My heart is pierced by cupid; I disdain all glittering gold

[noprevaricating]

Who: tothelibrary and noprevaricating.
What: Stretching Dawn's legs after her mallynap.
When: July 11, early morning, before it gets hot.
Where: The forest path, not far from town.
Summary: Archie wants to make sure Dawn has lots of sensory experiences after being kept in a cell for a few weeks. And by "sensory experiences," we mean "intentions here are totally chaste

Comments

[tothelibrary]

Being a morning person has never been among Dawn's skills. Translating ancient texts, yes. Exorcisms, yes. Buying too many shoes, very yes. But being up and alert and moving around before ten thirty or so? No.

But Archie is the one asking her, so she agrees with a minimum amount of grumbling, leaves a note on the fridge and heads out. She's quiet for the first bit of the walk, yawning every so often and just trusting Archie to lead the way. But between movement and fresh air she starts to perk up, and with one last yawn she slides an arm around Archie's waist, shaking her head.

"Okay, I have to admit it. I'm still not a morning person but you were completely and totally right, this is beautiful."

[noprevaricating]

"What happened to her?"

[tothelibrary]

"She died." 'Warren shot her'. But that, Dawn can't say. "No one was home, because Buffy was hurt too so I stayed with her."

[noprevaricating]

The thought of blaming guns, the tool, for death, is alien to Archie. Men use guns and swords and whatever else they please to kill each other. But babysitting the body of a dear friend isn't something Archie wants to think about Dawn doing, no matter what weird issues Archie has about the sort of thing he's heard about Tara.

"For how long?"

[tothelibrary]

Guns hold a special sort of significance for Dawn. Getting Jack to shoot with her after Grell took a lot, in ways that are a little frightening.

"I'm not actually sure. I got home and no one was there, and I just... stayed."

[noprevaricating]

His arms tighten around her. It's one thing for this to happen in battle, but at home, to a young woman? It's horrifying.

"How long ago?"

[tothelibrary]

"I was fifteen." She sighs, shakily, then swallows. "Anyway, so. Things. You were talking and I derailed."

[noprevaricating]

A beat. "I wasn't...Dawn, are you sure you don't need...?"

[tothelibrary]

There's selfishness mixed in with wanting to know what Archie was going to tell her. Talking about Tara is hard; that she's willing to bring her up to Archie at all is a mark of how much she trusts him. "I'm okay."

[noprevaricating]

He holds her still, warming her. "If you're certain. I...I don't remember what we were talking about."

[tothelibrary]

"Annual sadness, and this year being hard."

[noprevaricating]

He hadn't meant to finish that story. He only wanted to let her know she wasn't alone. Annual sadness. All right. She's asked, she'll know.

"Did I ever tell you I was a prisoner, for a time?"

[tothelibrary]

Dawn shakes her head slowly, brushing against Archie's chest. "You hadn't."

[noprevaricating]

"For two years, in Spain. I tried to escape--" a pause to remember "--five times. The last time, they...locked me away. It was the beginning of March when they put me in. I don't know why I remember that. Most of the time I didn't know what month it was. The seasons are all different in Spain."

He's dodging telling her how bad it was--how cramped the hole was, how damp and how little light there was, and the fact that they left him there for a month. He knows he shouldn't cushion this, but doesn't feel right telling it all. Not to someone who isn't a sailor or a soldier or...or Jilly, who's been through horrible things herself. He doesn't know the word "trauma," but that's what it is.

[tothelibrary]

"Oh my god, Archie." The words are quiet, and Dawn shudders a little. Two years, locked away. Archie doesn't have to say the details for her to get the picture; if he was already in prison, locked away means more. Means worse. Solitary confinement is bad enough in the prisons she knows about, it doesn't take much imagination to piece together what it would have been like before prisoner rights.

[noprevaricating]

"I'm all right now," he says softly. "It's...strange, how I used to believe I could never go back to living day to day, with a normal life. Now, I think...I think they're not even the most...the most important years I've ever lived, exactly. I've had some distance from them now."