Old Stories Chapter 6 Btvs/Glee crossover
Title:Old Stories
Author: Rokwynd
Rating: M for language
Pairings: Canon Pairings both series for now
Fandoms:Glee/Buffy
Summary: Dawn Summers, Watcher is assigned to Lima, Ohio.
Notes: Spoilers for all 7 seasons of Buffy and up to the finale of Glee Special thanks to my Beta DropEdge, you were a big part in making this awesome.
Dawn gave the cashier a smile as she walked into the little diner Will had shown her a few days before. The place was pretty busy for a Sunday, full but not overcrowded-always a good sign. Taking her orders from a sign by the register, she found a corner booth for herself and sat facing the assembled crowd. She inhaled a deep breath and took in the glorious aroma of coffee.
She flagged down a waitress for a cup and the server, maybe sensing a kindred spirit, left a heated carafe at the table. Dawn toasted Will with her first sip; this place was an awesome find. Thinking of Will, she glanced at her watch and realized it was only 10:30. So what if she was early; it was just being punctual. It had nothing to do with how frustrated she was. After leaving Figgins' office she had been riding high on an anger wave.
She had spent most of Friday trying to find any way to get out of the arrangement. She called the Rosenberg Foundation, examined the school rules, even called her old academic adviser. Naturally her search had been pointless, since to a man they had all agreed Figgins and Sue had given her an excellent subject group for her paper. Apparently the fact she was a co-director was a positive instead of a whopping conflict of interest. Every other option exhausted, she broke down and called Will.
Speaking of the devil, the bell above the door jangled and in walked a familiar curly head of hair. After being waved in, he seated himself-back to the door, she couldn't help but notice. She gestured at the coffee carafe, and as Will reached for it she jumped right in.
"Hey, thanks for coming. Sorry about calling so late on Friday. I hope Terri wasn't too mad," Dawn said.
Will shrugged it off with a smile. "No problem. I figured whatever you wanted to talk about was important if you were calling me so late. I guess your meeting with Figgins didn't go well."
Dawn chuckled dryly at that. "That's kind of an understatement. At this point if it went any less well, they might be trying to find my body.”
"Come on, it can't be that bad. You showed me your presentation. Everything was covered. You should have been golden," said a slightly skeptical Will.
So Dawn told him what happened, everything from Sue taking control of the meeting to her naming herself Dawn's adviser on the project.
"Not only is she ‘assisting me,’”-this she said complete with air quotes-“but somehow she convinced Figgins that in order for the paper to be a success I need to become a well-rounded teacher. Whatever that means."
Will still looked confused, but his expression was starting to bleed into concern. "So how are you going to do that?"
"She says I need to help a student group, but instead of picking one I got assigned to one; I'll give you three guesses which one."
Will's reaction was not what she expected; laughter or maybe shared outrage she anticipated, but the contemplative look on his face was disturbing.
"So let me get this straight. You get to do your paper and you get to get involved with a group of students and help me out at the same time. I'm sorry, Dawn, but I don't see this as a bad thing." He paused for a moment. “Don't hit me for this, but did you ever consider they might be right?”
That made her snort coffee, and it took a moment to calm down. As she wiped at her nose and eyes, Will gave her what she’d come to think of as Concerned Look #3.
"Dawn, despite being forced into this, it might be the best thing for you."
She did her best not to roll her eyes at that.
"Will, I don't see how forcing me into anything is a good thing."
He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, forcing you into this is a horrible way to go about it. Don't hit me, but I've been getting worried about the way you've been interacting with your kids."
"Will, I don't see what you are talking about. I come in, I teach my classes, and at the end of the period we all leave happy. Sure, they don't love the homework. But hell, it's high school; that's a given."
"All right," he conceded, "but how much do you talk to your kids outside of class?"
"I talk to them," she said, playing with some sugar packets. "I'm not an asshole; I just keep a professional distance."
Will gave her an appraising look. "Professional distance, huh? So that's what they’re calling that load of crap now. Look, call it what you want, but I've watched you in class. You give your lecture, rush through any questions. You aren't teaching your kids; you're just lecturing at them. Look, Dawn, you aren't a bad teacher. You just need to be more involved. I'm going to keep saying this could really be a good thing for you."
Dawn didn't even try to hide her skepticism. " Oh yeah, my being shanghaied into joining the Glee Club or it fails is an awesome thing. Will, I don't have a problem with your kids. And if it's what I need to do, I'll do it. I just thought you should know about this."
Will closed his eyes, and any retort he was about to make was cut off by the arrival of the waitress. Orders made, Dawn started to speak again when Will cut her off.
"Okay, Dawn. Since we’re being honest, let's put it all on the table. If you want to be involved with the Glee Club, you'll get nothing but open arms." His face hardens and he stares her in the eyes. "Let's also be clear, though. If you don't want to do this and you come in and hurt these kids… Well, you really don't want to hurt these kids."
Dawn set down her mug and considered the Will Scheuster in front of her. This wasn't the slightly goofy popular teacher. This was a man who would take all his sincerity and drive it toward a purpose. He would keep going until either he was successful or there were no other options. If the steel in his spine was actually real, then it would be worth it to follow him and see where this led.
Dawn met his gaze. "I'm not exactly doing back flips or riding fuzzy unicorns about being forced into this. Despite that, from what I've seen of your practices and seeing them in class, the kids look happier. I'm not 100 percent on board yet, but I'm getting there." She shot him a grin. "Plus, nothing would make me happier than to rub this little stunt in Sue and Figgins's faces."
As Will considered this, she could see his glare lighten a little. Finally he gave her a hesitant grin.
"If anyone else had fed me that line, Dawn, I would have already sent them packing.” He paused to shake his head. "It's a good thing it's you. I want to believe in you, Dawn, so I know you won't let me down. We'll get you involved and see what happens. So before this gets anymore cheesy," he put his hand across the table to her, "welcome to New Directions."
Dawn reached across the table and shook Will's hand.
"Either way, it's going to be a hell of a ride."
For the most part things went smoothly after the handshake. They spent the rest of the meal talking about what exactly the club needed and how Dawn could fill those gaps. Will, it turned out, was great at the artistic direction. But his detail management skills were just not there. Dawn soon found herself with a list of things she would have to organize. In a way it felt comfortable. It would be just like being a Watcher, minus the stress.
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Call her a dreamer, but caught up in Will's enthusiasm Dawn had believed the non-stress message. Luckily, reality was right there to remind her what actually would happen. Dawn had known Glee would take up a new chunk of time; she just wasn't ready for how much it would actually take. Glee time involved two classes per week and three after school practices. Sue did her part by joyfully informing Dawn that since her paper depended on the club she would have to be there for every practice. That’s how she found herself sitting in the auditorium as Will attempted to lead the kids through a rendition of "You're the One That I Want."
Rachel and Mercedes were currently screeching about who should sing the lead female role. Dawn shook her head and absently added a tally to the Barbra vs. Beyonce chart. Every time the duo brought up one a musical idol, Dawn would jot it down. At the moment Barbra still held the lead, but this was mostly due to Rachel's rapid-fire delivery.
Dawn settled into her seat and glared at the accounting budget for the club. It shouldn't be so hard to budget with an income of almost nothing, but nonetheless here she was. At least it was better than getting involved with the ego storm on stage. A risky glance up showed the group splitting into three camps: The Argument, the Mortified, and the What Am I Doing Here?-the latter camp comprised of one Finn Hudson.
The fact that Finn Hudson, quarterback and all-around popular kid, had joined Glee was a riddle Dawn couldn't solve. If this were Sunnydale she would be looking for a good exorcism spell. Instead he stood uncomfortably on stage, trading awkward glances with Will. Every time Dawn asked Will why Finn joined, the teacher would trail off or change subjects. Will knew he was a bad liar, and he seemed to think not saying anything would cover for it. She would probably be happier if she didn't know, and since he wouldn't talk about it she would have to shelf the topic-at least until she had a better chance to bring it up.
Will eventually got his-well, she guessed it was now “their”-little troupe mobilized, and soon Rachel and Finn were telling each other lyrically about how much they wanted each other. Dawn was still absently filling in numbers when the entire group harmony kicked in and they seemed to smooth into the number. She kicked her foot against the chair before she realized she was tapping it; and judging by the marks on the paper, her pencil was as well.
Her surprise must have shown on her face because the look Will shot her made him look as if he got his Red Ryder BB Gun every Christmas. She just shrugged and gave him an answering grin. It didn't hurt that Artie was by then doing wheelies in time to the beat. Shaking her head, Dawn turned back to the books. There was no way she was getting this done if she kept watching Will dork out. When she turned her attention back to the page, it was all she could do to keep the smile plastered on her face.
Sometime between an "Ooh Ooh Ooh" and a "Honey," she covered the pages in the words “gather,” “collect” and “protect.” These words were all over the pages, vertical, horizontal, joined together in a version of Scrabble out of The Shining. Dawn could feel an oncoming freak out, and getting out of the theater seemed like a brilliant idea. Her legs, on the other limb, decided they were very happy staying where they were.
Dawn looked at the stage as the kids, oblivious to her freak out, reached the next verse of the song. She didn't recognize it, but right then she couldn’t remember the verses to Itsy Bitsy Spider, much less Grease. Then the room vanished in a viridian blur. A whimper escaped from her throat as she shut her eyes. Naturally, closing them didn't help; the green was still there and her eyes wanted to open of their own accord. Dawn gave in and slowly opened her eyes. The blur was still green, but now it was a shade of olive.
The olive leached the color from the room and blurred shapes as well. She could still tell there were seven figures on stage, but beyond that they were blobs. That didn't really matter, since she had so much more to which to pay attention. Every surface in the theater, including Dawn herself, was covered in a thin, slimy film. The stuff shined like the road after a rainstorm, glistening with thin clusters of multi-hued greens. It ran down the aisles and off the chairs in a sluggish flow toward the stage.
The stuff even streamed from the wall, drawn by what she hoped was gravity toward the bottom of the room. The mass swelled up toward the lip of the stage. The sludge lapped at the edge of the stage, held back like a swell of water at a dam. Then, as she took a breath, the sludge spilled over the edge and flooded in a thin layer across the stage.
Nothing changed for a moment, but then she could see two figures pass through the overflow. Once they hit the film, the music stopped and everyone on stage broke out into argument again. The flow surged forth toward the stage, no longer held in check. In a wave it consumed the figures. Caught in the flow, she glimpsed a glint of white light before everything went dark green around her.
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Someone was talking around her, calling Dawn’s name. Her head was pounding, but whoever was saying her name just wouldn’t shut up. In the great battle of Summers vs. The Noise, she conceded defeat and slowly opened her eyes. She found herself lying on her back, a bunch of coats and stuff under her. Judging by the height, she had to be on the audition table. Someone's backpack propped her legs up (She took a moment to thank the goddess she wore slacks today.) while another bundle acted as a pillow.
With the entire club gathered around her, Dawn could make out Tina looking awkwardly concerned and Kurt, a hand on his hip, watching her like a hawk. She turned her head to look at him and could feel Kurt’s gaze shift; apparently her pillow was his jacket. Weird how it just felt more expensive. Hopefully she hadn’t drooled on it; if she had Kurt, might just stake her.
"Guys! I promise you, I'm fine," Dawn protested.
Unfortunately none of the kids were fools and didn’t seem to buy it. Having had enough of this crap, Dawn made a start at getting off the table when she found Rachel in her face.
"Ms. Summers," Rachel said, her voice painfully clear at the moment, "Mr. Scheuster stepped out for a moment to make a phone call. And as such he informed us that while he was gone you were to remain in your prone position on the table.”
"Rachel, I don't need to keep lying down. Like I said, I'm fine."
From the look Rachel was giving her, Dawn knew she was about as convincing as Willow on a caffeine binge.
"Mr. Scheuster told us you might say that, and since neither you nor I are medical professionals-though my two fathers did compel me to take a course in CPR and First Aid-from what I recall, lying there will be the best thing for you."
Before she had a chance to respond (and probably get sued for scarring the kids’ psyches), the auditorium doors opened and Will hurried down the stairs.
Will gave her an appraising look, and possibly noticing the proximity of Rachel to Dawn, he turned and addresses the kids.
"Hey guys, let's give Ms. Summers some air. Take five and I'll let you know what's going on."
The kids all mumbled various assents and filed out the theater, though Dawn caught a high-pitched comment about the show always going on followed by shushing before the doors closed. Dawn started to lift her head, half intent on glaring Will into submission. But the blinding pain as she lifted her head forced her down.
"Fuck," she groaned as her head fell onto the very soft jacket.
"So help me, Will, when I get better I am going to break your leg and let Rachel nurse you back to health."
Will tried to laugh at that, but it sounded forced. "You're making jokes, so I don't think it’s too bad." He crouched down next to her so she didn't have to raise her head. "Dawn, what the hell is going on? This is the second time you zoned out or collapsed this week."
Second time? The hell?
"Second time?" she asked a bit timidly, not wanting the answer.
"Yesterday I found you in the costume room. I came by to ask if you wanted some pop, and there you were standing in the middle of the room staring at the racks."
She recalled Will asking her something while she sorted costumes and outfits for the group. She had just been tired, and all that fabric got kind of boring: nothing else to it. She was about to tell him the same thing when another lance of pain shot through her head.
Will must have seen her reaction because his face got very decisive and he stood up. "Right. I think the best thing would be for you to go to a doctor."
"Sure, makes perfect sense. Once the headache dies down enough so that I can drive, I'll get everything checked out." She had no such plans, of course, but if it got him off her case…
"Luckily for both of us, I'm not an idiot," he said in a tone that saw right through her bullshit. "If I let you go home, you would lie about going just to get me off your case. So instead I went to the office to get your emergency contacts," he said a little smugly.
Dawn’s stomach did a twist. "Will, by all that is holy, please tell me you haven't called yet? That you didn't call my sister about this."
There might be hope. If Buffy didn't get involved it would all be good. She would even actually go to the doctor.
He instead nodded in confirmation. "I called her office and the guy on the phone told me he would get her the message. Something about her being in New Zealand right now."
Dawn groaned and tried to bury herself further into her makeshift designer pillow. Thanks to the magic of time zones, Buffy had what amounted to an extra 24 hours to get in touch with the others. She was going to be rescued, again.
Will continued on, oblivious to the shitstorm he had just stirred up. "The guy on the phone-Andrew, I think-asked me if I wouldn't mind driving you home. He said he would have someone over by the evening."
"Did they say who?"
"Xavier? Or was it Anders? They said you knew him."
Xander. Of course. Who else could they send?
"Anyway, they said he would stay with you and make sure everything was okay. It will give you a chance to rest up since you aren't coming to Carmel now. I already asked Emma, and she’s happy to do it."
"Will, that's sweet. But I have to go to Carmel." She was desperate now, not looking forward to a weekend trapped in the house with Xander. "Vocal Adrenaline is the competition. I have to see them perform, and there is no way Figgins or Sue would let me miss something as big as that."
Will shook his head. "Don't worry. I already called Figgins and let him know what happened. He told me to tell you to take Friday off and not show up on campus until Monday." Will smiled at her, probably trying to be reassuring. "It's not like he could order you to go with you passing out."
She was about to protest again when another lance of pain shot through her head. Suddenly Friday off sounded like a good plan, and even if Xander was around she could still go to Carmel. It would be no problem.
Will put a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Relax. I think Emma and I can manage the kids for the day. I need you to get better, I can't run this place if you keep falling down on me. We'll get you home. You rest up, and on Monday you can go back to being stubborn."
Defeated, Dawn leaned back and closed her eyes. Not seeing things helped more than she realized.
Later on, when she wasn't so miserable, she would properly thank all the kids. The group had stuck around-most likely to gossip at the door-but when Will helped her down from the table, Finn had her other arm and helped her walk up the stairs. It was her own fault for trying to walk-not that she would admit it. Even so, she would be damned if she got carried out, so an awkward limp it would be.
Mercedes and Tina had her coat and bags, and they followed in Artie and Rachel's wake as the duo worked on holding doors open for her and her bearers. Once she turned the corner she could see Kurt inspecting his coat for any signs of injury. That set her off laughing until everyone gave her looks like they were all convinced she was crazier than they thought.
New Directions coaxed its reluctantly invalid co-director into Will's car. The kids watched the car until it pulled out of the lot. Dawn couldn't help smiling; they looked like a litter of puppies.
"You were right," she admitted keeping her eyes closed. "They are good kids."
His answering chuckle rose briefly above the sounds of classic rock on the radio before she drifted off.
A too-short time later she woke up when the engine turned off. Her head didn't ache as much and her legs felt less like jelly. Despite telling this to Will, he insisted on helping Dawn into her apartment. Without the kids as an audience it was much easier to accept the favor of Will helping her onto her couch, propped up on whatever pillows she had handy. Once he had her settled on the couch he left a glass of water and some aspirin on the coffee table before turning to her.
"Need anything else before I go?"
She smiled at him. "Let’s see. Pillows, painkiller and TV. Nope, I think I'm good to go."
Dawn started making shooing gestures with her hands. "Will, go. I'm fine. Plus, Terri’s going to be mad enough when she finds out you took me to bed."
The way his jaw dropped was totally worth it.
Will managed to stammer out a goodbye in between her laughs, and with a final wave he shut the door and she heard her lock click. Still laughing to herself, Dawn chugged the aspirin and water and leaned back into her pillows. It was dark out when she heard the door click, and she didn't have a chance to reach for a stashed knife before the door opened.
The man in her doorway was six foot, black hair, and dressed in some sort of explorer outfit. But most telling even after all these years was the eye patch. All these years later Xander Harris was still Xander. He looked a little hesitant before coming into the living room and sitting down on her love seat.
"Hey, Dawnie. Long time no see."
Author: Rokwynd
Rating: M for language
Pairings: Canon Pairings both series for now
Fandoms:Glee/Buffy
Summary: Dawn Summers, Watcher is assigned to Lima, Ohio.
Notes: Spoilers for all 7 seasons of Buffy and up to the finale of Glee Special thanks to my Beta DropEdge, you were a big part in making this awesome.
Dawn gave the cashier a smile as she walked into the little diner Will had shown her a few days before. The place was pretty busy for a Sunday, full but not overcrowded-always a good sign. Taking her orders from a sign by the register, she found a corner booth for herself and sat facing the assembled crowd. She inhaled a deep breath and took in the glorious aroma of coffee.
She flagged down a waitress for a cup and the server, maybe sensing a kindred spirit, left a heated carafe at the table. Dawn toasted Will with her first sip; this place was an awesome find. Thinking of Will, she glanced at her watch and realized it was only 10:30. So what if she was early; it was just being punctual. It had nothing to do with how frustrated she was. After leaving Figgins' office she had been riding high on an anger wave.
She had spent most of Friday trying to find any way to get out of the arrangement. She called the Rosenberg Foundation, examined the school rules, even called her old academic adviser. Naturally her search had been pointless, since to a man they had all agreed Figgins and Sue had given her an excellent subject group for her paper. Apparently the fact she was a co-director was a positive instead of a whopping conflict of interest. Every other option exhausted, she broke down and called Will.
Speaking of the devil, the bell above the door jangled and in walked a familiar curly head of hair. After being waved in, he seated himself-back to the door, she couldn't help but notice. She gestured at the coffee carafe, and as Will reached for it she jumped right in.
"Hey, thanks for coming. Sorry about calling so late on Friday. I hope Terri wasn't too mad," Dawn said.
Will shrugged it off with a smile. "No problem. I figured whatever you wanted to talk about was important if you were calling me so late. I guess your meeting with Figgins didn't go well."
Dawn chuckled dryly at that. "That's kind of an understatement. At this point if it went any less well, they might be trying to find my body.”
"Come on, it can't be that bad. You showed me your presentation. Everything was covered. You should have been golden," said a slightly skeptical Will.
So Dawn told him what happened, everything from Sue taking control of the meeting to her naming herself Dawn's adviser on the project.
"Not only is she ‘assisting me,’”-this she said complete with air quotes-“but somehow she convinced Figgins that in order for the paper to be a success I need to become a well-rounded teacher. Whatever that means."
Will still looked confused, but his expression was starting to bleed into concern. "So how are you going to do that?"
"She says I need to help a student group, but instead of picking one I got assigned to one; I'll give you three guesses which one."
Will's reaction was not what she expected; laughter or maybe shared outrage she anticipated, but the contemplative look on his face was disturbing.
"So let me get this straight. You get to do your paper and you get to get involved with a group of students and help me out at the same time. I'm sorry, Dawn, but I don't see this as a bad thing." He paused for a moment. “Don't hit me for this, but did you ever consider they might be right?”
That made her snort coffee, and it took a moment to calm down. As she wiped at her nose and eyes, Will gave her what she’d come to think of as Concerned Look #3.
"Dawn, despite being forced into this, it might be the best thing for you."
She did her best not to roll her eyes at that.
"Will, I don't see how forcing me into anything is a good thing."
He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, forcing you into this is a horrible way to go about it. Don't hit me, but I've been getting worried about the way you've been interacting with your kids."
"Will, I don't see what you are talking about. I come in, I teach my classes, and at the end of the period we all leave happy. Sure, they don't love the homework. But hell, it's high school; that's a given."
"All right," he conceded, "but how much do you talk to your kids outside of class?"
"I talk to them," she said, playing with some sugar packets. "I'm not an asshole; I just keep a professional distance."
Will gave her an appraising look. "Professional distance, huh? So that's what they’re calling that load of crap now. Look, call it what you want, but I've watched you in class. You give your lecture, rush through any questions. You aren't teaching your kids; you're just lecturing at them. Look, Dawn, you aren't a bad teacher. You just need to be more involved. I'm going to keep saying this could really be a good thing for you."
Dawn didn't even try to hide her skepticism. " Oh yeah, my being shanghaied into joining the Glee Club or it fails is an awesome thing. Will, I don't have a problem with your kids. And if it's what I need to do, I'll do it. I just thought you should know about this."
Will closed his eyes, and any retort he was about to make was cut off by the arrival of the waitress. Orders made, Dawn started to speak again when Will cut her off.
"Okay, Dawn. Since we’re being honest, let's put it all on the table. If you want to be involved with the Glee Club, you'll get nothing but open arms." His face hardens and he stares her in the eyes. "Let's also be clear, though. If you don't want to do this and you come in and hurt these kids… Well, you really don't want to hurt these kids."
Dawn set down her mug and considered the Will Scheuster in front of her. This wasn't the slightly goofy popular teacher. This was a man who would take all his sincerity and drive it toward a purpose. He would keep going until either he was successful or there were no other options. If the steel in his spine was actually real, then it would be worth it to follow him and see where this led.
Dawn met his gaze. "I'm not exactly doing back flips or riding fuzzy unicorns about being forced into this. Despite that, from what I've seen of your practices and seeing them in class, the kids look happier. I'm not 100 percent on board yet, but I'm getting there." She shot him a grin. "Plus, nothing would make me happier than to rub this little stunt in Sue and Figgins's faces."
As Will considered this, she could see his glare lighten a little. Finally he gave her a hesitant grin.
"If anyone else had fed me that line, Dawn, I would have already sent them packing.” He paused to shake his head. "It's a good thing it's you. I want to believe in you, Dawn, so I know you won't let me down. We'll get you involved and see what happens. So before this gets anymore cheesy," he put his hand across the table to her, "welcome to New Directions."
Dawn reached across the table and shook Will's hand.
"Either way, it's going to be a hell of a ride."
For the most part things went smoothly after the handshake. They spent the rest of the meal talking about what exactly the club needed and how Dawn could fill those gaps. Will, it turned out, was great at the artistic direction. But his detail management skills were just not there. Dawn soon found herself with a list of things she would have to organize. In a way it felt comfortable. It would be just like being a Watcher, minus the stress.
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Call her a dreamer, but caught up in Will's enthusiasm Dawn had believed the non-stress message. Luckily, reality was right there to remind her what actually would happen. Dawn had known Glee would take up a new chunk of time; she just wasn't ready for how much it would actually take. Glee time involved two classes per week and three after school practices. Sue did her part by joyfully informing Dawn that since her paper depended on the club she would have to be there for every practice. That’s how she found herself sitting in the auditorium as Will attempted to lead the kids through a rendition of "You're the One That I Want."
Rachel and Mercedes were currently screeching about who should sing the lead female role. Dawn shook her head and absently added a tally to the Barbra vs. Beyonce chart. Every time the duo brought up one a musical idol, Dawn would jot it down. At the moment Barbra still held the lead, but this was mostly due to Rachel's rapid-fire delivery.
Dawn settled into her seat and glared at the accounting budget for the club. It shouldn't be so hard to budget with an income of almost nothing, but nonetheless here she was. At least it was better than getting involved with the ego storm on stage. A risky glance up showed the group splitting into three camps: The Argument, the Mortified, and the What Am I Doing Here?-the latter camp comprised of one Finn Hudson.
The fact that Finn Hudson, quarterback and all-around popular kid, had joined Glee was a riddle Dawn couldn't solve. If this were Sunnydale she would be looking for a good exorcism spell. Instead he stood uncomfortably on stage, trading awkward glances with Will. Every time Dawn asked Will why Finn joined, the teacher would trail off or change subjects. Will knew he was a bad liar, and he seemed to think not saying anything would cover for it. She would probably be happier if she didn't know, and since he wouldn't talk about it she would have to shelf the topic-at least until she had a better chance to bring it up.
Will eventually got his-well, she guessed it was now “their”-little troupe mobilized, and soon Rachel and Finn were telling each other lyrically about how much they wanted each other. Dawn was still absently filling in numbers when the entire group harmony kicked in and they seemed to smooth into the number. She kicked her foot against the chair before she realized she was tapping it; and judging by the marks on the paper, her pencil was as well.
Her surprise must have shown on her face because the look Will shot her made him look as if he got his Red Ryder BB Gun every Christmas. She just shrugged and gave him an answering grin. It didn't hurt that Artie was by then doing wheelies in time to the beat. Shaking her head, Dawn turned back to the books. There was no way she was getting this done if she kept watching Will dork out. When she turned her attention back to the page, it was all she could do to keep the smile plastered on her face.
Sometime between an "Ooh Ooh Ooh" and a "Honey," she covered the pages in the words “gather,” “collect” and “protect.” These words were all over the pages, vertical, horizontal, joined together in a version of Scrabble out of The Shining. Dawn could feel an oncoming freak out, and getting out of the theater seemed like a brilliant idea. Her legs, on the other limb, decided they were very happy staying where they were.
Dawn looked at the stage as the kids, oblivious to her freak out, reached the next verse of the song. She didn't recognize it, but right then she couldn’t remember the verses to Itsy Bitsy Spider, much less Grease. Then the room vanished in a viridian blur. A whimper escaped from her throat as she shut her eyes. Naturally, closing them didn't help; the green was still there and her eyes wanted to open of their own accord. Dawn gave in and slowly opened her eyes. The blur was still green, but now it was a shade of olive.
The olive leached the color from the room and blurred shapes as well. She could still tell there were seven figures on stage, but beyond that they were blobs. That didn't really matter, since she had so much more to which to pay attention. Every surface in the theater, including Dawn herself, was covered in a thin, slimy film. The stuff shined like the road after a rainstorm, glistening with thin clusters of multi-hued greens. It ran down the aisles and off the chairs in a sluggish flow toward the stage.
The stuff even streamed from the wall, drawn by what she hoped was gravity toward the bottom of the room. The mass swelled up toward the lip of the stage. The sludge lapped at the edge of the stage, held back like a swell of water at a dam. Then, as she took a breath, the sludge spilled over the edge and flooded in a thin layer across the stage.
Nothing changed for a moment, but then she could see two figures pass through the overflow. Once they hit the film, the music stopped and everyone on stage broke out into argument again. The flow surged forth toward the stage, no longer held in check. In a wave it consumed the figures. Caught in the flow, she glimpsed a glint of white light before everything went dark green around her.
#############################
Someone was talking around her, calling Dawn’s name. Her head was pounding, but whoever was saying her name just wouldn’t shut up. In the great battle of Summers vs. The Noise, she conceded defeat and slowly opened her eyes. She found herself lying on her back, a bunch of coats and stuff under her. Judging by the height, she had to be on the audition table. Someone's backpack propped her legs up (She took a moment to thank the goddess she wore slacks today.) while another bundle acted as a pillow.
With the entire club gathered around her, Dawn could make out Tina looking awkwardly concerned and Kurt, a hand on his hip, watching her like a hawk. She turned her head to look at him and could feel Kurt’s gaze shift; apparently her pillow was his jacket. Weird how it just felt more expensive. Hopefully she hadn’t drooled on it; if she had Kurt, might just stake her.
"Guys! I promise you, I'm fine," Dawn protested.
Unfortunately none of the kids were fools and didn’t seem to buy it. Having had enough of this crap, Dawn made a start at getting off the table when she found Rachel in her face.
"Ms. Summers," Rachel said, her voice painfully clear at the moment, "Mr. Scheuster stepped out for a moment to make a phone call. And as such he informed us that while he was gone you were to remain in your prone position on the table.”
"Rachel, I don't need to keep lying down. Like I said, I'm fine."
From the look Rachel was giving her, Dawn knew she was about as convincing as Willow on a caffeine binge.
"Mr. Scheuster told us you might say that, and since neither you nor I are medical professionals-though my two fathers did compel me to take a course in CPR and First Aid-from what I recall, lying there will be the best thing for you."
Before she had a chance to respond (and probably get sued for scarring the kids’ psyches), the auditorium doors opened and Will hurried down the stairs.
Will gave her an appraising look, and possibly noticing the proximity of Rachel to Dawn, he turned and addresses the kids.
"Hey guys, let's give Ms. Summers some air. Take five and I'll let you know what's going on."
The kids all mumbled various assents and filed out the theater, though Dawn caught a high-pitched comment about the show always going on followed by shushing before the doors closed. Dawn started to lift her head, half intent on glaring Will into submission. But the blinding pain as she lifted her head forced her down.
"Fuck," she groaned as her head fell onto the very soft jacket.
"So help me, Will, when I get better I am going to break your leg and let Rachel nurse you back to health."
Will tried to laugh at that, but it sounded forced. "You're making jokes, so I don't think it’s too bad." He crouched down next to her so she didn't have to raise her head. "Dawn, what the hell is going on? This is the second time you zoned out or collapsed this week."
Second time? The hell?
"Second time?" she asked a bit timidly, not wanting the answer.
"Yesterday I found you in the costume room. I came by to ask if you wanted some pop, and there you were standing in the middle of the room staring at the racks."
She recalled Will asking her something while she sorted costumes and outfits for the group. She had just been tired, and all that fabric got kind of boring: nothing else to it. She was about to tell him the same thing when another lance of pain shot through her head.
Will must have seen her reaction because his face got very decisive and he stood up. "Right. I think the best thing would be for you to go to a doctor."
"Sure, makes perfect sense. Once the headache dies down enough so that I can drive, I'll get everything checked out." She had no such plans, of course, but if it got him off her case…
"Luckily for both of us, I'm not an idiot," he said in a tone that saw right through her bullshit. "If I let you go home, you would lie about going just to get me off your case. So instead I went to the office to get your emergency contacts," he said a little smugly.
Dawn’s stomach did a twist. "Will, by all that is holy, please tell me you haven't called yet? That you didn't call my sister about this."
There might be hope. If Buffy didn't get involved it would all be good. She would even actually go to the doctor.
He instead nodded in confirmation. "I called her office and the guy on the phone told me he would get her the message. Something about her being in New Zealand right now."
Dawn groaned and tried to bury herself further into her makeshift designer pillow. Thanks to the magic of time zones, Buffy had what amounted to an extra 24 hours to get in touch with the others. She was going to be rescued, again.
Will continued on, oblivious to the shitstorm he had just stirred up. "The guy on the phone-Andrew, I think-asked me if I wouldn't mind driving you home. He said he would have someone over by the evening."
"Did they say who?"
"Xavier? Or was it Anders? They said you knew him."
Xander. Of course. Who else could they send?
"Anyway, they said he would stay with you and make sure everything was okay. It will give you a chance to rest up since you aren't coming to Carmel now. I already asked Emma, and she’s happy to do it."
"Will, that's sweet. But I have to go to Carmel." She was desperate now, not looking forward to a weekend trapped in the house with Xander. "Vocal Adrenaline is the competition. I have to see them perform, and there is no way Figgins or Sue would let me miss something as big as that."
Will shook his head. "Don't worry. I already called Figgins and let him know what happened. He told me to tell you to take Friday off and not show up on campus until Monday." Will smiled at her, probably trying to be reassuring. "It's not like he could order you to go with you passing out."
She was about to protest again when another lance of pain shot through her head. Suddenly Friday off sounded like a good plan, and even if Xander was around she could still go to Carmel. It would be no problem.
Will put a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Relax. I think Emma and I can manage the kids for the day. I need you to get better, I can't run this place if you keep falling down on me. We'll get you home. You rest up, and on Monday you can go back to being stubborn."
Defeated, Dawn leaned back and closed her eyes. Not seeing things helped more than she realized.
Later on, when she wasn't so miserable, she would properly thank all the kids. The group had stuck around-most likely to gossip at the door-but when Will helped her down from the table, Finn had her other arm and helped her walk up the stairs. It was her own fault for trying to walk-not that she would admit it. Even so, she would be damned if she got carried out, so an awkward limp it would be.
Mercedes and Tina had her coat and bags, and they followed in Artie and Rachel's wake as the duo worked on holding doors open for her and her bearers. Once she turned the corner she could see Kurt inspecting his coat for any signs of injury. That set her off laughing until everyone gave her looks like they were all convinced she was crazier than they thought.
New Directions coaxed its reluctantly invalid co-director into Will's car. The kids watched the car until it pulled out of the lot. Dawn couldn't help smiling; they looked like a litter of puppies.
"You were right," she admitted keeping her eyes closed. "They are good kids."
His answering chuckle rose briefly above the sounds of classic rock on the radio before she drifted off.
A too-short time later she woke up when the engine turned off. Her head didn't ache as much and her legs felt less like jelly. Despite telling this to Will, he insisted on helping Dawn into her apartment. Without the kids as an audience it was much easier to accept the favor of Will helping her onto her couch, propped up on whatever pillows she had handy. Once he had her settled on the couch he left a glass of water and some aspirin on the coffee table before turning to her.
"Need anything else before I go?"
She smiled at him. "Let’s see. Pillows, painkiller and TV. Nope, I think I'm good to go."
Dawn started making shooing gestures with her hands. "Will, go. I'm fine. Plus, Terri’s going to be mad enough when she finds out you took me to bed."
The way his jaw dropped was totally worth it.
Will managed to stammer out a goodbye in between her laughs, and with a final wave he shut the door and she heard her lock click. Still laughing to herself, Dawn chugged the aspirin and water and leaned back into her pillows. It was dark out when she heard the door click, and she didn't have a chance to reach for a stashed knife before the door opened.
The man in her doorway was six foot, black hair, and dressed in some sort of explorer outfit. But most telling even after all these years was the eye patch. All these years later Xander Harris was still Xander. He looked a little hesitant before coming into the living room and sitting down on her love seat.
"Hey, Dawnie. Long time no see."