn?"
Great. Now Anita wanted to talk. Dawn didn't look up.
"Dawn, if... if you want to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you can," Anita said quietly. At the words, Nathaniel stopped washing dishes and rested his hands on the edge of the sink.
"Don't have anything to say," Dawn said crossly. She shoved her plate away from her so hard it knocked into the salt shaker.
"But if you want to--"
"I don't want to talk to anyone!" Dawn shrieked. "Leave me alone!" She jumped down from her chair and ran into the hallway, knocking into Micah as she went. She kept going, down the hall and into the living room.
The morning sun shone into the room with an annoying cheerfulness. Dawn jumped onto the couch and buried her face in one of the cushions. The fabric was too scratchy on her face, so she squirmed around to a sitting position. She punched the offending cushion for good measure.
Why won't they leave me alone? Dawn thought furiously. All they want to talk about what I told Micah last night! Stupid nightmares and stupid Micah and stupid Anita... Dawn ran out of things to mentally trash, and so she kicked at the couch cushions for good measure.
Part of her expected one of the adults to come see how she was. That's what they always did when she ran off like that. Micah or Nathaniel or Anita, sometimes all three of them, would come sit with her and they'd talk about stuff.
But Dawn had just told Anita she didn't want to talk to any of them.
Dawn's stomach squirmed, like worms in the mud. The sensation had nothing to do with her nightmares and that made it so much worse. She had told Anita she didn't want anything to do with them, and now none of the adults had come to see how she was doing. And all this after she'd told Micah what kinds of bad things she dreamed about doing to Anita.
Maybe they'd realized that she was a bad girl after all, and that they didn't want her living in their house.
It was getting hard to breathe, like there wasn't enough air or something.
If they didn't want Dawn in their house because she was a bad girl, where was she going to go? She didn't have anybody in this world but Anita and Micah and Nathaniel. They were the only ones who wanted anything to do with her, and she was having nightmares where she was doing bad things to them.
What was she going to do if they didn't want her anymore?
Who was going to protect her if Anita didn't?
Dawn slipped off the couch. Her foot slipped on the carpet and she stumbled. She was distantly aware that she was shaking, but it didn't matter. If Anita didn't want to protect Dawn anymore, nothing mattered.
The walk back to the kitchen took a long time. Voices drifted out of the room, but Dawn couldn't hear them over the mess in her head.
Finally, Dawn peeked around the doorframe. Anita was bent over her coffee cup, Nathaniel sitting next to her and Micah by the basement door. No one looked at Dawn. Maybe they were pretending that she was already gone.
Dawn edged into the room.
Anita was the first to notice her. "Dawn? What's wrong?"
Dawn stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched in her throat, like a stutter, but she couldn't get in any air.
Anita was out of her chair in an instant and at Dawn's side. Dawn flung her arms around Anita's waist and hung on for dear life. "Don't make me leave," she managed to squeeze out.
Anita pried Dawn's arms loose and knelt down. "No one's going to make you leave, why are you saying that?" Anita demanded as she gathered Dawn up in a hug.
Dawn wrapped her arms tight around Anita's neck. "'Cause I had bad dreams," Dawn wailed, her voice muffled by Anita's collar. "'Cause I'm bad."
Anita ran her hand over Dawn's hair, holding her so tight. "You are not bad," Anita said with feeling. "And we will never let you leave." Her voice was thick with tears. "You're going to stay right here with us where you belong, do you understand?" She kissed the side of Dawn's head. "You belong here."
Dawn clung to Anita as she had clung to Micah the night before; as if the world would end if she let go. "But I dreamed--"
"It doesn't matter what you dreamed," Anita said. "Dreams don't mean anything. You're safe here, I promise." She hesitated. "I'll do anything to keep you safe."
Dawn buried her face in Anita's shirt, holding on with all her might. She stayed there as Anita stood up, carrying Dawn over to the table and sitting back in her chair. Dawn knew Micah and Nathaniel were still in the room, but all that mattered was that Anita wasn't going to throw her out into the snow.
Anita had promised to protect her forever.
"I'm going to stay here with you today," Anita said after a few minutes. "Would that be okay? We could play cards or watch a movie or something. We don't have to talk unless you want to."
The idea of spending a whole day with Anita sounded really good to Dawn. She nodded against Anita's shoulder.
"Good." Anita rubbed circles on Dawn's back. "Micah, can you call Jean-Claude and tell him that I'm going to have to cancel our plans for tonight?"
"Of course," Micah said.
Someone pulled a chair over beside Anita and sat down. Nathaniel, Dawn knew without looking up. "Maybe I can make something else for breakfast?" he asked Anita. "Anything at all. Or maybe I can make lunch. It's almost lunchtime."
"Maybe in a little bit," Anita replied. "Maybe give us a few minutes to gather our thoughts?"
Dawn turned her head just enough so she could see Nathaniel. "Thank you," she whispered.
Nathaniel smiled and touched Dawn's arm. "Any time," he said. "Let me know if you need anything."
Dawn nodded.
"That goes for any of us," Anita whispered in Dawn's hair. "If you need anything at all. We're here for you, whatever you need."
It was funny, but when Anita said it like that, Dawn could almost believe her.
~~~
"You're doing it wrong."
Nathaniel raised his eyes from the half-assembled puzzle. "What should I be doing?"
Dawn shuffled around the coffee table to his side. She took the puzzle piece from his fingers. "You got to build the puzzle from the edges in, not the middle out. Otherwise you end up with a headache and broken door knobs."
Across the table, Anita looked up. "Broken door knobs?" she echoed.
"Yeah, because the puzzle takes forever and you get all frustrated and then you try to leave the room but the door knob doesn't work 'cause it never really did and it breaks off in your hand and you're stuck forever with an impossible puzzle and no way out." Dawn handed Nathaniel another piece of the puzzle. "This one goes on the side, see?"
Anita glanced over at Micah, seated on the couch with a pile of bills, then back to Dawn. "Is that a hypothetical example or a lesson well-learned?" she asked.
Dawn shrugged. "Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. We eventually got out of the room, but the puzzle sure didn't." No need to mention that Buffy's Slayer strength had been what broke the door in the first place.
In spite of Nathaniel's unfamiliarity with optimal puzzle procedure, they were half-way through the Christmas puzzle assembly. Micah had declined to play, but he was still in the room with them. In spite of the horrible start to the day, things were going really good, in Dawn's opinion. After breakfast, Anita had read a book with her, then Nathaniel let Dawn pick what they would have with lunch and even allowed her to make patterns with the pepperoni on the pizza.
Anita had promised that when they were done the puzzle, they could watch a movie while they ate dinner, if Dawn would go to bed early to make up for the lack of sleep the previous night. Dawn had pouted a little, but hadn't argued too much. She was still tired, but she told herself that she'd only agreed with Anita so Anita wouldn't feel bad about missing her date with Jean-Claude.
A few more puzzle pieces had found a home when Anita's cell phone rang. The woman flipped open the phone and lifted it to her ear. "Hello? Oh, hi Larry. What's up?"
Dawn gripped the little piece of sky so hard the sharp edges bit into her hand. Anita wouldn't have to leave, would she? Not tonight, not after Anita had promised she'd spend the whole day with Dawn!
"We've talked about that, the file's in my-- No, I don't mind if you go into my office, but--" Anita rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not trying to get you off the phone. Hold on." Anita covered the phone's mouthpiece. "I'll be a few minutes, Larry has some questions about work."
"But you'll come back?" Dawn asked.
"Of course I will." Anita leaned over the table and kissed the top of Dawn's head. "See if you can keep Nathaniel and Micah out of trouble while I'm in the hall, okay?" She got to her feet and headed into the kitchen.
Dawn giggled at the thought of her being in charge of Nathaniel and Micah. "Do you often get in trouble when Anita's on the phone?" she asked, leaning against Nathaniel.
"No, I don't," Nathaniel said. He smiled down at her. "I think I need a little more help with the proper way to work on a puzzle, though."
"Okay." Dawn examined the orphaned pieces and carefully selected one for Nathaniel. "This looks like a good one."
"Thank you." After some silent contemplation, Nathaniel pressed the piece into place. "You're right, that does work well."
"Of course it does," Dawn beamed. "Keep on it, we're almost done."
Nathaniel accepted the next puzzle piece without a word. Dawn went back to blue and white patterned clouds. It was the hardest part of the puzzle, but Dawn had always loved putting the sky back together again.
"Can I ask you a question?" Nathaniel said after a few minutes.
"Yes, and you can ask another one too."
Nathaniel hesitated, then went on. "How are you feeling?"
Across the room, Micah lowered his papers.
"A little bit better," Dawn confessed. "Now I'm only moderately mortified about my behavior this morning."
Nathaniel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's better than being horribly humiliated, isn't it?" Dawn said in what she hoped was a philosophical tone of voice. Nathaniel just looked at her. "Absolutely appalled?" She wracked her brain for any more alliterative adjectives, and finding none, closed her mouth and gave a nod.
"That's not what I meant," Nathaniel said softly.
"But it's true," Dawn insisted. "I had a total temper tantrum because I thought Anita wasn't going to protect me." Dawn looked very hard at the puzzle piece in her hand. "It's just hard to be this little and need people to protect me." Why she was saying all these things to Nathaniel, she didn't know, but there the words were, out in the open. Dawn let the puzzle piece fall to the table and she leaned harder against Nathaniel. "I'm not always going to be this helpless, am I?"
Nathaniel carefully put his arm around Dawn's thin shoulders. "Adults are supposed to protect children, Dawn, that's not something you need to worry about."
"But they didn't protect you," Dawn said before she thought.
Nathaniel swallowed hard, but his voice was steady when he responded. "They should have. You don't need to worry about being safe. Anita and Micah and me, we're going to protect you. That's what families do."
Dawn looked over Nathaniel's shoulder at Micah. His face was completely blank, but he leaned forward. "Nathaniel's right, Dawn. There's nothing you could do to make us stop protecting you."
It was an echo of his words the previous night, and Dawn felt the little knot of tension in her stomach start to loosen. That only left Anita, and Anita had already promised to keep her safe forever.
"Okay," Dawn said. Feeling almost giddy, she leaned over and smacked a big kiss against Nathaniel's cheek. "More puzzle, then, or no one gets any dinner!"
Nathaniel let her scurry around the edge of the table, smiling as she went, but the smile never reached his eyes.
By the time Anita came back into the room, Dawn had finished the sky, and was helping Nathaniel with the windmill. "What took you so long?" Dawn demanded. "We have some very important puzzling to do."
"Just work," Anita said. "Sorry."
"Was it about zombies?" Dawn asked, perking up. "Can you tell me about it?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Dawn stuck out her lower lip. "Pretty please with undead sugar-plums on top?"
The expression that crossed Anita's face made Dawn giggle. "Absolutely not. In any way, shape or form. Never. No zombies."
It was hard to pout while giggling, but Dawn attempted it. "Then you can tell me about vampires instead?"
Anita threw up her hands. "Micah, help me!" she called across the room.
Micah raised his eyebrows. "I think you can handle this one on your own," he said calmly.
"Oh, tell me about zombies fighting vampires!"
Anita closed her eyes. "How about we talk about dinner instead?"
"Sure, you can tell me about zombies and vampires while we make dinner," Dawn beamed. "Come on, we're almost done the puzzle!"
Indeed, Nathaniel had continued working while Dawn argued with Anita, and they were down to the final ten pieces. Dawn let Anita help her with the remaining pieces, setting them into place with a sense of accomplishment.
"There!" Dawn exclaimed as she pressed the very last piece in place. "We totally win!"
"Very nice," Anita said. She caught Dawn as the girl jumped into her arms. "An excellent idea, if I may say so."
Dawn squeezed Anita tightly, then slipped off her lap and ran across the room to the couch. Micah had turned on a lamp after the sun had set, and the light coated the room with cheerful warmth. "Next time, will you help us to?" Dawn asked Micah.
He nodded. "Next time."
"In the meantime," Anita said, "How about you go get that book we were reading this morning? We can read some more of it while Nathaniel makes dinner."
"Okay!" Dawn ran towards the stairs and up to her room, turning on the lights as she went. The early dusk had coated the hall and rooms with shadows, but Dawn wasn't going to think about that right now. She wasn't sleeping and nightmares couldn't get to you when you were awake. At least not when you didn't live on a Hellmouth.
The burst of energy tapered off by the time Dawn made it to her room. More than a little exhausted, Dawn turned on the bedroom light and made her way across the carpet to the desk. She pushed aside her journal, which had lain untouched for weeks, to take up the storybook Nathaniel had given her for Christmas.
It might have been childish to like Anita to read to her, but Dawn didn't care. Anita was good at reading stories and it meant that Dawn could spend time with her. Besides, people didn't read stories to children they didn't like. It made Dawn feel good inside. Like it had when Mom had read her stories.
Dawn stood looking at the book in her hands, then set it carefully back on the desk and opened her journal. She flipped past blank pages until she was in the middle of the book, and only then uncapped her pen.
Dear Mom
Her hand shook, but she didn't stop.
I guess I can write to you too, even though you're dead and Buffy isn't dead. I miss you lots. More than I can say. If there's a heaven, you're there and that's good, but I still miss you and wish you weren't dead.
I'm not dead either. Anita said she'd keep me safe. She's not Buffy but she's just as strong (except not really but it doesn't count) and smart, and she never yells at me when I make a mess or bump into things. She said that even though I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to you, you know I meant it because you're my Mom and you know I love you and I'll always love you, even when I'm dead.
Dawn stared at those last two words. Her stomach twisted back into that horrible knot, and suddenly she didn't want to be doing this anymore.
If you're watching me from heaven, you'll read this and know I love you. And you can forget that I said some bad words the other day when I walked into that door. I was having a trying day.
Love you and miss you always,
Dawn.
The ringing doorbell startled Dawn badly. She quickly capped her pen and, leaving her diary open so the ink could dry, grabbed the storybook and crept across the floor to the door.
Low, indecipherable voices drifted up the stairs to Dawn, but she didn't recognize the speakers.
Then Anita said something, sounding annoyed, but still Dawn couldn't understand the words.
The voices moved deeper into the house. Wondering who on earth had interrupted their quiet at-home evening, Dawn tip-toed down the stairs and along the hall until she got to the kitchen door, and looked around the edge of the doorframe.
Glory stood in the middle of the kitchen.
The world went grey and fuzzy around the edges as Dawn forgot how to breathe, how to run away, forgot everything except how to be afraid. Glory's golden hair was the only thing Dawn could see, rippling down her back over strange clothes.
Then Glory turned, and it wasn't Glory at all, it was Ben, with his wide shoulders and long arms and big hands that had held her in place and had threatened to hurt her so much, to kill her just because.
Then Dawn saw Ben's face, and it wasn't Ben at all, it was a stranger with ice-blue eyes and hair like Glory and hands like Ben and he was smiling and his teeth were sharp, so sharp, and he was moving towards her and Dawn dropped the book and ran away as fast and as hard as she could.
She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away, had to hide so the stranger with Glory's hair and Ben's hands couldn't find her and eat her up with his sharp teeth. She burst through a door and was in the darkness, and the floor dropped off and she stumbled down the stairs, stumbled into the dark and the shadows, but the shadows couldn't hurt her, not now. The man who wasn't Glory and wasn't Ben, he was the one who could hurt her, just like Ben and Glory had.
The stairs ended abruptly and Dawn fell to the cold concrete floor, banging her elbows and chin. She scrambled to her feet again. She had to keep moving, she had to hide.
Someone loomed up before her in the dark, and Dawn shrieked before she realized it was just a coat rack. She ducked around it and went deeper into the basement. Behind boxes, behind shelves, until Dawn ran out of places to go. She squeezed herself between a large trunk and the cold wall, scratching her arm in the process, and curled into a tiny ball.
She had to stay quiet and hidden so no one could find her, so she'd be safe from the stranger who wasn't Glory and who wasn't Ben but would eat her up with his sharp teeth.
Quiet.
Dawn shook so hard her teeth rattled. Could he hear her shaking? Could he hear her breathing in the dark? Would he find her?
The overhead lights went on. Dawn bit into her knee to keep from screaming and screaming. He was coming to find her and there was nowhere left for her to run.
"Dawn?"
It was Anita. Dawn wanted to scream at her to run, to hide from the man with the ice-cold eyes and sharp teeth, but she couldn't breathe over the fear cramping her stomach.
"Dawn, where are you?" Anita stepped over boxes on her way to Dawn. "What's wrong?" she asked as she knelt in front of Dawn.
Anita had said she would protect Dawn from anything, and Dawn couldn't do anything less for her. Without a second thought, Dawn unfolded herself and got to her feet, tugging on Anita's arm. "We have to go!" she said in a shaky whisper. "Before he finds us, we have to go!"
"Before who finds us?" Anita tried to pull Dawn into her arms, but Dawn wriggled away.
"There's no time, we have to go now!" Dawn dug her nails into Anita's skin and tried to physically drag the woman towards the high window in the basement wall. "He's going to find us and eat us and we have to go!"
Anita twisted her arm out of Dawn's grip. "What are you talking about?" Anita demanded, fear very unlike Dawn's in her voice.
"The man! He had hair like Glory and he's big like Ben and he has big sharp teeth and he's coming after us!" Dawn turned and ran for the window. If Anita wasn't going to help her, she'd climb out the window and run away into the night all on her own. Maybe then Anita would follow and be safe.
Anita caught Dawn around the waist and lifted her into the air. Dawn turned and thrashed, but it didn't make any difference. "Are you talking about Asher?" Anita asked, carrying Dawn away from the boxes and the promised exit of the window. "Asher is a vampire but he would never do anything to hurt you, not ever! He came over here with Jean-Claude to make sure I was okay, he'd never harm you!"
Dawn kept fighting. "He's not harmless!" Dawn shrieked. "Everyone thought Ben was harmless and he was Glory and Glory was Ben and they made everyone crazy and they were going to kill me so Glory could be a god again! Let me go!"
Cold, stark astonishment and panic washed over Dawn, catching her totally off-guard. She stopped struggling as Anita stumbled, ending up on the floor, Dawn still held tight in her arms. "What did you say?" Anita demanded as she turned Dawn around to look at her. "Who tried to kill you?"
"Glory and Ben!" Dawn started shaking again. "The monks made me into a person and made me Buffy's sister so she would protect me from Glory, but we didn't know that Ben was Glory and they got me and they had to kill me so Glory could be a god again and Ben could be a boy again!" All the lies Dawn had been telling, all the half-truths washed away in the face of her terror. "And they got me and tied me up and Doc cut me up so my blood could open a portal so Glory could go home and it did! The portal opened and dragons and demons came out and I had to jump to make it stop and I did! I jumped really far and fell into the cemetery and you found me but I wasn't me, I was five and not fifteen!"
Dawn had never seen Anita look so pale. "Dawn, it's okay," Anita said, touching Dawn's face with a shaking hand. "You're safe here--"
"I'm not safe!" Dawn shouted, no longer heeding the danger of near-by dangers. "The man upstairs with the sharp teeth, he's got hair like Glory!" To Dawn, it made perfect sense, and she didn't understand why Anita kept shaking her head.
"Asher would never hurt you," Anita said forcefully. "I will never let anything hurt you, not ever again. Do you understand?"
Dawn shook her head. "You don't understand! If Glory can find her way to this dimension, she'll try again! She'll cut me again and use my blood to open a gateway to a hell-dimension!"
Anita opened her mouth, but couldn't speak.
Dawn struggled free of Anita's grip. "I'm not really a girl," Dawn said between chattering teeth. Anita had to know the full truth now, there was no going back. "I used to be a big ball of energy that could open portals to hell, but then the monks made me into Buffy's teenage sister so Glory wouldn't find me, but it didn't work and Glory found me! Mom was dead and Buffy tried but she couldn't protect me, and now I'm here but I'm supposed to be dead and now I'm five!" Anita held out her hands, but Dawn danced back just out of reach. "Do you believe me? You have to believe me!"
"Dawn." Anita took hold of Dawn's arms with a gentle but firm pressure. "You need to listen to me. No matter what has happened before, you are safe here. I will die before I let anyone hurt you again, do you understand?"
Anita's anger rushed hot over Dawn, taking away her words and her protestations. She didn't know if Anita believed her or not, and she didn't know how to prove it to her, not anymore. She'd thought that if she told the truth, about everything, that Anita would have to believe her.
Why hadn't Anita believed her? Had she said it wrong? She tried to remember all the things she'd said, but Anita's fury overwhelmed everything in Dawn's head.
"That man..." Dawn managed to say, around the flood of emotions.
"Asher?" Anita supplied.
Dawn nodded. "He's not Glory?"
"No, he's not." Anita was still deathly pale, but her anger was starting to receded from Dawn's head. "He and Jean-Claude are old friends. Asher is a vampire, like Jean-Claude."
Dawn turned her head in the direction of the stairs. "But he had golden hair, and sharp-- sharp teeth," Dawn said with a hiccup.
"Yes, he does, but he's just the same as Jean-Claude." Anita shifted closer on the ground until her arms encircled Dawn in an almost-hug. "You're not afraid of Jean-Claude."
"No," Dawn whispered. "Jean-Claude's like Spike."
"Spike?"
"Spike is-- was, our vampire. He's all creepy but he won't hurt me." Dawn pressed her fingers against the bleeding scrape on her arm, making it hurt, until Anita took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away from the wound. "He called me 'Nibblet' and 'Platelet' but he never even pretended to bite me and he got up the tower to try and save me from Doc and Glory but Doc stabbed him really bad and he fell all the way to the ground and I don't know if he's dead. I mean, really dead."
"I'm sure he's fine," Anita said soothingly. "Vampires are very tough creatures."
Dawn nodded. "That's what he said, he was all tough and mean and scary. But he didn't scare me, not really."
"Good."
Dawn nestled closer to Anita. "Is Asher like Spike? Is he tough and mean and scary?"
Anita let out a slow breath. "Asher is tough and I'm sure he can be scary to his enemies, but he's not mean. And he won't scare you."
Dawn considered this. "And he won't try to eat me?"
"No, he won't try to eat you," Anita said quickly.
"Oh." Dawn rested her forehead against Anita's cheek for a minute. "Then I have to go meet him."
"I don't know if that's a good idea--"
"But it is!" Dawn argued before she lost her nerve. "I met Damian and he wasn't scary even though I thought he killed Nathaniel and that he'd try to kill me, and after I met him he wasn't scary and I didn't have a single nightmare about him, I promise!"
Anita patted Dawn's back. She was quiet, but not like she was thinking. She was quiet in the same way she was quiet when she was thinking thoughts to Nathaniel; quiet whispers too faint on the air for Dawn to hear.
Then Anita stood up, taking Dawn with her. "You need to let me know if you get scared or anything," Anita said as she skirted the mess on the floor. "And remember, you're perfectly safe with me and with everyone upstairs."
"I remember." Still, as Anita mounted the stairs, Dawn's limbs grew tight and the air grew thin again. Dawn dug her fingers into Anita's shirt, holding tight.
The kitchen was silent when Anita and Dawn came through the basement door. Dawn knew that Micah and Nathaniel and Jean-Claude were all there, but all she could see was the tall man with the ice-blue eyes and the sharp teeth.
Asher.
Dawn's arms went around Anita's neck as if Anita was the last solid thing in the universe, and maybe she was.
"Dawn, this is Asher," Anita said softly.
Dawn could only stare. Even knowing that Asher wasn't Glory and he wasn't Ben, thoughts of them crowded in and around Dawn's mind, twisting danger from every angle.
"Bon soir, Dawn." Asher stared back at Dawn. His golden hair hung over one side of his face, hiding one blue eye. He was tall, taller than Jean-Claude beside him, with wide shoulders and big hands like Ben's.
"Hi," Dawn breathed. She stared some more. "Are you a doctor?"
Asher's expression never changed, but something made Dawn think she'd surprised him. The tension eased a little. If he was Glory, he wouldn't be confused, and he wouldn't staring back at her. He'd have ripped her out of Anita's arms and torn her open by now.
"Non, I am not a doctor," Asher said. His voice was silky and French and all the things Spike's voice had never been. "Nor am I a lawyer or an Indian chief."
"Asher!" Anita chided, but Dawn had to smile. Just a little.
"I saw a picture of you in Jean-Claude's cave," Dawn offered. "With him and a lady. You had a beard and a hat."
"I do faintly recall seeing the picture," Asher said, sarcasm coating his words, and that was so much like Spike that Dawn felt a little better.
"Why is your hair in front of your face?" she asked.
Asher went impossibly still, then he raised his hand and swept the hair back from his face, even as Anita and Micah were suddenly both speaking at the same time. The hidden side of Asher's face looked unreal, as if the skin had melted like candle wax. "This is why," he ground out.
Dawn had seen worse on demons at the Hellmouth, and she didn't flinch. "How'd that happen?" she asked, curious. "Did it hurt?"
"Holy water," Asher said. He raised his eyebrow as Anita swung around, putting herself between vampire and Dawn. "Oui, cherie?"
"Get out," Anita snapped. "Now, the both of you, just get out!"
"Ma petite..." Jean-Claude tried to say, but Anita shook her head.
"Asher can say whatever the hell he wants, but he did that to scare Dawn! I want you both gone!"
"But that didn't scare the little one, did it?" Asher took a step forward, but Jean-Claude grabbed his arm in a motion too quick for Dawn to follow.
Nathaniel pulled Dawn out of Anita's arms as Anita moved across the kitchen to stand right in front of Asher. "Whatever problems you have with me, you take them up with me, and not Dawn!"
Asher didn't move, but suddenly he was too close to Anita. "You asked me to stay, Anita, while you spoke with the child. Remember that."
"We will leave now, ma petite," Jean-Claude said. Power rushed around the room, prickly along Dawn's skin. "Asher."
With aching slowness, Asher stepped away from Anita. "As always, Anita, it has been an enchanting evening," he said. If the whole mood wasn't so deadly serious, Dawn might have laughed.
As Asher turned to leave, Dawn piped up, "I'm sorry you got hurt with holy water."
Asher looked back at her, hard, and Dawn quickly buried her face in Nathaniel's sleeve. He wasn't really like Spike, not really, and Dawn wasn't sure she liked him at all.
Then the vampires were gone.
Anita turned on her heel and came back across the kitchen, scooping Dawn back into her arms and holding her tight as she walked down the hall to the master bathroom. Nathaniel and Micah followed her, but Anita paid them no mind. "Are you all right?" she asked Dawn.
Dawn nodded once.
Anita set Dawn on the counter and began to rummage around. "Then let's look after that scrape, okay?"
"Anita..." Micah said.
Anita didn't seem to hear him. "And then we'll get some dinner, how does that sound?"
Micah grabbed Anita's arm before Dawn could think of responding. "Anita."
"Look, I'm--" Anita began, but Micah's fingers tightened on her wrist.
"We'll talk about this later," he said warningly. "I want to make sure Dawn's okay."
The bathroom was white and shiny, no hiding spots for any kind of danger, but the temporary reprieve of meeting Asher was beginning to fade. Even though there was no place for Glory to hide, the false sense of security that had lulled Dawn to sleep for months was gone.
What if Glory came for her one day?
"I'm fine," Dawn said automatically. Once Anita was done bandaging her arm, she let the woman lift her up once more.
The adults were talking, but not to Dawn, and so it didn't matter. What did matter was that Anita hadn't believed Dawn when Dawn had told her the truth about everything. Dawn didn't know what else she could do if Glory came for her, one day.
She shifted around in Anita's arms and put her thumb in her mouth. She might have been physically in St. Louis, but all she could think about was that last night in Sunnydale, when Glory and Ben tried to kill her, and Buffy hadn't been able to protect her after all.
to be continued
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake crossover
Chapter Twelve: Bad Girl
by Mhalachai
Summary: Dawn fell from Glory's tower and into the portal. Now she's all alone and scared... but sometimes family comes from the strangest places.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Anita Blake belongs to Laurell K. Hamilton. No profit has been made from this fic, and the only benefit to me is personal satisfaction and the creative process. I hope you enjoy.
Rating: PG
Words: 8,210
Spoilers: Danse Macabre only, nothing from subsequent books.
Note: So it's been about six months. Um, yeah. This chapter is a belated thank you to the lovely hsifyppah for the user time :) In this chapter, we go up, we go down... who knows where we will end up?
Setting: This little episode takes place after Christmas (Chapter 11) and after the Dawning Light outtake, Check Mate. That one, written back on Dec. 23rd, 2006, has some lovely foreshadowing for this chapter. You may want to read it first. Go on, we'll wait.
Previous parts here
~~~~~
Dawn stared at the clock. Two o'clock in the morning, and she refused to go to sleep. If she slept, she would dream, and she didn't know if she could take another night of horrible, violent nightmares.
The nightmares had been growing in force and severity since Christmas, over a month before. On some nights she was fine. But on the other nights...
Sinking lower under the covers, Dawn clung to Sigmund and Augustine and wished she could get warm, wished she didn't feel so tired. She missed Sunnydale so bad, with its warm weather even in the winter time, and how Mom would always make sure Dawn was tucked in, and Buffy...
Dawn buried her face in Sigmund's belly. Thinking of Buffy brought back all those horrible nightmares, of sharp knives and broken glass and falling, always falling. When Dawn was lucky, she'd wake up before she got cold, but if it was like last night, she'd wander around in her dreams forever, frozen and hurting, then wake up to find she'd kicked the covers to the floor again.
All of which could be prevented if Dawn never went to sleep again.
There were other things, hiding in the shadows of her room, ideas with sharp teeth and claws whispering over the carpet, but Dawn would not, could not, think about them. It was far better to be cold than to turn into that, to be like that.
Out in the hallway, a floorboard creaked. Terror ran down Dawn's spine. Something was in the hallway. Something was coming for her.
The doorknob turned soundlessly and the door began to open.
A whimper slipped out from between Dawn's lips as she clenched Sigmund tight in her arms. It was like another one of her nightmares, but she was already wide awake and she'd never be able to escape.
The door opened all the way and someone entered the room. It was Micah. "Dawn?" he called softly. "Are you okay? I heard you moving around."
Dawn didn't move. It might be a trick. One of the creatures in the shadows, with sharp teeth and claws, might be pretending to be Micah until it got close and then it would eat her up, toes and all.
Micah switched on the bedside lamp, making Dawn blink in the sudden illumination. "Dawn, why aren't you asleep?" he asked. "It's two in the morning."
Dawn buried her face in her pillow. It wasn't a monster come to eat her up or slice her to pieces or rip her to shreds. It was just Micah. Micah would never hurt her.
Right?
The bed shifted slightly. Dawn glanced up to see that Micah had sat on the edge of the mattress. He pulled the covers up over Dawn's shoulders. "Did you have another nightmare?" Micah asked.
Dawn shook her head. She hadn't, not really, not that night. The memory of weeks of nightmares didn't really count.
"How long have you been awake?" Micah was looking at her with worried eyes.
"Why do you care?" Dawn asked, curling up into a ball under the quilt.
Micah frowned slightly. "Why would you ask something like that?"
Dawn pried one hand off Sigmund and scratched at the sheet. Part of her didn't understand why her nails didn't slice through the cotton. "Just because."
Micah was silent for a very long time. "Would you have asked Anita that question?"
The mention of Anita made Dawn's stomach twist. Part of the nightmare, not the one about cold, but the other, was about Anita.
Dawn pushed those thoughts away. "Anita's supposed to ask me questions like that."
"What about Nathaniel?"
Dawn reached out and pulled Augustine closer until his soft white head was underneath her chin. "I dunno."
Micah rested his elbows on his knees and let out a very sad-sounding breath. Dawn realized he was still in his street clothes. He must have just gotten home from work. "Dawn, you said your dad left your mom just after you were born?"
Dawn rubbed Augustine's nose with her thumb while she tried to think. Was that what she had said about Hank Summers? She couldn't remember her own lies any more. "I guess. But they do, right? Leave?"
"What do?"
"Dads."
Micah blinked. "Just because your father left--"
"Everyone's did." Dawn struggled out from under the covers and knocked Augustine to the side. "My dad went away because Buffy was bad, so did Angel and Riley and everyone! Willow's parents never stayed around because they didn't care. Xander's dad should have gone away but he didn't so he hit Xander instead." She frowned. "Tara's dad told her she was a demon and treated her really bad until she ran away to go to school and he followed her and was going to take her back by force until Buffy threatened to hurt him hardcore."
A muscle in Micah's clenched jaw twitched. "That's not the way it's supposed to happen," he said after a minute. "Dads can care about their kids as much as moms do."
Dawn shivered slightly against the cold. "Maybe." She picked at the sheet covering her lap. "But even Anita doesn't think so."
"What do you mean?"
"Anita doesn't talk to her dad because she thinks he thinks she's bad or something 'cause he got married again and had another family and he wouldn't do that if Anita was good enough."
Micah went still. "Did Anita--" He cut himself off. "Did you hear that from Anita?"
Dawn didn't answer. Truthfully, she had no idea why she knew that about Anita. Even thinking about Anita made Dawn's stomach roil until she wanted to throw up.
"That's not what happened with Anita's father," Micah went on. "He married again after Anita's mother died, but it wasn't to replace anyone. It certainly wasn't because Anita was bad."
"You're not listening!" Dawn exclaimed. She threw Sigmund hard at Micah. "Dads go away because we're bad! They don't care! Hank left 'cause Buffy and I were bad girls and Anita's dad had another family because Anita is bad!"
"You are not a bad girl!" Micah said firmly. "And neither is Anita, where is this coming from?"
He tried to touch Dawn's shoulder, but she hit out at him. She missed, and it made her to angry, so she hit out again, and again, this time making contact with Micah's arm.
All the frustration and anger and cold overwhelmed Dawn. She kept punching at Micah with all of her strength, and he didn't respond at all, just let Dawn hit him.
Instead of releasing her rage, Dawn grew angrier and angrier. She didn't know what she was doing and she couldn't stop, she was so cold and so tired and so scared of being bad that everyone would push her away.
Finally, Micah took hold of Dawn's flailing fists. She tried to keep hitting him, herself, anything, but Micah held her firm. Pulling the blanket off the end of the bed, Micah wrapped Dawn up in the soft blue cloth. He stood up with her in his arms and walked around the room as she tried to breathe normally.
Eventually, Dawn's sniffles died down, and she was left tired and cold and sick to her stomach.
"You're not a bad girl," Micah told her as he stopped by the window. He pulled back the curtain so they could look out at the clear night. "Why did you think that?"
Dawn wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Just because."
"There's usually a reason why," Micah pressed. "Did someone tell you something?"
"No," Dawn whispered.
"Did you hear something on television or read something in a book?"
Dawn shook her head. The half moon was low on the horizon, almost hidden by the trees of the park down the block. Something about the moon made Dawn feel even worse.
"You don't have to talk about it, but we want to help you, you know that? All of us, me and Nathaniel and Anita."
"Not Anita," Dawn whispered before she could hold back the words.
"Yes, Anita," Micah said. He shifted Dawn higher. "Anita loves you and she would do anything in the world to help you."
Sour bile rose in Dawn's throat as tattered scraps of nightmares chased each other around in the shadows of her mind. "She shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"I... I'm a bad person."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because." Wind whistled cold on the other side of the glass, and Dawn wished she could be out there, cold and alone, instead of telling Micah how bad she really was. "I have dreams."
"What happens in the dreams?"
The shadows outside moved on the snow, hiding the snickety-snack of teeth and claws. "I hurt people."
"Who do you hurt?"
Blood in her mouth, blood on her hands. "The bad people. Anita. And Buffy."
Dawn was shaking now, certain that Micah would make her go away, out into the dark and the cold. How could he not, after what she had dreamed?
"Why are Anita and your sister bad in your dreams?"
But Dawn couldn't answer. Micah wrapped her up tighter in the blanket and patted her back as he started walking in circles again.
"Do you want a glass of water?" Micah asked after a little while.
Dawn, who had been alternating trying to stay awake and not throwing up, shook her head. "I don't feel good," she confessed.
Micah put his hand on her forehead. "You're a little flushed," he said. "You might be coming down with something. How does your throat feel? How about your stomach?"
Dawn squirmed. "My tummy feels bad," she confessed reluctantly. "Like I'm gonna throw up."
"I can understand that," Micah told her. "How about we go get you a drink from the kitchen?"
Dawn sniffled mightily, blinking hard to stay awake. "Okay," she whispered. "That might be okay."
Micah carried Dawn out into the darkened hallway and down the stairs. The house was strange this late at night, all silence and dark and still, as if no one lived there at all. Dawn clung to Micah's shoulder as he walked through the house. Could he feel how sad the house was?
In the kitchen, Micah turned on the tiny glowing lights over the island. He placed Dawn on the counter, still wrapped up in the blanket, before going to the fridge.
Dawn watched his every move. Nothing made any sense, and she couldn't even think where to begin trying to figure it out. Her stomach hurt too much.
When Micah returned, he was carrying a small glass of ginger ale. "This should help your stomach," he told her.
Dawn shook her head. "There's too many bubbles."
Micah almost smiled. "How about this?" He shook the glass gently, so all the bubbles rose to the top and popped. He passed the glass to Dawn and waited while she took her first sip. It was nice and sweet, just like it was supposed to be.
She took another sip.
"You don't have to tell me about your dreams if you don't want to," Micah said as Dawn nursed the ginger ale. "But sometimes talking about bad dreams makes them less scary."
"This won't," Dawn muttered between swallows.
"You won't know until you try." Micah paused, waiting for Dawn to speak.
She finished off her drink and handed the glass back to Micah. He put it in the sink, and waited some more. The kitchen looked almost normal, but the house felt so very sad in the dark. Maybe Micah was right. Maybe Dawn would feel better if she talked about her dreams.
She took a deep breath. "Do you ever have dreams like you're a wolf and you're chasing bad people and then you catch them and hurt them but then it's not like they're the bad one but you are but it's too late and you can't take it back?"
Micah took in the words without visible reaction. "Are you dreaming that you're a wolf?"
Dawn nodded miserably.
"And in these dreams, you hurt Anita and Buffy?"
Feeling even worse than before, Dawn nodded again.
"Why are they bad? In your dreams?"
Dawn lowered her head. "They just are."
"Do you remember why you think they are bad?"
Answers swirled in the shadows, just within reach. "Anita didn't protect me like she was supposed to, so I ate her up while she was screaming," Dawn whispered. She hunched in on herself as the swirling upset in her stomach got faster and hurt even more.
"Did Buffy do something similar?" Micah asked.
Dawn couldn't even shake her head. "Buffy let Glory take me and she couldn't save me."
Micah pushed the hair back from Dawn's forehead. "Who's Glory?" he asked.
Dawn's mind skittered away from thoughts of Glory, away from the tower and Ben and the dress and the knives and of falling. She reached up and put her arms around Micah's neck, clinging to him as tightly to him as she could.
She heard him sigh. "You didn't do anything wrong by having nightmares," he told her. Dawn only held on tighter. Micah picked her up, blanket and all. "Sometimes we have nightmares because there are things we need to deal with, things that scare us when we're awake, that our minds need to deal with when we're asleep."
Was Dawn imagining it, or did the house give a sad, tearful sigh?
"You have to know that Anita would do anything to protect you, same with Nathaniel and myself. From anything at all."
"But what if I was bad?" Dawn asked, voice muffled by Micah's shoulder.
"You could never do anything bad enough to make us stop protecting you," Micah told her. "Nothing at all."
Dawn dug her fingers into Micah's shirt. He might say that now, but he didn't know. He didn't know that she was the reason everyone back in Sunnydale got hurt, that she was the reason Richard was so mad at Anita.
They didn't know she'd been lying to them since the day she met them all.
More importantly, what would they do to her when they found out?
~~~
Dawn glared at her toast. Stupid breakfast. Stupid morning. Stupid Nathaniel, waking her up at the crack of ten o'clock.
Everything sucked.
Across the table, Anita opened her mouth to speak, but let out her breath without saying a thing. She had been doing that for a while now, and it was starting to annoy Dawn.
Dawn picked at the toast again, wondering what Nathaniel would say if she just licked off the peanut butter and left the bread on her plate.
"Dawn?"
Great. Now Anita wanted to talk. Dawn didn't look up.
"Dawn, if... if you want to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you can," Anita said quietly. At the words, Nathaniel stopped washing dishes and rested his hands on the edge of the sink.
"Don't have anything to say," Dawn said crossly. She shoved her plate away from her so hard it knocked into the salt shaker.
"But if you want to--"
"I don't want to talk to anyone!" Dawn shrieked. "Leave me alone!" She jumped down from her chair and ran into the hallway, knocking into Micah as she went. She kept going, down the hall and into the living room.
The morning sun shone into the room with an annoying cheerfulness. Dawn jumped onto the couch and buried her face in one of the cushions. The fabric was too scratchy on her face, so she squirmed around to a sitting position. She punched the offending cushion for good measure.
Why won't they leave me alone? Dawn thought furiously. All they want to talk about what I told Micah last night! Stupid nightmares and stupid Micah and stupid Anita... Dawn ran out of things to mentally trash, and so she kicked at the couch cushions for good measure.
Part of her expected one of the adults to come see how she was. That's what they always did when she ran off like that. Micah or Nathaniel or Anita, sometimes all three of them, would come sit with her and they'd talk about stuff.
But Dawn had just told Anita she didn't want to talk to any of them.
Dawn's stomach squirmed, like worms in the mud. The sensation had nothing to do with her nightmares and that made it so much worse. She had told Anita she didn't want anything to do with them, and now none of the adults had come to see how she was doing. And all this after she'd told Micah what kinds of bad things she dreamed about doing to Anita.
Maybe they'd realized that she was a bad girl after all, and that they didn't want her living in their house.
It was getting hard to breathe, like there wasn't enough air or something.
If they didn't want Dawn in their house because she was a bad girl, where was she going to go? She didn't have anybody in this world but Anita and Micah and Nathaniel. They were the only ones who wanted anything to do with her, and she was having nightmares where she was doing bad things to them.
What was she going to do if they didn't want her anymore?
Who was going to protect her if Anita didn't?
Dawn slipped off the couch. Her foot slipped on the carpet and she stumbled. She was distantly aware that she was shaking, but it didn't matter. If Anita didn't want to protect Dawn anymore, nothing mattered.
The walk back to the kitchen took a long time. Voices drifted out of the room, but Dawn couldn't hear them over the mess in her head.
Finally, Dawn peeked around the doorframe. Anita was bent over her coffee cup, Nathaniel sitting next to her and Micah by the basement door. No one looked at Dawn. Maybe they were pretending that she was already gone.
Dawn edged into the room.
Anita was the first to notice her. "Dawn? What's wrong?"
Dawn stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched in her throat, like a stutter, but she couldn't get in any air.
Anita was out of her chair in an instant and at Dawn's side. Dawn flung her arms around Anita's waist and hung on for dear life. "Don't make me leave," she managed to squeeze out.
Anita pried Dawn's arms loose and knelt down. "No one's going to make you leave, why are you saying that?" Anita demanded as she gathered Dawn up in a hug.
Dawn wrapped her arms tight around Anita's neck. "'Cause I had bad dreams," Dawn wailed, her voice muffled by Anita's collar. "'Cause I'm bad."
Anita ran her hand over Dawn's hair, holding her so tight. "You are not bad," Anita said with feeling. "And we will never let you leave." Her voice was thick with tears. "You're going to stay right here with us where you belong, do you understand?" She kissed the side of Dawn's head. "You belong here."
Dawn clung to Anita as she had clung to Micah the night before; as if the world would end if she let go. "But I dreamed--"
"It doesn't matter what you dreamed," Anita said. "Dreams don't mean anything. You're safe here, I promise." She hesitated. "I'll do anything to keep you safe."
Dawn buried her face in Anita's shirt, holding on with all her might. She stayed there as Anita stood up, carrying Dawn over to the table and sitting back in her chair. Dawn knew Micah and Nathaniel were still in the room, but all that mattered was that Anita wasn't going to throw her out into the snow.
Anita had promised to protect her forever.
"I'm going to stay here with you today," Anita said after a few minutes. "Would that be okay? We could play cards or watch a movie or something. We don't have to talk unless you want to."
The idea of spending a whole day with Anita sounded really good to Dawn. She nodded against Anita's shoulder.
"Good." Anita rubbed circles on Dawn's back. "Micah, can you call Jean-Claude and tell him that I'm going to have to cancel our plans for tonight?"
"Of course," Micah said.
Someone pulled a chair over beside Anita and sat down. Nathaniel, Dawn knew without looking up. "Maybe I can make something else for breakfast?" he asked Anita. "Anything at all. Or maybe I can make lunch. It's almost lunchtime."
"Maybe in a little bit," Anita replied. "Maybe give us a few minutes to gather our thoughts?"
Dawn turned her head just enough so she could see Nathaniel. "Thank you," she whispered.
Nathaniel smiled and touched Dawn's arm. "Any time," he said. "Let me know if you need anything."
Dawn nodded.
"That goes for any of us," Anita whispered in Dawn's hair. "If you need anything at all. We're here for you, whatever you need."
It was funny, but when Anita said it like that, Dawn could almost believe her.
~~~
"You're doing it wrong."
Nathaniel raised his eyes from the half-assembled puzzle. "What should I be doing?"
Dawn shuffled around the coffee table to his side. She took the puzzle piece from his fingers. "You got to build the puzzle from the edges in, not the middle out. Otherwise you end up with a headache and broken door knobs."
Across the table, Anita looked up. "Broken door knobs?" she echoed.
"Yeah, because the puzzle takes forever and you get all frustrated and then you try to leave the room but the door knob doesn't work 'cause it never really did and it breaks off in your hand and you're stuck forever with an impossible puzzle and no way out." Dawn handed Nathaniel another piece of the puzzle. "This one goes on the side, see?"
Anita glanced over at Micah, seated on the couch with a pile of bills, then back to Dawn. "Is that a hypothetical example or a lesson well-learned?" she asked.
Dawn shrugged. "Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. We eventually got out of the room, but the puzzle sure didn't." No need to mention that Buffy's Slayer strength had been what broke the door in the first place.
In spite of Nathaniel's unfamiliarity with optimal puzzle procedure, they were half-way through the Christmas puzzle assembly. Micah had declined to play, but he was still in the room with them. In spite of the horrible start to the day, things were going really good, in Dawn's opinion. After breakfast, Anita had read a book with her, then Nathaniel let Dawn pick what they would have with lunch and even allowed her to make patterns with the pepperoni on the pizza.
Anita had promised that when they were done the puzzle, they could watch a movie while they ate dinner, if Dawn would go to bed early to make up for the lack of sleep the previous night. Dawn had pouted a little, but hadn't argued too much. She was still tired, but she told herself that she'd only agreed with Anita so Anita wouldn't feel bad about missing her date with Jean-Claude.
A few more puzzle pieces had found a home when Anita's cell phone rang. The woman flipped open the phone and lifted it to her ear. "Hello? Oh, hi Larry. What's up?"
Dawn gripped the little piece of sky so hard the sharp edges bit into her hand. Anita wouldn't have to leave, would she? Not tonight, not after Anita had promised she'd spend the whole day with Dawn!
"We've talked about that, the file's in my-- No, I don't mind if you go into my office, but--" Anita rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not trying to get you off the phone. Hold on." Anita covered the phone's mouthpiece. "I'll be a few minutes, Larry has some questions about work."
"But you'll come back?" Dawn asked.
"Of course I will." Anita leaned over the table and kissed the top of Dawn's head. "See if you can keep Nathaniel and Micah out of trouble while I'm in the hall, okay?" She got to her feet and headed into the kitchen.
Dawn giggled at the thought of her being in charge of Nathaniel and Micah. "Do you often get in trouble when Anita's on the phone?" she asked, leaning against Nathaniel.
"No, I don't," Nathaniel said. He smiled down at her. "I think I need a little more help with the proper way to work on a puzzle, though."
"Okay." Dawn examined the orphaned pieces and carefully selected one for Nathaniel. "This looks like a good one."
"Thank you." After some silent contemplation, Nathaniel pressed the piece into place. "You're right, that does work well."
"Of course it does," Dawn beamed. "Keep on it, we're almost done."
Nathaniel accepted the next puzzle piece without a word. Dawn went back to blue and white patterned clouds. It was the hardest part of the puzzle, but Dawn had always loved putting the sky back together again.
"Can I ask you a question?" Nathaniel said after a few minutes.
"Yes, and you can ask another one too."
Nathaniel hesitated, then went on. "How are you feeling?"
Across the room, Micah lowered his papers.
"A little bit better," Dawn confessed. "Now I'm only moderately mortified about my behavior this morning."
Nathaniel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's better than being horribly humiliated, isn't it?" Dawn said in what she hoped was a philosophical tone of voice. Nathaniel just looked at her. "Absolutely appalled?" She wracked her brain for any more alliterative adjectives, and finding none, closed her mouth and gave a nod.
"That's not what I meant," Nathaniel said softly.
"But it's true," Dawn insisted. "I had a total temper tantrum because I thought Anita wasn't going to protect me." Dawn looked very hard at the puzzle piece in her hand. "It's just hard to be this little and need people to protect me." Why she was saying all these things to Nathaniel, she didn't know, but there the words were, out in the open. Dawn let the puzzle piece fall to the table and she leaned harder against Nathaniel. "I'm not always going to be this helpless, am I?"
Nathaniel carefully put his arm around Dawn's thin shoulders. "Adults are supposed to protect children, Dawn, that's not something you need to worry about."
"But they didn't protect you," Dawn said before she thought.
Nathaniel swallowed hard, but his voice was steady when he responded. "They should have. You don't need to worry about being safe. Anita and Micah and me, we're going to protect you. That's what families do."
Dawn looked over Nathaniel's shoulder at Micah. His face was completely blank, but he leaned forward. "Nathaniel's right, Dawn. There's nothing you could do to make us stop protecting you."
It was an echo of his words the previous night, and Dawn felt the little knot of tension in her stomach start to loosen. That only left Anita, and Anita had already promised to keep her safe forever.
"Okay," Dawn said. Feeling almost giddy, she leaned over and smacked a big kiss against Nathaniel's cheek. "More puzzle, then, or no one gets any dinner!"
Nathaniel let her scurry around the edge of the table, smiling as she went, but the smile never reached his eyes.
By the time Anita came back into the room, Dawn had finished the sky, and was helping Nathaniel with the windmill. "What took you so long?" Dawn demanded. "We have some very important puzzling to do."
"Just work," Anita said. "Sorry."
"Was it about zombies?" Dawn asked, perking up. "Can you tell me about it?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Dawn stuck out her lower lip. "Pretty please with undead sugar-plums on top?"
The expression that crossed Anita's face made Dawn giggle. "Absolutely not. In any way, shape or form. Never. No zombies."
It was hard to pout while giggling, but Dawn attempted it. "Then you can tell me about vampires instead?"
Anita threw up her hands. "Micah, help me!" she called across the room.
Micah raised his eyebrows. "I think you can handle this one on your own," he said calmly.
"Oh, tell me about zombies fighting vampires!"
Anita closed her eyes. "How about we talk about dinner instead?"
"Sure, you can tell me about zombies and vampires while we make dinner," Dawn beamed. "Come on, we're almost done the puzzle!"
Indeed, Nathaniel had continued working while Dawn argued with Anita, and they were down to the final ten pieces. Dawn let Anita help her with the remaining pieces, setting them into place with a sense of accomplishment.
"There!" Dawn exclaimed as she pressed the very last piece in place. "We totally win!"
"Very nice," Anita said. She caught Dawn as the girl jumped into her arms. "An excellent idea, if I may say so."
Dawn squeezed Anita tightly, then slipped off her lap and ran across the room to the couch. Micah had turned on a lamp after the sun had set, and the light coated the room with cheerful warmth. "Next time, will you help us to?" Dawn asked Micah.
He nodded. "Next time."
"In the meantime," Anita said, "How about you go get that book we were reading this morning? We can read some more of it while Nathaniel makes dinner."
"Okay!" Dawn ran towards the stairs and up to her room, turning on the lights as she went. The early dusk had coated the hall and rooms with shadows, but Dawn wasn't going to think about that right now. She wasn't sleeping and nightmares couldn't get to you when you were awake. At least not when you didn't live on a Hellmouth.
The burst of energy tapered off by the time Dawn made it to her room. More than a little exhausted, Dawn turned on the bedroom light and made her way across the carpet to the desk. She pushed aside her journal, which had lain untouched for weeks, to take up the storybook Nathaniel had given her for Christmas.
It might have been childish to like Anita to read to her, but Dawn didn't care. Anita was good at reading stories and it meant that Dawn could spend time with her. Besides, people didn't read stories to children they didn't like. It made Dawn feel good inside. Like it had when Mom had read her stories.
Dawn stood looking at the book in her hands, then set it carefully back on the desk and opened her journal. She flipped past blank pages until she was in the middle of the book, and only then uncapped her pen.
Dear Mom
Her hand shook, but she didn't stop.
I guess I can write to you too, even though you're dead and Buffy isn't dead. I miss you lots. More than I can say. If there's a heaven, you're there and that's good, but I still miss you and wish you weren't dead.
I'm not dead either. Anita said she'd keep me safe. She's not Buffy but she's just as strong (except not really but it doesn't count) and smart, and she never yells at me when I make a mess or bump into things. She said that even though I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to you, you know I meant it because you're my Mom and you know I love you and I'll always love you, even when I'm dead.
Dawn stared at those last two words. Her stomach twisted back into that horrible knot, and suddenly she didn't want to be doing this anymore.
If you're watching me from heaven, you'll read this and know I love you. And you can forget that I said some bad words the other day when I walked into that door. I was having a trying day.
Love you and miss you always,
Dawn.
The ringing doorbell startled Dawn badly. She quickly capped her pen and, leaving her diary open so the ink could dry, grabbed the storybook and crept across the floor to the door.
Low, indecipherable voices drifted up the stairs to Dawn, but she didn't recognize the speakers.
Then Anita said something, sounding annoyed, but still Dawn couldn't understand the words.
The voices moved deeper into the house. Wondering who on earth had interrupted their quiet at-home evening, Dawn tip-toed down the stairs and along the hall until she got to the kitchen door, and looked around the edge of the doorframe.
Glory stood in the middle of the kitchen.
The world went grey and fuzzy around the edges as Dawn forgot how to breathe, how to run away, forgot everything except how to be afraid. Glory's golden hair was the only thing Dawn could see, rippling down her back over strange clothes.
Then Glory turned, and it wasn't Glory at all, it was Ben, with his wide shoulders and long arms and big hands that had held her in place and had threatened to hurt her so much, to kill her just because.
Then Dawn saw Ben's face, and it wasn't Ben at all, it was a stranger with ice-blue eyes and hair like Glory and hands like Ben and he was smiling and his teeth were sharp, so sharp, and he was moving towards her and Dawn dropped the book and ran away as fast and as hard as she could.
She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away, had to hide so the stranger with Glory's hair and Ben's hands couldn't find her and eat her up with his sharp teeth. She burst through a door and was in the darkness, and the floor dropped off and she stumbled down the stairs, stumbled into the dark and the shadows, but the shadows couldn't hurt her, not now. The man who wasn't Glory and wasn't Ben, he was the one who could hurt her, just like Ben and Glory had.
The stairs ended abruptly and Dawn fell to the cold concrete floor, banging her elbows and chin. She scrambled to her feet again. She had to keep moving, she had to hide.
Someone loomed up before her in the dark, and Dawn shrieked before she realized it was just a coat rack. She ducked around it and went deeper into the basement. Behind boxes, behind shelves, until Dawn ran out of places to go. She squeezed herself between a large trunk and the cold wall, scratching her arm in the process, and curled into a tiny ball.
She had to stay quiet and hidden so no one could find her, so she'd be safe from the stranger who wasn't Glory and who wasn't Ben but would eat her up with his sharp teeth.
Quiet.
Dawn shook so hard her teeth rattled. Could he hear her shaking? Could he hear her breathing in the dark? Would he find her?
The overhead lights went on. Dawn bit into her knee to keep from screaming and screaming. He was coming to find her and there was nowhere left for her to run.
"Dawn?"
It was Anita. Dawn wanted to scream at her to run, to hide from the man with the ice-cold eyes and sharp teeth, but she couldn't breathe over the fear cramping her stomach.
"Dawn, where are you?" Anita stepped over boxes on her way to Dawn. "What's wrong?" she asked as she knelt in front of Dawn.
Anita had said she would protect Dawn from anything, and Dawn couldn't do anything less for her. Without a second thought, Dawn unfolded herself and got to her feet, tugging on Anita's arm. "We have to go!" she said in a shaky whisper. "Before he finds us, we have to go!"
"Before who finds us?" Anita tried to pull Dawn into her arms, but Dawn wriggled away.
"There's no time, we have to go now!" Dawn dug her nails into Anita's skin and tried to physically drag the woman towards the high window in the basement wall. "He's going to find us and eat us and we have to go!"
Anita twisted her arm out of Dawn's grip. "What are you talking about?" Anita demanded, fear very unlike Dawn's in her voice.
"The man! He had hair like Glory and he's big like Ben and he has big sharp teeth and he's coming after us!" Dawn turned and ran for the window. If Anita wasn't going to help her, she'd climb out the window and run away into the night all on her own. Maybe then Anita would follow and be safe.
Anita caught Dawn around the waist and lifted her into the air. Dawn turned and thrashed, but it didn't make any difference. "Are you talking about Asher?" Anita asked, carrying Dawn away from the boxes and the promised exit of the window. "Asher is a vampire but he would never do anything to hurt you, not ever! He came over here with Jean-Claude to make sure I was okay, he'd never harm you!"
Dawn kept fighting. "He's not harmless!" Dawn shrieked. "Everyone thought Ben was harmless and he was Glory and Glory was Ben and they made everyone crazy and they were going to kill me so Glory could be a god again! Let me go!"
Cold, stark astonishment and panic washed over Dawn, catching her totally off-guard. She stopped struggling as Anita stumbled, ending up on the floor, Dawn still held tight in her arms. "What did you say?" Anita demanded as she turned Dawn around to look at her. "Who tried to kill you?"
"Glory and Ben!" Dawn started shaking again. "The monks made me into a person and made me Buffy's sister so she would protect me from Glory, but we didn't know that Ben was Glory and they got me and they had to kill me so Glory could be a god again and Ben could be a boy again!" All the lies Dawn had been telling, all the half-truths washed away in the face of her terror. "And they got me and tied me up and Doc cut me up so my blood could open a portal so Glory could go home and it did! The portal opened and dragons and demons came out and I had to jump to make it stop and I did! I jumped really far and fell into the cemetery and you found me but I wasn't me, I was five and not fifteen!"
Dawn had never seen Anita look so pale. "Dawn, it's okay," Anita said, touching Dawn's face with a shaking hand. "You're safe here--"
"I'm not safe!" Dawn shouted, no longer heeding the danger of near-by dangers. "The man upstairs with the sharp teeth, he's got hair like Glory!" To Dawn, it made perfect sense, and she didn't understand why Anita kept shaking her head.
"Asher would never hurt you," Anita said forcefully. "I will never let anything hurt you, not ever again. Do you understand?"
Dawn shook her head. "You don't understand! If Glory can find her way to this dimension, she'll try again! She'll cut me again and use my blood to open a gateway to a hell-dimension!"
Anita opened her mouth, but couldn't speak.
Dawn struggled free of Anita's grip. "I'm not really a girl," Dawn said between chattering teeth. Anita had to know the full truth now, there was no going back. "I used to be a big ball of energy that could open portals to hell, but then the monks made me into Buffy's teenage sister so Glory wouldn't find me, but it didn't work and Glory found me! Mom was dead and Buffy tried but she couldn't protect me, and now I'm here but I'm supposed to be dead and now I'm five!" Anita held out her hands, but Dawn danced back just out of reach. "Do you believe me? You have to believe me!"
"Dawn." Anita took hold of Dawn's arms with a gentle but firm pressure. "You need to listen to me. No matter what has happened before, you are safe here. I will die before I let anyone hurt you again, do you understand?"
Anita's anger rushed hot over Dawn, taking away her words and her protestations. She didn't know if Anita believed her or not, and she didn't know how to prove it to her, not anymore. She'd thought that if she told the truth, about everything, that Anita would have to believe her.
Why hadn't Anita believed her? Had she said it wrong? She tried to remember all the things she'd said, but Anita's fury overwhelmed everything in Dawn's head.
"That man..." Dawn managed to say, around the flood of emotions.
"Asher?" Anita supplied.
Dawn nodded. "He's not Glory?"
"No, he's not." Anita was still deathly pale, but her anger was starting to receded from Dawn's head. "He and Jean-Claude are old friends. Asher is a vampire, like Jean-Claude."
Dawn turned her head in the direction of the stairs. "But he had golden hair, and sharp-- sharp teeth," Dawn said with a hiccup.
"Yes, he does, but he's just the same as Jean-Claude." Anita shifted closer on the ground until her arms encircled Dawn in an almost-hug. "You're not afraid of Jean-Claude."
"No," Dawn whispered. "Jean-Claude's like Spike."
"Spike?"
"Spike is-- was, our vampire. He's all creepy but he won't hurt me." Dawn pressed her fingers against the bleeding scrape on her arm, making it hurt, until Anita took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away from the wound. "He called me 'Nibblet' and 'Platelet' but he never even pretended to bite me and he got up the tower to try and save me from Doc and Glory but Doc stabbed him really bad and he fell all the way to the ground and I don't know if he's dead. I mean, really dead."
"I'm sure he's fine," Anita said soothingly. "Vampires are very tough creatures."
Dawn nodded. "That's what he said, he was all tough and mean and scary. But he didn't scare me, not really."
"Good."
Dawn nestled closer to Anita. "Is Asher like Spike? Is he tough and mean and scary?"
Anita let out a slow breath. "Asher is tough and I'm sure he can be scary to his enemies, but he's not mean. And he won't scare you."
Dawn considered this. "And he won't try to eat me?"
"No, he won't try to eat you," Anita said quickly.
"Oh." Dawn rested her forehead against Anita's cheek for a minute. "Then I have to go meet him."
"I don't know if that's a good idea--"
"But it is!" Dawn argued before she lost her nerve. "I met Damian and he wasn't scary even though I thought he killed Nathaniel and that he'd try to kill me, and after I met him he wasn't scary and I didn't have a single nightmare about him, I promise!"
Anita patted Dawn's back. She was quiet, but not like she was thinking. She was quiet in the same way she was quiet when she was thinking thoughts to Nathaniel; quiet whispers too faint on the air for Dawn to hear.
Then Anita stood up, taking Dawn with her. "You need to let me know if you get scared or anything," Anita said as she skirted the mess on the floor. "And remember, you're perfectly safe with me and with everyone upstairs."
"I remember." Still, as Anita mounted the stairs, Dawn's limbs grew tight and the air grew thin again. Dawn dug her fingers into Anita's shirt, holding tight.
The kitchen was silent when Anita and Dawn came through the basement door. Dawn knew that Micah and Nathaniel and Jean-Claude were all there, but all she could see was the tall man with the ice-blue eyes and the sharp teeth.
Asher.
Dawn's arms went around Anita's neck as if Anita was the last solid thing in the universe, and maybe she was.
"Dawn, this is Asher," Anita said softly.
Dawn could only stare. Even knowing that Asher wasn't Glory and he wasn't Ben, thoughts of them crowded in and around Dawn's mind, twisting danger from every angle.
"Bon soir, Dawn." Asher stared back at Dawn. His golden hair hung over one side of his face, hiding one blue eye. He was tall, taller than Jean-Claude beside him, with wide shoulders and big hands like Ben's.
"Hi," Dawn breathed. She stared some more. "Are you a doctor?"
Asher's expression never changed, but something made Dawn think she'd surprised him. The tension eased a little. If he was Glory, he wouldn't be confused, and he wouldn't staring back at her. He'd have ripped her out of Anita's arms and torn her open by now.
"Non, I am not a doctor," Asher said. His voice was silky and French and all the things Spike's voice had never been. "Nor am I a lawyer or an Indian chief."
"Asher!" Anita chided, but Dawn had to smile. Just a little.
"I saw a picture of you in Jean-Claude's cave," Dawn offered. "With him and a lady. You had a beard and a hat."
"I do faintly recall seeing the picture," Asher said, sarcasm coating his words, and that was so much like Spike that Dawn felt a little better.
"Why is your hair in front of your face?" she asked.
Asher went impossibly still, then he raised his hand and swept the hair back from his face, even as Anita and Micah were suddenly both speaking at the same time. The hidden side of Asher's face looked unreal, as if the skin had melted like candle wax. "This is why," he ground out.
Dawn had seen worse on demons at the Hellmouth, and she didn't flinch. "How'd that happen?" she asked, curious. "Did it hurt?"
"Holy water," Asher said. He raised his eyebrow as Anita swung around, putting herself between vampire and Dawn. "Oui, cherie?"
"Get out," Anita snapped. "Now, the both of you, just get out!"
"Ma petite..." Jean-Claude tried to say, but Anita shook her head.
"Asher can say whatever the hell he wants, but he did that to scare Dawn! I want you both gone!"
"But that didn't scare the little one, did it?" Asher took a step forward, but Jean-Claude grabbed his arm in a motion too quick for Dawn to follow.
Nathaniel pulled Dawn out of Anita's arms as Anita moved across the kitchen to stand right in front of Asher. "Whatever problems you have with me, you take them up with me, and not Dawn!"
Asher didn't move, but suddenly he was too close to Anita. "You asked me to stay, Anita, while you spoke with the child. Remember that."
"We will leave now, ma petite," Jean-Claude said. Power rushed around the room, prickly along Dawn's skin. "Asher."
With aching slowness, Asher stepped away from Anita. "As always, Anita, it has been an enchanting evening," he said. If the whole mood wasn't so deadly serious, Dawn might have laughed.
As Asher turned to leave, Dawn piped up, "I'm sorry you got hurt with holy water."
Asher looked back at her, hard, and Dawn quickly buried her face in Nathaniel's sleeve. He wasn't really like Spike, not really, and Dawn wasn't sure she liked him at all.
Then the vampires were gone.
Anita turned on her heel and came back across the kitchen, scooping Dawn back into her arms and holding her tight as she walked down the hall to the master bathroom. Nathaniel and Micah followed her, but Anita paid them no mind. "Are you all right?" she asked Dawn.
Dawn nodded once.
Anita set Dawn on the counter and began to rummage around. "Then let's look after that scrape, okay?"
"Anita..." Micah said.
Anita didn't seem to hear him. "And then we'll get some dinner, how does that sound?"
Micah grabbed Anita's arm before Dawn could think of responding. "Anita."
"Look, I'm--" Anita began, but Micah's fingers tightened on her wrist.
"We'll talk about this later," he said warningly. "I want to make sure Dawn's okay."
The bathroom was white and shiny, no hiding spots for any kind of danger, but the temporary reprieve of meeting Asher was beginning to fade. Even though there was no place for Glory to hide, the false sense of security that had lulled Dawn to sleep for months was gone.
What if Glory came for her one day?
"I'm fine," Dawn said automatically. Once Anita was done bandaging her arm, she let the woman lift her up once more.
The adults were talking, but not to Dawn, and so it didn't matter. What did matter was that Anita hadn't believed Dawn when Dawn had told her the truth about everything. Dawn didn't know what else she could do if Glory came for her, one day.
She shifted around in Anita's arms and put her thumb in her mouth. She might have been physically in St. Louis, but all she could think about was that last night in Sunnydale, when Glory and Ben tried to kill her, and Buffy hadn't been able to protect her after all.
to be continued