Title: In Memory
Summary: Supernatural xover! They knew it should’ve been them.
Timeline: Post-season 5 in Buffy, Post-season 2 in Supernatural
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Buffy and everything related do not belong to me.
It had been a year since the world fell apart. Well, her world. Not the actual world. Buffy had made sure of that. Died for it even.
It should’ve been Dawn.
That was the only reason she didn’t jump right after her, didn’t catch what was left of the energy cloud on her way down. If she jumped, she would’ve died and Buffy would’ve died with her and that death – Buffy’s death – would’ve been for nothing.
She wouldn’t – couldn’t – let that be happen.
So, instead, she walked down the stairs and looked upon her sister’s broken body. She breathed in and breathed out even though it hurt to breath as much as it hurt to move and to think and to just survive.
She had to do it, though. For Buffy.
And she had to make her life worth something. For Buffy.
Because the world lost something great that night. It lost Buffy and it got stuck with just Dawn.
So, she packed up her bags. She grabbed some weapons and stole some books. She crept out the window the night Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, and Spike were all gone; they were out fighting the good fight that they wouldn’t let her fight. She left on foot and then on a bus and then on a train until her money ran out and she was left with her thumb up at the side of the highway.
A long cut ran across her right cheek, the red line turned brown by the dust she’d been kicking up for the past hour. Her clothes were stained with red spots she couldn’t always scrub away in gas station sinks.
She was proud, though.
The cut came from a knife tossed at her by a ghost. The red spots came from a bloodthirsty werewolf, a sloth demon, and a good number of vampires; all notches on Dawn Summer’s nonexistent belt.
She moved forward a little until one foot was on the road and her arm was extended as far was it would go.
The first car passed her up; it even sped up a little until it was a good distance away. The second, however, slowed to a stop.
She ran up to the window of the black car and peeked in, close enough to talk and to see but far enough to avoid any grabbing hands. She knew the safety drill. It was a good thing too. She saw the thing hanging around his neck at first glance. She didn’t recognize but she recognized unusual trinkets when she saw them.
“Do you need a ride?” the guy asked after a few seconds of silence.
Dawn weighed her chances. She had a lot to learn about the devil worshippers and demon summoners and she knew it. The guy was too big for her slight frame to make much of a difference if he tried to cut her open or anything.
‘Damn it.’ “What’s that?” she asked, bluntly.
He followed her eyes. His hand came up, curling protectively around the amulet. “It’s a necklace.”
“It’s ugly,” she said, testing the waters.
“It was my brothers,” he snaps and she sees it; it’s a brief flash of pain and guilt and ‘it should’ve been me’ that she sees whenever she can’t avoid a mirror.
Before he could step on the gas and leave her choking on even more dust, she swung the door open and sat. Her bag fit in the space by her feet. The door squeaked as she closed it.
“I’ll go however far you can take me in whatever direction. I don’t really care.”
He stared at her. His hand was still curled around the amulet. His eyes were icy. There was a good chance he would kick her out the passenger side door.
So, she breathed in and out and gave him the only thing she knew would matter:
“I had a sister.”
She knew he saw the look; it was the flash of pain and guilt and ‘it should’ve been me’.
He turned away and pressed down on the gas until they were flying down the highway.