How to go On.: how to go on
by pagan pylea princess
Title: How to go on
Author: Pagan Pylea Princess
Characters: Dawn, Willow
Summary: Dawn thinks about Buffy’s death and the introduction of her replacement.
Disclaimer: Wish I owned the rights to these fantabulous people, but unfortunately I don’t.
Feedback: I’d be real grateful.

****

Willow pulled up outside Janice's right on time in my Mom's old SUV. She let down the passenger side window and gave a grin.
"Hey Dawnie. You ready?" she smiled pleasantly. But I know she's really wondering if I'm ready to go home because of all the stuff that's happened there. She's asking me whether I want to go home.
I give a sigh and then nod, and throw my things into the trunk. The past few weeks I've spent as little time as possible at 1630 Revello Drive. It doesn't really feel like home anymore. All the little whispers of Mom and Buffy. Too much stuff going on.

I spent the first few nights in Willow's dorm room, but the college found out and frowned on it. Guess they have some kind of rule about that.
So I spent a couple of night's at Spike's crypt, but the guy was completely burned out. He was always crying when he thought I couldn't hear, and was basically bordering on crazy. And I didn't want to be a burden.
So I went and stayed at Xander and Anya's, and it was good for a while. But Xander was always at work, and Anya was always at the Magic Box, and Giles didn't think it was a very good idea for me to be spending all that time alone in the apartment. He said something about it being too lonely and he couldn't bear to think of me all by myself, or something. But I don't know if that was the real reason or not. I thought maybe it was because he thought I'd try and resurrect Buffy or whatever, like I'd tried to do with Mom. I can't tell with Giles, he's too good at lying.
So then Willow and Tara had come up with the idea to move into my house. God, that sound's weird. My house. Guess it is now. I mean, it belonged to mom, and then to Buffy, so I guess I kind of own it.

So I spend most night's there, but it's a little eerie. I was afraid to go in Buffy's room for a long time, and I didn't want to go in Mom's room, even when Tara and Willow had moved into it. I love them to bits, but I kinda wish they'd slept downstairs or something. It was still, and always would be, Mom's room. That's the way I’d wanted it to be anyway.

I remember one night waking up at the sound of the front door clicking shut. I'd checked my alarm clock and it was, like, midnight or something. I knew everyone else was up, I could hear Willow and Xander downstairs, so Anya and Tara had to be up with them. And I'd wondered who would come in at that time of night. And for an instant I'd gone back a couple of weeks and somehow thought it would be Buffy. I mean, that was normal time for end of patrol. Guess I was dreaming. But a flicker of hope had rose up inside, and I guess I was wishing so hard that it was her, I believed it.

I'd gone downstairs and come face to face of her. But of course, by the time I'd reached the bottom of the staircase, I'd woken up a little.

And realised how insane it was.

How can I be staring at Buffy? I'd thought.
But sure enough, there she stood, right in front of me. I'd frozen solid at that point. Willow told me they'd all panicked, thinking they'd sent me into some schizo coma or something. But I was just so...

"Buffy?"
"Hello. I'm your sister. You were recently a key." She'd spoken in an inanely happy voice.

And then I knew.

It wasn't my sister at all. I'd never felt disappointment like it. My fists curled into balls and shook with rage, till I could feel the palms become sticky and wet with crimson blood, as my nails dug into them.
I could hear Willow from somewhere that seemed so far away, telling me they didn't mean to scare me, that it was just the Buffybot and I should go back to bed. That's when I noticed Spike stood behind her.
It.
The Buffybot.

He was covered in bruises and bleeding from wounds that scarred his face.
I later found out it was all self-inflicted.

"You... You brought her here?" I'd asked, addressing no one in particular, voice trembling with anger, tears in my eyes and rage bubbling inside me.
"Yes! Spike brought me here. Isn't he gorgeous?" The bot grinned. I saw Spike flinch out of the corner of my eye, and wanted to smack the bot in it's stupid face, scream at her until she stopped moving, stopped smiling in that stupid way and stopped talking like her sister, cause it wasn't her! It could never be her!

But they didn't understand. They all kept going on about how they had to fix her up so that the underworld wouldn't know Buffy was dead. Which meant they'd all have to pretend that Buffy was alive and well.

And I had to pretend to the world that my sister wasn't dead.

When all I'd wanted to do was climb onto the rooftop and scream in agony until everything I was just ceased to exist. Cause I was meant to die on that platform. Not Buffy. Wouldn't the world be a better place if they had the Slayer? In place of some stupid teenager with an inferiority complex?


I slumped into the passenger seat of the SUV and waved goodbye to Janice. Last night, she'd asked me if anything was wrong, and told me that I'd been acting really weird since last week.

But I wasn't aloud to tell her why.

"So, Dawn. You have fun?" The redheaded witch asked me. I knew that Willow - Buffy's best and closest friend - had to be hurting pretty bad right now. And I was grateful for Willow to be taking care of me. But I couldn't act like it. I didn't have the energy.

She could never understand how hard it will be for me, every day, to have lost Buffy. None of them will understand. Deep inside I laugh a little at Willow's question. I don't feel like I can ever have fun again, ever smile, ever laugh.
Ever live.
Not even for Buffy.

God, I can't even do that, and it was her dying wish. I'm such a loser.
And I will always feel ten times worse than Willow, or Spike, or anyone. Cause it's my fault. All of it. I'm not even real. Buffy had to give up her life for someone who's not even real to live.
And the guilt is crippling.

But I know that the only reason Willow's not curled up at home next to Tara crying her eyes out and praying it's all a dream with her aching heart, is because I give her a reason to get up. To carry on, and to help those helpless. Same goes for Spike. Xander. Anya. Giles.

So I have to make sure that they think I'm ok. I can't be a huge disappointment to them too. If I'm shut down… if I'm whiney and mopey like always, I'll make things ten times worse. And I can't force them to be in anymore pain. Not now. I couldn't bear it.

At least I'll know that Willow will feel a little better.

"Yeah." I reply, trying to sound chipper.
"It was a blast."




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