Disclaimer: I don't own either BtVS or Stargate. I wish I did but hey, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts we'd all be happy people. And very rich ones at that. Enjoy!
WARNING: Mentions of Rape and Sexual Assault. Stop reading if you dont wish to know.
She felt numb. Cold. Her eyes wouldn’t open but she could sense everything around her. She was laying on hardness… maybe concrete or asphalt. It was wet. Something was falling on her face and hands. Cold too. It smelled horrible. Like food that’s been sitting for too long without someone coming to take it away. Silence around her but further away, sounds. People walking and sounds of people at a restaurant fade in and out. She couldn’t remember how she got here. This forced her eyes open.
An alley. A dumpster was not two feet to her left that was overfilling with rotting food. Snow was falling. It had been a while since she’d seen snow. Not since the time the First tried to kill Angel. But this was different. Then it hadn’t been so cold as it is now, nor had the snow been this deep in the drifts around her. The cold forced her to sit up.
Colors swam in front of her and she began to black out but by sheer force of will she didn’t. A hand came up to touch her head and came away bloody. Fresh blood. A deep ingrained lesson forced her to stagger to her feet and get the hell out of dodge before some vamp came to take advantage. She went for the restaurant figuring that she could try to call Buffy or one of the Scoobies to come get her.
She had caught someone’s attention. A shock of white blonde hair had her muttering, “Buffy.” Her eyes drifted closed but she forced them open once more. The hair was coming towards her but she couldn’t recognize who it was. She leaned heavily against the entry of the alley way and waited for the hair to come to her. Her eyes drifted closed again.
“Dawn!” Whose voice is that? That’s not Buffy. “Dawn, what happened?” Dawn forced her eyes open again. Slight, almost feline features hovered in front of her. The hair was short. Much shorter than Buffy had ever had hers. Natural too. Buffy was always dying her hair lighter than it really was, after all, she had an image to convey.
“Who’re you? What happn’d to Glory?” she slurred out, her mind not catching up to her mouth. “Didja kill her?” She still couldn’t get much more energy than to just stay standing and soon felt herself tipping forwards only to be caught by the hair person. She eased Dawn down to the ground and shouted to someone behind her. Dawn couldn’t make out what she said only that is sounded like an order more than anything else. Eyes forced open once more she examined the person.
Green fatigues over combat boots with a black shirt. Dog tags hung down under the shirt but hyper observant Dawn could see the bump they made. Fear of the Initiative surged forward and she shoved the woman away from her as hard as she could and got up to run. Unfortunately her strongest now had only sent the woman back a few feet and she herself couldn’t stand without falling back down so the best she could do was a hunched over type of crawl that sent sharp spikes of pain up in her abdomen and a pulse of dull pain through her head. She made it about ten feet before collapsing onto her stomach.
She couldn’t move at all now. The woman got to her and rolled her over and did all she could to keep Dawn conscious but the overwhelming blackness won out.