Keep These MomentsAuthor:
Buffy Summers/Dean WinchesterGenre:
Somehow us Summers’ women managed to pull together to put up the tree, fully decorated with Popsicle shaped reindeers and cotton balls that made Santa’s beard.Challenge:
Promp# 027 Tears. 3/30
Written for 2007 Holiday Challenge at: Shotguns & Stakes
BtVS Season 5 “The Body”.Disclaimer:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon & ME. Supernatural and all related characters are copyright of Eric Kripke & Co.Distribution:
Not without permission from myself.AN:
Joyce Summers died on February 27, 2007, which is the air date for “The Body” and how I knew that they all had one more Christmas together before her passing.
Big thanks to Ava for her beta’ing this piece despite being crazy busy, means a lot hun! xoxo
My cold fingers slowly begin to warm up from holding the novelty ‘ Wild Thing’ mug Dawn bought me last year. It’s filled with Apple Cider, a very Christmas-y sort of drink. Tucking my legs underneath me I snuggle closer into the plush couch.
A large Douglas Fur stands in the bay window, fully decorated. White lights that I managed to get tangled in more than I’d care to admit fill the room with a soft glow. The sparse decorations are what cause tears to well in my eyes. Everything that I had kept after Mom died is gone sunk into the crater that was called Sunnydale. All those handcrafted decorations that Dawn and I had made throughout our childhood are ash. Another reminder of what Sunnydale cost me.
It’s been four years since that last Christmas with Mom. She’d been slowly recovering from her treatment and I was still heart-broken over Riley. Somehow us Summers’ women managed to pull together to put up the tree, fully decorated with Popsicle shaped reindeers and cotton balls that made Santa’s beard. Mom would always place our ornaments at the front of the tree with such pride. Her nimble fingers would untwist the yarn before gently placing them on various limbs and then would take a few steps back to look at the placement. She’d look at that tree like she was creating a piece of art that would sell for millions.
I feel the couch cushion next to mine sink and naturally lean towards the firm male body. Dean’s not good at offering up sympathetic words in these situations but rather does that whole strong and silent thing. His arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me closer and I burrow my face into his neck. Tears spill down my cheeks soaking his black shirt.
“Do you have to go right now?” The sound of my own voice sounds foreign to me, so detached and small.
“Nah, Sammy can wait a few hours.”~fin~
Completed: November 6, 2007