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Summary: Dawn crash lands in St. Louis after the events of Wrecked. Four years younger and without a way back, what's a girl to do?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > Dawn-CenteredwillowbeeFR1556,44076722,8831 Nov 0612 Nov 06No

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don’t own or make a profit from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Anita Blake
Spoilers: S6 Buffy, Everything for Anita
Timeframe: Buffy: Wrecked, Anita: Begins right before Lunatic Café
Pairings: usual for Anita, none for Dawn at the moment (subject to change)
Rating: FR 15

Chapter 1


Anita looked up at Dolph. “I have no idea what happened here or what spell was used. I’ve never encountered this type of magic before. It doesn’t feel evil, but it doesn’t feel harmless either. It should be safe here, though. Whatever caused this is gone.”

“Good. Zerbrowski is waiting for you at the hospital.”

“The victim?”

“We’re not sure yet,” said Dolph. “We’re not questioning her until you arrive, though. One of the paramedics is a clairvoyant. He was terrified of her. Kept talking about light and something not being real. They’re at St. Louis University Hospital.”


Dawn clutched a hand to her head, trying desperately to remember what had happened. Trying to remember how she had ended up here.

Her left arm was in a cast. An injury she had no doubt received from that car accident. Let’s see… Rack, getting into a car with Willow, a car accident, and then… nothing. She’d woken up in this hospital room, her injuries taken care of.

This definitely was not Sunnydale. There was snow outside. It hadn’t snowed in Sunnydale since she was eleven. And it was already March.

A doctor had come by a couple minutes earlier. He’d just asked how she was feeling. Stupid man hadn’t even answered any of her questions.

There was a soft knock on the door. Dawn lowered her hand to look at the only entrance to her room. A man in a mismatching suit walked in, followed by a black haired woman. For a moment Dawn’s eyes flickered to the gun the man had hidden under his jacket, then to the knives and gun she knew the woman was concealing.

“Hi, I’m Detective Zerbrowski and this is our preternatural consultant, Anita Blake,” said the man. “We need to ask you some questions.”

Dawn bit her lip for a moment. “Can I see your badge?”

“Sure,” said Detective Zerbrowski. He fished his badge out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Examining the badge, she asked, “Where am I? The doctor wouldn’t tell me.”

“St. Louis University Hospital.”

Dawn dropped the badge. “St. Louis? But… How?”

“What’s wrong?” asked Zerbrowski.

She glanced at him, then at Blake. She couldn’t, wouldn’t tell them. Dawn really had no desire to end up in a mental institution like Buffy had that time. She could still remember it quite clearly. Visiting her then fifteen-year-old sister. The sights, the smells of… illness. The way that those patients had stared at her, occasionally muttering about lights.

For a moment Dawn wondered exactly how long she’s been in existence. Then she realized that preternatural was another word for supernatural.

The woman-Ms Blake, was something. Not a witch or a demon or a vamp or even a lycanthrope, but definitely something. A type of magic user she’s never encountered before. Did the police know about magic? Was she in another world?

Dawn’s eyes widened. Another world. No. It couldn’t-she couldn’t… But she was the Key. A magical object turned human. Her purpose was to open dimensional portals. The car accident. That had to be it. Somehow, she had bled in the wrong place at the wrong time and opened up a dimensional portal.

She bit her lip, feeling her eyes tear up. She was in another world. And there was no way home. No way back. And even if there was a way back, they might not even remember her anymore.

She remembered looking up possible spells the monks could have used to create her and insert her into people’s memories. Quite a few of those spells only would break and erase Dawn Summers from their memories completely if she died or left the dimension.

Dawn sniffled. Before she could even ask, a tissue was handed to her. She blew her nose loudly. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she looked back up.

“How about you tell us your name instead. Is that ok with you?” Zerbrowski said gently.

“Dawn. My full name is Dawn Marie Summers. I was born on June 21 1986 in Los Angeles at Cedar-Sinai Medial Center. My mother was Joyce Summers nee White and my father in Henry Summers. My legal guardian is Buffy Summers, my older sister,” Dawn stated mechanically.


Anita watched the girl answer Zerbrowski’s questions. For a twelve year old, she was rather mature for her age. She’s had to grow up too quickly. A rather easy fact to tell if you looked at Dawn’s eyes. Cop eyes.

“Do you know what happened to you?”

“I was in a car. It crashed.” Dawn bit her lip. “I think I accidentally used my powers.”

Before Zerbrowski could say anything, Anita interrupted, “And those powers are?”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to describe them,” she said quietly.

In the kindest voice she could manage, Anita said, “That’s alright. Do you know if you’re a witch or a psychic?”

Dawn stared at Anita for several long moments. Her large gray eyes seemed to be judging her. She tucked a strand of long brown hair behind her ear.

“You did a blood test didn’t you?”

“The results aren’t back yet, but yes,” said Zerbrowski.

“My mother was… let’s just leave it not human, and my father is a vampire.”


Dawn knew that she had to tell them. The doctors never admitted it out loud, but she had seen the files. They assumed that Buffy was an anomaly, unwilling to admit that they were not even sure whether or not she was human.

She was made from Buffy’s blood. But it was more than that. After finding out what she was, Dawn had hacked into the Initiative’s files. She was made from Buffy’s blood alright. Just not how she had expected. Perhaps the monks had known what they were doing when they created her. The daughter Buffy and Spike could have had. Even the Initiative had noted that her blood was different from that of a human.

“What species was your mother?” asked Ms Blake.

“I’m not supposed to say,” Dawn said resolutely. Best not to tempt fate. She never could figure out if Slayers were girls with the powers of a demon, or demons born to human parents. “I’d get into lot’s of trouble if I told.”

“What kind of trouble?” Ms Blake had a hard look on her face.

Best to play this up as well as she could. Glancing at the windows, door, then Ms Blake, she said, “Th-they’d kill me. They don’t like me already. Cause of my father. Please don’t make me tell!” She let her eyes tear up again. “I don’t wanna die!”

The Watchers Council had tried to kill both her and Joyce Summers on at least one occasion. And if they ever found out she had blabbed about the Slayer, not even dimensional barriers would keep her safe from them.

“Alright, alright. We won’t ask again,” said Ms Blake. “Why don’t you tell us about your father instead. Like, which line he comes from. That sort of thing.”

Sniffling again, Dawn said, “Aurelius. Or something like that. My father never really talked about them. He’d talk about his sire sometimes, but that was it.”


Nearly an hour later Zerbrowski and Anita stood outside Dawn’s room They had been joined by Dolph and one of the hospital doctors, Dr. Peterson.

“Miss Summers suffers from a mild form of Vlad Syndrome. Her mother’s non-human heritage is the only reason I can think of for why Miss Summers even managed to be born, let alone live this long,” explained the doctor. “We cannot identify her mother’s species, although initial tests suggests that it is similar to that of a Fay.”

“And her injuries?” asked Dolph.

“It is very possible that she broke her arm in a car accident. There are some worrying things though.” Dolph motioned for the doctor to continue. “It seems that while Miss Summers heals quite a bit faster than a human, she does scar. There is evidence of a vampire bite on her left elbow. There is also signs of…”


With a yawn Dawn stood up. Taking the IV, hung from the metal pole with wheels in it with her, she walked to the bathroom. Finished with her business, she started to wash her hands. A quick glance up at the mirror and then back down as Dawn dried herself off.

Dawn stopped short. Glancing back up at the mirror, the sixteen year old resisted the urge to let out a string of curses that would have made Spike blush. Goddamn monks.

Her face was different, younger. Rounder. Baby fat still apparent. For the first time, Dawn noticed that her chest was almost flat. A quick check revealed that the scars on her stomach and wrist were still there.

At least she knew which spell the monks had used to create her body. Unfortunately, they had tied her physical age in with the calendar. She was going to have to go through puberty again. Unless of course she could find a way to back to 2003.
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