she should have expected it; should have known that since becoming the slayer, the universe didn’t allow buffy to know the meaning of happy birthday. the entire night had gone off without a hitch, save for dawn’s temper tantrum that sent her bolting to her room before the cake was cut. other than distractions of the riley variety – the hole that was left in her heart after he left without warning – she had actually enjoyed herself. she was spending time with the people she loved, and the people who loved her back with equal measure. for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t plagued with worries about dawn, or the key, or glory; she was just being buffy, something she wasn’t allowed to be very often.
she should’ve known it was only a matter of time until she came crashing back to reality. the first thing she noticed was the blood, the waves of crimson spilling from dawn’s porcelain flesh. for a moment, she was still, lips parted and breathing paused. what was happening?why was this happening? when she finally finds the strength to move, she surpasses her friends and makes a beeline straight for dawn. hands grasp at her shoulders, grip firm and possibly too tight. in this moment, she wasn’t the slayer – this wasn’t a situation that called for the chosen one. in this moment, she was an older sister, one concerned about the well being and safety of the little girl before her. brows furrowed and lips tugged into a pout, slender digits move to lift dawn’s chin, encouraging dawn to look into her emerald hues.
❛ dawn, what did you do to yourself?❜
“It doesn’t matter, does it?”
The words spill out vacantly, paired with hollow eyes and downturned lips. The steady drip, drip, drip of blood falls to the hardwood floor in perfect time with shallow, uneven breaths as she struggles against the Slayer’s hold, refusing to meet her gaze even when her entire head is forced upward.
“I mean, it’s not like it counts, right? Because I’m not really your sister. I’m not Dawn.“
She couldn’t be. Because Dawn Summers was the five-year-old who fell and scraped her knee, crying and screaming until her mother patched it up and sister kissed it better. Dawn Summers was the nine-year-old who fell off the swing and broke her arm when her sister pushed too hard, but also let her sign the cast first. Dawn Summers was the twelve-year-old who cried after the first time she kissed a boy and didn’t understand why, but still couldn’t help but smile when she finally told her sister every last detail about it.
But none of them were real. She knew that now. So how could she be?
