Mine
By Emily
She doesn't know how she's got this far. As she stands there, things shattering and severing inside of her, her feet strangly rooted, she doesn't want to remember. But if she closes her eyes, ignores the sharp sting of tears and tries then she can remember how it started.
It was after Buffy. Not long after, a few weeks maybe. She can't remember the time or the date or even what day of the week it was but she remembers every second of it.
He looked hard at her and told her to go. That he wanted to be alone. She shook her head petulantly like the little girl she used to be. He started to yell at her, his blue eyes glowing, angry - because Buffy was gone she supposed. He said that she was really gone, for good. He couldn't ever get her back, his Buffy, his Slayer. He'd lost her. A silent rage filled Dawn then. *Buffy had never been his in the first place. Never been his to lose*. The thought seared through her brain and oh she wanted to scream it out. She bit her lip and said nothing. It'd been so long since she'd said what she thought, what difference would one more time make?
She remembers the way he looked at her then. Blue eyes, at first cold and harsh but something changed in them, something filled them. Not warmth, something foreign and new to her. She didn't look away then because she'd done enough of that in her short life.
Dawn doesn't remember exactly when he kissed her, she remembers lips pressing hard against her though, fingers brushing her swollen lips and then hands reaching around her. Her hands went around his waist, clinging to the folds of Spike's leather coat. She felt his hands rove down, brushing and skimming against her bare skin, cupping the curves of her body. Dawn didn't want to pull away.
As his touch became more urgent, hands pulling at her clothes she reached for his too, her nails scraping against his skin. Eyes closed as in a dream but this so much more real than anything she'd ever experienced. She protested a little, just a little, not much. Spike's lips moved against her neck and he whispered in her ear. *I won't hurt you, Bit.*
Dawn often remembered that as much as she tried to forget. Because of course he had. Not then, he was almost gentle then, but later. Later he hurt her more than she'd thought possible.
She didn't suppress her scream as he went inside of her. Later as she put on her clothes she noticed a trickle of dried blood on her leg. Dawn didn't move to clean it off. Her fingers were clumsy and tired, still hot. Her body was sticky and when she stood up, fully clothed but feeling as naked as before he looked at her. This time she *couldn't* look away. His eyes dropped, released hers and Dawn turned to go, a flush covering her cheeks. How funny she should blush now.
He said her name as she left, but she couldn't stop walking. The summer passed like that. Days and nights. Sometimes they talked but never about Buffy. Never about what they were doing. He stroked her hair sometimes, long fingers touching her so completely and Dawn couldn't help but be affected. She wished she wasn't...
No, she doesn't know how she's got this far. She wishes she wasn't shattered and severed inside. She doesn't want to cry, she's cried over him before but it was never like this. The look in his eyes as he looks at Buffy - her sister who she loves and died and is now back and Dawn should be overjoyed but instead she feels a painful jealousy - is more painful than any rejection she's imagined or words he could say.
Dawn doesn't know why she feels this way, like she's lost something so precious. He was never hers to begin with. Never hers to lose.