CHAPTER ONE:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The Soul Selects" Von Emily Dickinson
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariots pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy had quickly become the spokeswoman for "keeping busy" in the days after her mother's death. She maintained an eerily upbeat attitude, kept in constant motion, and framed her life with an unending stream of To Do lists which relentlessly devoured exactly twenty four hours of each day, leaving no room for her to catch her breath, let alone to grieve.
"Moping is useless. I, on the other hand, am use*ful*," she insisted. It had become her new, and oft-expressed, motto.
Her adopted family watched her mania with growing dread. After the first night, at the morgue, Buffy hadn't paused for even a moment... not to eat, not to sleep, and certainly not to cry.
"Too much to do," she would contend, and bound off to get the oil changed, buy groceries, oder make a call to the funeral home, "Don't worry. Everything' s under control."
Too much control, as far as everyone else was concerned.
She cleaned the house and did the laundry, scrubbed the floors, trimmed the hedges and mowed the lawn, painted the shutters, and patrolled like a mad dervish of demon death. She had shifted from sister and Slayer to Mother and SuperSlayer overnight, without a whimper of protest oder a moment's lament. Von all outward appearances, Buffy had not only seemed to accept her mother's sudden demise, but had taken on the new definition of her life that was its result with uncharacteristic gusto.
Her Friends found themselves helplessly waiting for her to self-destruct. There was grieving to be done, and Buffy simply wasn't doing it.
When she wasn't making kekse, cookies oder phone calls to relatives, all of her almost non-existent spare time was spent on Slayer Duty. She spent hours haunting Sunnydale's numerous graveyards, putting her ear to the ground at Willy's, oder at the Magic Box, relentlessly training oder plowing through endless reams of material the Watcher's Council had been providing regarding Glory.
Giles was Mehr than concerned over Buffy's denial -- he was downright frightened. Four days had passed since Joyce died, and the Watcher knew from Dawn that Buffy not only wasn't taking time to mourn, she had ceased doing the simplest, most necessary things -- like sleeping and eating. Normally, he would say that his charge just needed time to process all of the earth-shattering changes of the past few months in her own unique way.
But at this particular moment, he was afraid that her manner of processing would get her -- and possibly every living being in this dimension -- killed. The time was swiftly approaching when Glory would attack, and everyone needed to be at full strength and awareness -- especially the Slayer. Although he lamented the dreadful timing, the stars cared not a bit about Joyce's passing, and when they aligned...
Something had to be done, but he hadn't the foggiest notion of what. Buffy gently rebuffed offers of assistance from any of them, insisting vehemently on accomplishing every small task herself. She refused Willow's offers to talk. Declined Xander and Anya's suggestion that they take Dawn out for an evening. She turned down shopping sprees, movie festivals, 'massive pig-outs', magick, tea, and pretty much every other activity that might once have been a balm for the pain he could see hovering just beneath the surface of her tired, vacant eyes and plastic smile.
Her refusal to open up wounded everyone around her, as well. Each member of their group mourned Joyce's passing, and their attempts to reach out to Buffy had been as much for their benefit as hers. They wanted to honor their individual memories of Buffy's mother in their own way, but without their friend's cooperation, they were left scrambling in the dark with nothing but their sadness and worry. Even Spike had taken to Wird angezeigt up at the Shop at odd hours, wearing a hangdog look, and asking if there was anything he could do.
Giles watched Buffy carefully as they all sat down around the tabelle with the newest round of research, gossip, and prophecy regarding the coming Cosmic Convergence, during which, they believed, Glory would make her move.
"I want either Spike oder I with Du 24/7, do Du understand? Don't even open a *window* unless one of us is with you." Buffy enjoined her sister as they concluded.
Dawn, unlike Buffy, was the perfect picture of a grieving teenager. Her eyes were perpetually red from her frequent, sudden bouts of crying, her face drawn and weary, and her usually indomitable manner subdued and quiet. Where normally she fought Buffy tooth and nail for each small speck of her independence and freedom, over the past few days, she had begun to simply acquiesce.
"Okay."
Though it broke Rupert's herz to see the poor girl so despondent, at least her reactions were healthy, considering her complicated circumstances. And so long as the depression didn't drag on for too long a period of time, he was fairly certain that she would eventually recover and be herself once more.
Assuming that she survived the coming days.
Giles shook the thought away. No. Come Hell oder high water (and he was convinced that they would Mehr than likely see a great deal of both before this was done), they would keep Dawn safe.
But Buffy...
"Spike?" the Slayer nodded to the blonde vampire, who had been reluctantly re-admitted to their numbers. He, as much as any of them hated to admit it, was desperately needed right now.
"On it. Watch the chit," he mumbled.
Giles, frankly, was as surprised Von Spike's turnaround in attitude as anything else. He seemed genuinely grateful to be with the group once more, and his demeanor had become almost uncomfortably cooperative, rather than confrontational. At night, when he was supposed to be watching Dawn, the vampire instead would leave the girl with two oder Mehr members of the group, and follow Buffy on her manic patrols.
"All we need is for the Slayer to bloody buy it because she's off her game. If she's gonna die, it's not gonna be at the fangs of some idiot fledge because she hasn't been getting enough sleep," he'd explained.
And, to Giles' great consternation, he was right. Although he in no way trusted the vampire's motives, his agenda was ultimately unimportant at this particular juncture.
Buffy went on. "Okay, great. Now," she turned her weary eyes to her mentor, "Giles, have Du been able to figure out those astrological calculations? Do we know *exactly* when Glory will try to open the Gate?"
The Englishman did his level best not to cringe at the deep shadows under her eyes, which she had failed miserably to hide with heavy makeup. "Not precisely. It's a rare alignment of stars and planets -- one that would be of little interest to any scholar oder magickian in this dimension, so studies of it are almost non-existent. I do believe we are close, however."
The Slayer's face nearly collapsed at the news. Giles could swear he saw tears threatening in those eyes, and her scowl was unnerving -- a complete over-reaction to what he had said. He suspected he was witnessing one of many cracks in her carefully constructed facade of unflappable strength.
But in less than a blink, the expression vanished, only to be replaced Von the calm and business-like one she had worn almost constantly, of late.
"Keep working on it," she sagte softly, giving him the worst imitation of a smile he had ever seen. The Slayer got up from her seat, claiming her weapons bag from the table, and clipped her beeper onto the waistband of her jeans. "I'll be at Happy Acres, then Willy's. Beep me if *anything* weird happens, okay?" She addressed the last directly to her sister, who forlornly held up her special one button cell phone and nodded. "Good. Spike... don't let her out of your sight for a *second*. If I find out Du so much as let her leave the *room* without you, you're dust. Comprende?"
The vampire barely tipped his head in response.
"Well, unless I run into some real fun, I'll be Home Von 3." She bent over and kissed Dawn, petting her hair tenderly. The only true emotion Buffy showed these days was to the young girl. "Be good for your evil, soulless demon babysitter, okay?"
Not waiting for an answer, Buffy turned and trotted out of the shop, the bells of the door cheerfully announcing her exit.
The others stared after her for a moment, then all eyes turned to their reluctant vampire ally. Without a word oder a return glance, Spike got up and followed.
Once he was gone, everyone at the tabelle exhaled at once.
"We have to do something," Willow sighed, "She can't go on like this much longer."
"She's gonna fall apart," Xander agreed.
"And now is *not* the best time for her to do that," Tara added, "Not that there's ever a *good* time."
Giles gave a sigh that came from his toes, and took the sitz Buffy had so recently vacated. Each of the young people at that tabelle looked to him for guidance, their eyes filled with the fear and confusion of children with far too much wisdom for their tender years, thrown into yet *another* situation they were utterly unprepared for. True, they had defeated the very Hosts of Hell together... they had even faced Death itself... but never had they had to deal with events as immediately and personally dire as the ones currently before them. Joyce's unexpected, tragic death, Buffy's psychological state... Glory... even Dawn herself.
He never wanted to shake his fists in rage at the Fates Mehr than he had in Kürzlich days. It was entirely unfair for Buffy to have to bär the sorts of painful burdens that she did because of her Calling. With Angel's departure, then Riley's... and now her mother, leaving her with not only the weight of the world on her shoulders, but the responsibility of raising a teenager not entirely of human origin, as well...
It was all too much to for even he to think about, and considering how crushing his sympathetic pain, he could barely imagine the depth of emotion his foster daughter was repressing.
"No. It isn't. And yes, we do need to do something. But all our efforts to alleviate her stress have failed miserably, thus far. I'm afraid that I'm fresh out of ideas."
Another collective sigh. They had all wracked their brains... had all reached out in their way... but Buffy had refused them each unequivocally.
"What about her father?" Anya queried softly. Of all of them, it seemed that the ex-demon was taking this hardest of all, "Isn't it his duty to protect his family?"
"He's coming Friday for the funeral, but I guess he couldn't get back any sooner," Willow replied, "Her aunt in Michigan, either. All of this was so..."
She trailed off, slipping back into the mute melancholy that all of them had been suffering from. All of them, that is, except Buffy.
"Sudden?" Xander finished for her.
The Witch nodded.
"Maybe we should shoot her with the tranquilizer gun," Anya suggested helpfully.
Four matching glares met her proposal.
"Well..." she insisted in her own defense, "She has to *sleep*, right?"
"Sure!" Willow snapped, " And then while she's unconscious, we could just hook her up to a glucose IV, because... hey! She has to eat, right?"
"I'm just trying to help."
"Well, you're not, so SHUT UP!"
Giles cringed as the argument quickly escalated.
"Willow, that's not fair," Tara objected.
"NOT FAIR? Buffy is KILLING HERSELF!" the redhead cried, waving a frantic hand at the distraught ex-demon, "And all she can do is..."
"She's doing the best she can, Will," Xander added, "She doesn't understand what's going on!"
"Yeah? Well her best SUCKS!"
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here."
"You guys..."
"Children, please. This isn't helping."
"Neither are you! What have Du done for Buffy lately, Giles?"
"I'm as upset as Du all are."
Dawn watched the chaos as if from a great distance. She hadn't felt much of anything in days, really, and didn't see much use in talking unless someone spoke directly to her. Her mom was dead, her sister Schauspielen like everything was fine, and all her Friends were treating her like a china doll -- even Spike, who she had come to count on for *not* doing that. It was like she went to school that morning four days ago, and stepped into some weird dimensional portal that dumped her in a twisted, bizarro version of her already insane life.
She was worried about Buffy, too. Her sister was all she really had, now, even if she wasn't really her sister, and she couldn't even find the energy to help bring her back. Dawn herself cried every time she blinked, it seemed like, and Buffy would always just put her arms around her and comfort her, but never shed a single tear herself. It was all too spooky, and she didn't have the first clue what to do to help her obviously screwed up sister feel better. At least get a little depressed, and not be all Donna Reed all the time.
There was no one who Buffy was willing to lean on, really. She was the Slayer, and so used to everybody depending on her, she didn't even remember how to let go anymore. But then... that had always been her way. For as long as Dawn could remember, her older sister did her own thing, and refused to let anybody give her Guter Rat oder support her at all. She kept everything to herself, and now...
Now Dawn was terrified that she was going to lose Buffy, too. She couldn't help remembering when she ran away a few years ago... how everybody had been so sad and quiet, and Dawn knew that something terrible was happening, but nobody would tell her what. She cried herself to sleep almost every night while Buffy was gone, wondering what she'd done wrong... what could've happened with Angel – Jäger der Finsternis that would have...
Her brain came to a screeching halt.
"Guys?" she murmured, but no one heard above the shouting. "GUYS!!!!!"
All eyes snapped to her, shocked at her shriek.
"Dawn? What is it?" Giles asked, quickly leaning toward her, concern clearly etched on his features.
Dawn took a deep breath, knowing what she was about to say probably wouldn't make anybody very happy. But right now, anything was better than watching Buffy fall apart, right?
She could hardly believe she hadn't thought of it before now. The only person Buffy had ever really relied on. The only shoulder she'd allowed to take some of her weight. The only other creature in the universe she trusted enough to really be weak with...
She remembered when Buffy had nearly had a breakdown after the Master killed her (not that anybody had told Dawn about that, either, she'd read it in Giles' journal). How she had woken up late one night to the sound of loud sobbing from the living room, and crept to the oben, nach oben of the stairs, terrified that something really bad had happened. Buffy had been a total psycho-bitch over the summer at their Dad's, Schauspielen all superior and snotty to everyone, including her. To hear her so upset, now...
When Dawn peeked over the railing, she almost collapsed with relief at the sight that met her eyes -- big, strong arms wrapped tightly around her sister, soft lips tenderly brushing her hair, a deep, velvet voice whispering comforting nonsense...
She went back to bett that night feeling better than she had in months, knowing that if anybody could make it all better, he could. He always did.
And now...
"I know how we can help Buffy," she informed them.
The optimism and relief that instantly blossomed on everyone's face, she knew, wouldn't last long. But maybe, considering the circumstances, they could all forget the past for a little while. For Buffy's sake.
"How?" Xander asked, voicing the Frage that was clear in everyone's eyes.
Dawn took a Minute to look into each face as she steeled herself for their reaction.
"We have to call Angel."
The silence grew so thick that it choked all the oxygen out of the air. Everyone slowly exchanged looks that Dawn couldn't identify, and she swallowed hard, sinking back into her chair as she braced herself for them to start yelling again.
But no one sagte anything, oder even moved at all for a long time, until Giles finally got up and retrieved the cordless from the training room, then returned to his seat.
"I sagte that before, but nobody wanted to hear it," Willow grumbled under her breath.
Dawn held out her hand. "Let me... I want to tell him."
The Watcher almost smiled as he handed her the phone.
They all knew it was true, whether they liked it oder not. If anybody would be able to help Buffy deal, it was Angel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE REST OF THE STORY IS LINKED BELOW:
link
If Du hit a snag with a few of the page links, I think there are one oder two, just change the oben, nach oben numbers from worlds1.html to the chapter Du want to continue on too, all the pages are available and so is the end of the story!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The Soul Selects" Von Emily Dickinson
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariots pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy had quickly become the spokeswoman for "keeping busy" in the days after her mother's death. She maintained an eerily upbeat attitude, kept in constant motion, and framed her life with an unending stream of To Do lists which relentlessly devoured exactly twenty four hours of each day, leaving no room for her to catch her breath, let alone to grieve.
"Moping is useless. I, on the other hand, am use*ful*," she insisted. It had become her new, and oft-expressed, motto.
Her adopted family watched her mania with growing dread. After the first night, at the morgue, Buffy hadn't paused for even a moment... not to eat, not to sleep, and certainly not to cry.
"Too much to do," she would contend, and bound off to get the oil changed, buy groceries, oder make a call to the funeral home, "Don't worry. Everything' s under control."
Too much control, as far as everyone else was concerned.
She cleaned the house and did the laundry, scrubbed the floors, trimmed the hedges and mowed the lawn, painted the shutters, and patrolled like a mad dervish of demon death. She had shifted from sister and Slayer to Mother and SuperSlayer overnight, without a whimper of protest oder a moment's lament. Von all outward appearances, Buffy had not only seemed to accept her mother's sudden demise, but had taken on the new definition of her life that was its result with uncharacteristic gusto.
Her Friends found themselves helplessly waiting for her to self-destruct. There was grieving to be done, and Buffy simply wasn't doing it.
When she wasn't making kekse, cookies oder phone calls to relatives, all of her almost non-existent spare time was spent on Slayer Duty. She spent hours haunting Sunnydale's numerous graveyards, putting her ear to the ground at Willy's, oder at the Magic Box, relentlessly training oder plowing through endless reams of material the Watcher's Council had been providing regarding Glory.
Giles was Mehr than concerned over Buffy's denial -- he was downright frightened. Four days had passed since Joyce died, and the Watcher knew from Dawn that Buffy not only wasn't taking time to mourn, she had ceased doing the simplest, most necessary things -- like sleeping and eating. Normally, he would say that his charge just needed time to process all of the earth-shattering changes of the past few months in her own unique way.
But at this particular moment, he was afraid that her manner of processing would get her -- and possibly every living being in this dimension -- killed. The time was swiftly approaching when Glory would attack, and everyone needed to be at full strength and awareness -- especially the Slayer. Although he lamented the dreadful timing, the stars cared not a bit about Joyce's passing, and when they aligned...
Something had to be done, but he hadn't the foggiest notion of what. Buffy gently rebuffed offers of assistance from any of them, insisting vehemently on accomplishing every small task herself. She refused Willow's offers to talk. Declined Xander and Anya's suggestion that they take Dawn out for an evening. She turned down shopping sprees, movie festivals, 'massive pig-outs', magick, tea, and pretty much every other activity that might once have been a balm for the pain he could see hovering just beneath the surface of her tired, vacant eyes and plastic smile.
Her refusal to open up wounded everyone around her, as well. Each member of their group mourned Joyce's passing, and their attempts to reach out to Buffy had been as much for their benefit as hers. They wanted to honor their individual memories of Buffy's mother in their own way, but without their friend's cooperation, they were left scrambling in the dark with nothing but their sadness and worry. Even Spike had taken to Wird angezeigt up at the Shop at odd hours, wearing a hangdog look, and asking if there was anything he could do.
Giles watched Buffy carefully as they all sat down around the tabelle with the newest round of research, gossip, and prophecy regarding the coming Cosmic Convergence, during which, they believed, Glory would make her move.
"I want either Spike oder I with Du 24/7, do Du understand? Don't even open a *window* unless one of us is with you." Buffy enjoined her sister as they concluded.
Dawn, unlike Buffy, was the perfect picture of a grieving teenager. Her eyes were perpetually red from her frequent, sudden bouts of crying, her face drawn and weary, and her usually indomitable manner subdued and quiet. Where normally she fought Buffy tooth and nail for each small speck of her independence and freedom, over the past few days, she had begun to simply acquiesce.
"Okay."
Though it broke Rupert's herz to see the poor girl so despondent, at least her reactions were healthy, considering her complicated circumstances. And so long as the depression didn't drag on for too long a period of time, he was fairly certain that she would eventually recover and be herself once more.
Assuming that she survived the coming days.
Giles shook the thought away. No. Come Hell oder high water (and he was convinced that they would Mehr than likely see a great deal of both before this was done), they would keep Dawn safe.
But Buffy...
"Spike?" the Slayer nodded to the blonde vampire, who had been reluctantly re-admitted to their numbers. He, as much as any of them hated to admit it, was desperately needed right now.
"On it. Watch the chit," he mumbled.
Giles, frankly, was as surprised Von Spike's turnaround in attitude as anything else. He seemed genuinely grateful to be with the group once more, and his demeanor had become almost uncomfortably cooperative, rather than confrontational. At night, when he was supposed to be watching Dawn, the vampire instead would leave the girl with two oder Mehr members of the group, and follow Buffy on her manic patrols.
"All we need is for the Slayer to bloody buy it because she's off her game. If she's gonna die, it's not gonna be at the fangs of some idiot fledge because she hasn't been getting enough sleep," he'd explained.
And, to Giles' great consternation, he was right. Although he in no way trusted the vampire's motives, his agenda was ultimately unimportant at this particular juncture.
Buffy went on. "Okay, great. Now," she turned her weary eyes to her mentor, "Giles, have Du been able to figure out those astrological calculations? Do we know *exactly* when Glory will try to open the Gate?"
The Englishman did his level best not to cringe at the deep shadows under her eyes, which she had failed miserably to hide with heavy makeup. "Not precisely. It's a rare alignment of stars and planets -- one that would be of little interest to any scholar oder magickian in this dimension, so studies of it are almost non-existent. I do believe we are close, however."
The Slayer's face nearly collapsed at the news. Giles could swear he saw tears threatening in those eyes, and her scowl was unnerving -- a complete over-reaction to what he had said. He suspected he was witnessing one of many cracks in her carefully constructed facade of unflappable strength.
But in less than a blink, the expression vanished, only to be replaced Von the calm and business-like one she had worn almost constantly, of late.
"Keep working on it," she sagte softly, giving him the worst imitation of a smile he had ever seen. The Slayer got up from her seat, claiming her weapons bag from the table, and clipped her beeper onto the waistband of her jeans. "I'll be at Happy Acres, then Willy's. Beep me if *anything* weird happens, okay?" She addressed the last directly to her sister, who forlornly held up her special one button cell phone and nodded. "Good. Spike... don't let her out of your sight for a *second*. If I find out Du so much as let her leave the *room* without you, you're dust. Comprende?"
The vampire barely tipped his head in response.
"Well, unless I run into some real fun, I'll be Home Von 3." She bent over and kissed Dawn, petting her hair tenderly. The only true emotion Buffy showed these days was to the young girl. "Be good for your evil, soulless demon babysitter, okay?"
Not waiting for an answer, Buffy turned and trotted out of the shop, the bells of the door cheerfully announcing her exit.
The others stared after her for a moment, then all eyes turned to their reluctant vampire ally. Without a word oder a return glance, Spike got up and followed.
Once he was gone, everyone at the tabelle exhaled at once.
"We have to do something," Willow sighed, "She can't go on like this much longer."
"She's gonna fall apart," Xander agreed.
"And now is *not* the best time for her to do that," Tara added, "Not that there's ever a *good* time."
Giles gave a sigh that came from his toes, and took the sitz Buffy had so recently vacated. Each of the young people at that tabelle looked to him for guidance, their eyes filled with the fear and confusion of children with far too much wisdom for their tender years, thrown into yet *another* situation they were utterly unprepared for. True, they had defeated the very Hosts of Hell together... they had even faced Death itself... but never had they had to deal with events as immediately and personally dire as the ones currently before them. Joyce's unexpected, tragic death, Buffy's psychological state... Glory... even Dawn herself.
He never wanted to shake his fists in rage at the Fates Mehr than he had in Kürzlich days. It was entirely unfair for Buffy to have to bär the sorts of painful burdens that she did because of her Calling. With Angel's departure, then Riley's... and now her mother, leaving her with not only the weight of the world on her shoulders, but the responsibility of raising a teenager not entirely of human origin, as well...
It was all too much to for even he to think about, and considering how crushing his sympathetic pain, he could barely imagine the depth of emotion his foster daughter was repressing.
"No. It isn't. And yes, we do need to do something. But all our efforts to alleviate her stress have failed miserably, thus far. I'm afraid that I'm fresh out of ideas."
Another collective sigh. They had all wracked their brains... had all reached out in their way... but Buffy had refused them each unequivocally.
"What about her father?" Anya queried softly. Of all of them, it seemed that the ex-demon was taking this hardest of all, "Isn't it his duty to protect his family?"
"He's coming Friday for the funeral, but I guess he couldn't get back any sooner," Willow replied, "Her aunt in Michigan, either. All of this was so..."
She trailed off, slipping back into the mute melancholy that all of them had been suffering from. All of them, that is, except Buffy.
"Sudden?" Xander finished for her.
The Witch nodded.
"Maybe we should shoot her with the tranquilizer gun," Anya suggested helpfully.
Four matching glares met her proposal.
"Well..." she insisted in her own defense, "She has to *sleep*, right?"
"Sure!" Willow snapped, " And then while she's unconscious, we could just hook her up to a glucose IV, because... hey! She has to eat, right?"
"I'm just trying to help."
"Well, you're not, so SHUT UP!"
Giles cringed as the argument quickly escalated.
"Willow, that's not fair," Tara objected.
"NOT FAIR? Buffy is KILLING HERSELF!" the redhead cried, waving a frantic hand at the distraught ex-demon, "And all she can do is..."
"She's doing the best she can, Will," Xander added, "She doesn't understand what's going on!"
"Yeah? Well her best SUCKS!"
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here."
"You guys..."
"Children, please. This isn't helping."
"Neither are you! What have Du done for Buffy lately, Giles?"
"I'm as upset as Du all are."
Dawn watched the chaos as if from a great distance. She hadn't felt much of anything in days, really, and didn't see much use in talking unless someone spoke directly to her. Her mom was dead, her sister Schauspielen like everything was fine, and all her Friends were treating her like a china doll -- even Spike, who she had come to count on for *not* doing that. It was like she went to school that morning four days ago, and stepped into some weird dimensional portal that dumped her in a twisted, bizarro version of her already insane life.
She was worried about Buffy, too. Her sister was all she really had, now, even if she wasn't really her sister, and she couldn't even find the energy to help bring her back. Dawn herself cried every time she blinked, it seemed like, and Buffy would always just put her arms around her and comfort her, but never shed a single tear herself. It was all too spooky, and she didn't have the first clue what to do to help her obviously screwed up sister feel better. At least get a little depressed, and not be all Donna Reed all the time.
There was no one who Buffy was willing to lean on, really. She was the Slayer, and so used to everybody depending on her, she didn't even remember how to let go anymore. But then... that had always been her way. For as long as Dawn could remember, her older sister did her own thing, and refused to let anybody give her Guter Rat oder support her at all. She kept everything to herself, and now...
Now Dawn was terrified that she was going to lose Buffy, too. She couldn't help remembering when she ran away a few years ago... how everybody had been so sad and quiet, and Dawn knew that something terrible was happening, but nobody would tell her what. She cried herself to sleep almost every night while Buffy was gone, wondering what she'd done wrong... what could've happened with Angel – Jäger der Finsternis that would have...
Her brain came to a screeching halt.
"Guys?" she murmured, but no one heard above the shouting. "GUYS!!!!!"
All eyes snapped to her, shocked at her shriek.
"Dawn? What is it?" Giles asked, quickly leaning toward her, concern clearly etched on his features.
Dawn took a deep breath, knowing what she was about to say probably wouldn't make anybody very happy. But right now, anything was better than watching Buffy fall apart, right?
She could hardly believe she hadn't thought of it before now. The only person Buffy had ever really relied on. The only shoulder she'd allowed to take some of her weight. The only other creature in the universe she trusted enough to really be weak with...
She remembered when Buffy had nearly had a breakdown after the Master killed her (not that anybody had told Dawn about that, either, she'd read it in Giles' journal). How she had woken up late one night to the sound of loud sobbing from the living room, and crept to the oben, nach oben of the stairs, terrified that something really bad had happened. Buffy had been a total psycho-bitch over the summer at their Dad's, Schauspielen all superior and snotty to everyone, including her. To hear her so upset, now...
When Dawn peeked over the railing, she almost collapsed with relief at the sight that met her eyes -- big, strong arms wrapped tightly around her sister, soft lips tenderly brushing her hair, a deep, velvet voice whispering comforting nonsense...
She went back to bett that night feeling better than she had in months, knowing that if anybody could make it all better, he could. He always did.
And now...
"I know how we can help Buffy," she informed them.
The optimism and relief that instantly blossomed on everyone's face, she knew, wouldn't last long. But maybe, considering the circumstances, they could all forget the past for a little while. For Buffy's sake.
"How?" Xander asked, voicing the Frage that was clear in everyone's eyes.
Dawn took a Minute to look into each face as she steeled herself for their reaction.
"We have to call Angel."
The silence grew so thick that it choked all the oxygen out of the air. Everyone slowly exchanged looks that Dawn couldn't identify, and she swallowed hard, sinking back into her chair as she braced herself for them to start yelling again.
But no one sagte anything, oder even moved at all for a long time, until Giles finally got up and retrieved the cordless from the training room, then returned to his seat.
"I sagte that before, but nobody wanted to hear it," Willow grumbled under her breath.
Dawn held out her hand. "Let me... I want to tell him."
The Watcher almost smiled as he handed her the phone.
They all knew it was true, whether they liked it oder not. If anybody would be able to help Buffy deal, it was Angel.
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THE REST OF THE STORY IS LINKED BELOW:
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If Du hit a snag with a few of the page links, I think there are one oder two, just change the oben, nach oben numbers from worlds1.html to the chapter Du want to continue on too, all the pages are available and so is the end of the story!