Chapter 1 : Aberrations
Disclaimer : I own nothing. Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to the esteemed Joss Whedon and whoever else, and the Twilight franchise belongs to Stephenie Meyers and her peeps.
I’m not real. More accurately, I’m not certain I’m real.
My name is Dawn Summers and I’m the Key.
The key to what, you may ask? The Key to all the dimensions. I’m a concept, given essence, then a conscience by pure magic, born at the dawn of time. Even monks have a sense of irony. Born with the universe – with all the universes. The ones you can fathom, heavens and hells and everything in between; and others.
Others which are so very different, so alien, to what the human, or even supernatural, mind can imagine, let alone comprehend, that I now know why insane people see me for what I am.
The Key knows no notion of time, or space. Time goes forward, time goes backwards, and space is ever-changing. It is in itself, a fourth dimension.
I am a concept made tangible, an aberration.
But I am an aberration that lives, breathes, feels love and hatred, pain and joy, sorrow and hope. Yet, I don’t know why my sister, the sister that destiny gave me, through the hands of benevolent monks, chose to die for me. Regardless, saving an idea is what makes heroes, and as such, I choose to regard my sister’s death, as absurd as it may seem, as a Persian error in the tapestry of time. An error, made on purpose on the threads of a tapestry, because only the gods know true, absolute perfection.
As sad as it may be, her gift to me is beyond beautiful, because it is so tragically human.
I appreciate it to its full extent, because my sister’s sacrifice was too late. Drops of blood and stars alignment awoke the Key that laid dormant in me. Everything is getting clearer, yet more confusing, as the both foreign and familiar consciousness of the Key, and my human mind mold into each other, complete each other.
It’s truly a beautiful thing, a masterpiece even, how a new understanding of the world sparks into my mind, along with a newfound serenity, and still an enthusiasm for life, something very fresh, brought forth from the youth of my humanity.
I now know that the Key had never been given body before. We’re new to each other. But there is no struggle for dominance, no violence in me. Everything in the universe unfolds as it should, and I, like everyone and everything, am a child of the universe.
The change is not physical. It may be one day, as my body ages and adapts to contend the Key still. But I feel different, as it could be expected. After all, an old-as-dirt, near-godly, supernatural consciousness is intertwining with my mind.
Buffy’s friends still don’t know. I’ve been meditating all day, trying to adjust to the changes, and I can hear them downstairs. They’ve been grieving and crying, a shroud of pain and loss surrounding them, so thickly I could almost touch it. It’s unbearable.
In spite of everything that has happened, I’m human, and my sister’s death is sharp and smothering all at once. I miss her, and I will always miss her. Just like I will always miss my mother. The bonds that were forged by destiny and magic, strengthened by the love we gave each other, even in the darkest of times, were probably the truest, most real bonds there could be between a mother and her child, between sisters.
So maybe, after all, I am real.
I gathered all my bravery and crept downstairs. Willow, Xander, Tara, Giles, Anya and Spike are still mourning. Even Spike, dear old Spike, who is as much an aberration as I am; to think, a soulless vampire, a psychopathic, sadistic demon capable of love! It’s beautiful, because it is absurd, a wonder.
They don’t see me yet, but I can hear them. They don’t know what to do with me. They can’t take care of me : they can’t raise a teenager, while they are devastated by the loss of their best friend, and, on a more practical front, not one of them have the legal or financial capacity to do so.
But I have a solution for that. So I step forward, into the room, and say : “Mom knew there was a chance that Buffy might not make it. She knew Buffy was the Slayer. I’m going to live with my uncle Charlie.”
Immediately, cries of protest, of concern for my safety rise. I wait for a lull in the chaos and say : “This is not your decision to make. The law is the law, things are what they are.”
There are more shouts, more incomprehension, with an edge of desperation in their voices.
Except from Spike ; there’s only silence from Spike. He looks at me, a searching air in his eyes, something quite peaceful that can only come from hundreds of years of existence. Then he says: “Your uncle Charlie’s a copper, right luv?” I nod. He turns to the others. “The bit’s right. There’s nothing we can do ‘bout it. She’ll be safe, ’s the least we can do.”
The room is quiet now. We stare at each other, and in that moment, something passes between us – understanding. He knows ; though he doesn’t understand the full extent of what unfolded in me. But he feels it. He sees.
It seems we aberrations understand each other.
Tell me what you think, if you think I should continue this story, or just stop right now 'cause it's pure and utter crap.
Oh, and I need a beta, because this is my first fanfiction, and English is not my first language.
I really want your opinion guys!