Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Dawn, Spike
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike Themed Drabbles and Icons: Shadow
Warning(s): Cannon Character Death, [Spoiler (click to open)]Suicide Content
Word Count: 584
Date Written: 13 November 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
She trembled in the light of day. He’d stopped her last night, but he couldn’t stop her now. He was asleep, practically unconscious back in his crypt. He had no idea she’d snuck out, no idea she’d managed to hide a knife from him . . .
In a way, Dawn almost felt sorry for him. He had promised her sister, after all, that he would protect her, and he’d done such a fine job of that. The problem, of course, was that he couldn’t protect her. No one could protect her from the one thing that hurt the most, not even Buffy. Her sister had given her life to save hers, but she had left her in a world in which she had no business being.
Buffy was the real person; she was almost only a cosmic key given life to protect her. Buffy never should have died for her. She never should have lived! Tears streamed down her face as she wished yet again that her sister had just listened to her. She should have let her go and lived herself, but she hadn’t. And now there was no way Dawn wanted to stay in this life without her!
She felt like screaming, but she knew a verbal cry would give her away. Spike would wake no matter how deep his sleep and try to come after her. He might get burned. Worse yet, he might actually manage to stop her yet again. “No more,” she whispered, trembling from head to toe. “No more.”
She held the knife before her and was just about to plunge it into her own heart when something tackled her from behind. Strong arms wrapped swiftly around her and knocked the knife out of her hand. She smelled smoke and freshly turned earth and suddenly let out a cry as a flame leaped before her very face. She acted swiftly, beating out the flame with her bare hands. They stung with blinding pain that was still less than what she felt in her heart. Her tears seemed unstoppable now as Spike pulled her against him again.
“You idiot!” she snarled and hit him. “You could burn up out here!”
“You’re not gonna let me,” he said, sounding as though he was smirking as he pulled her deeper into the shadows beneath a tree, “no more’n I’m gonna let you go, Nibblet. We’ve got each other, and I know it’s not enough, but we’re going to have to make it be enough.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly against him. “For Buffy.”
She looked down. There was no stopping her tears now, and she couldn’t see for them. But she knew he had thrown some kind of big, heavy cloak over himself and dared to boldly dash out into the sun just to stop her. To save her he’d almost given his eternal life. Why was everybody around her so damned determined to keep her alive even at the point of killing themselves?! She sobbed openly, and he held her as she cried and cried and cried.
He held her until the shadows lengthened and dusk began to fall. He held her until, her voice barely audible for the exhaustion that pierced her through her grief, she said tiredly, “Let’s go home,” and he carried her back not to their home for they had none without Buffy but to the deathly crypt that was the closest thing that passed for their home in their heroine’s absence.