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Identity Crisis

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Noniherant Heritage". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Story 2 in Series. Now that Dawn has an idea of where she came from, she's going to find this 'Boy-Kryptonian' and hopefully figure out who she is.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Smallville > Dawn-CenteredDenaeFR1311,634192,10213 Dec 0913 Dec 09No
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Smallville.

A/N: For anyone who might have been waiting on this installment, between college classes and going back to re-edit my stories here and on fanfiction.net along with my job, time for writing has basically been non-existent. I hope you enjoy this.

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Identity

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Chapter 1: Curiosity and the Cat

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Dawn stood in her new apartment just down the street from Metropolis University, reveling in the fact that after two months of endless pleading with her sister, Buffy had stayed in Cleveland.

She was still having difficulties with some of the powers, although she finally had the running thing down.

Willow and Faith had gotten more information out of the monk after she left that day and she knew that the boy-Kryptonian that the monk told her about was in Metropolis, although he gave them little more information than that.

Dawn then packed her bags and headed to Metropolis enrolling as a student majoring in... Well, she had marked the undecided box, so her major was undecided. She knew what she wanted to do, but this University didn’t seem to have a major linked to ancient and dead languages or demonology. Go figure.

She’d probably end up goes into Art or Art History here, but she was more interested in finding someone who could give her some kind of answers about the changes she was going through.

She had read multiple articles about the Red-Blue Blur zooming around Metropolis and saving the day from something or another. At least until about a while ago, when the Red-Blue Blur had morphed into ‘The Blur’, seeing as he no longer donned the brighter color scheme.

Research had hit a dead end and Dawn was starting to doubt that she’d ever get to know who the mysterious blood donor was, not that she had any idea how to explain to an apparent stranger that you were his quasi-clone, housing a big green blob of energy that is thousands of years old and can rip a hole between dimensions to bring Hell on Earth, literally. No, that wasn’t too hard to explain, anyone would understand that, right?

Dawn just kept chasing around that stupid cat, one not used for Clem’s poker matches, hoping she wouldn’t be killed by her own curiosity. She kind of figured, if she chased it long enough, she wouldn’t get killed.

Except that it didn’t make sense because the cat’s the one that’s curious, right?

Maybe that logic made more sense when she was explaining it to a certain Slayer, who begrudgingly explained her “cookie” analogy several years ago.

Sometimes she wonders if their group is a little too cut off from the rest of the world, seeing as nothing seemed to make sense when explaining to a non-Scooby.

Once she finished chasing that particular bunny, Dawn got up and moved away from her computer. She had a paper due, but her wandering mind just wouldn’t seem to let her get to it.

Even if it would though, the most annoying power was making her crazy right now. Two floors up, she could hear, clear as if she were in the room, the same type of moaning she tried not to hear when she was in her room next to Buffy’s back when her sister was dating Riley.

She could hear Anya’s voice in her ear. The ex-Vengeance Demon never had truly understood that it wasn’t really okay to talk about it in polite conversation.

Coffee.

Dawn decided that going out for coffee would help her concentrate on writing about the President’s new health care reform, a boring and unimportant paper to her when life includes finding out she is part Slayer, part alien.

The former-energy-ball wanted desperately to meet this Boy-Kryptonian, if only to quit feeling like she didn’t belong, but another part of her was terrified to meet him. This is why she kept the Daily Planet article with her, with the writer who had contacted The Red-Blue Blur. She could always talk to the lady, Lois Lane, but she would be exposing herself to that little nagging voice in the back of her head that said he wouldn’t want her. Then there was the voice, sounding suspiciously like a twisted combination of her sister and Giles, telling her that he may be dangerous.

It wasn’t Tuesday, but since they left Sunnydale, the Tuesday rule just hadn’t help up as well.

Sometimes, she missed the predictability of living on top of the Mouth of Hell. Tuesdays were for kidnappings, vamp uprisings, and mini-apocalypses and the Mouth open up to swallow them whole around April or May.

Stupid, unpredictable, normal world with its stupid unpredictability.

Dawn stepped up to order her cappuccino, when she heard the shrill yell nearby. Years of living on the Hellmouth spurred her into action as she sped off as naturally as if she had been doing it all her life.

The man stood steps away from the woman and Dawn was struck by the normality of it, just a simple mugging. People talked about how dangerous Metropolis was, but all Dawn could think was that most people here never had to worry about the true dangers of the world. It would be a while before she realized the truth of the dangers of the town.

Instead of letting herself be known with some witty quip, like she had learned from Buffy, Dawn simply took the gun from him and sped the girl away, leaving before anyone saw her.

At least that was what she thought until she felt a set of eyes following her around the coffee shop as she went back to get her drink. She tried not to be obvious that she knew, but being the kid-sister to the Slayer had taught her a trick or two over the years.

She could hear the rustling behind her, someone trying to be inconspicuous and failing dismally. Dawn turned around, grasping her cup tightly and pointedly ignoring the eyes that were curiously staring.

The brunette sat down at a small table, pulling out her lap-top and going back to the paper on national health reform. It wasn’t translating demon tomes from ancient Sumerian, but it was necessary to pass the class.

Dawn knew the second the person began moving across the room, and looked up at the sound of someone pulling out a chair across the table.

“Hi,” Dawn answered.

“Hello,” the woman began, “I’m Chloe.”

“Dawn. Any reason you’ve been staring at me since I walked in? Or followed me in here for that matter?”

“I saw you.”

Dawn’s mouth quirked upward, and for a second she thought about saying something Faith had told her once, but settled on, “I noticed.”

She bent over the table, whispering, “I saw you save that woman from the mugger.”

Dawn’s eyes didn’t waver, trying to be as confident as possible. “What woman? Save someone? I can guarantee you, whatever you saw it wasn’t me.”

The blonde stood, and held out her hand. “Come, I want to show you something.”

“Right, walk off into nowhere with a perfect stranger. Do I look that naive? Really? Is it like Buffy and Mom hair? Do I just have ‘kidnap me now’ taped to my back, like Jonathan and his ‘kick me’ signs from high school?”

“Whoa, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. It’s just something you can’t really talk about in broad daylight like now.”

Dawn fought back the urge to run screaming, but she knew better than to trust someone to keep a secret.

Dawn really prayed this wasn’t another demon thing, like it always seemed to be.

Then she thought, why not? It’s not like this Chloe girl could hurt her physically? She was invulnerable now, as proven several weeks ago when she survived that bank robbery on Front Street. She had been shot, but there never was a single scratch on her from it.

Still, she knew better than to get to cocky, a lesson learned from when Angel became Angelus again. Physical pain hurts, but emotional and mental pain stays with you. Giles still had nightmares about finding Ms. Calendar in his bed, dead.

Dawn weighed her options, and soon opted to follow the girl, gathering her computer and coffee and following Chloe.

They did the small-talk thing in the cab until they got to a really tall building. Dawn followed Chloe up, feeling slightly more comfortable that she could trust her own instincts.

At least, she did until she saw what was in the room where Chloe took her. It was stocked full of enough computer equipment that Willow would be drooling. Then, in the left corner of the room, there were reminders of a place she hated more than life itself, a hospital bed with IV drips. Buffy wasn’t the only Scooby, let alone a Summers woman, who highly dislike hospitals and doctors. Her dislike of them, though, had little to do with their cousin who died or a visit to the loony bin. No, hers had more to do with their mom and the crazies who knew more about her than she ever did.

Stupid Ben and Glory.

Her eyes darted across the room nervously, “Let me guess, I’m the cat in this picture.”

Chloe changed her attention from her drawer to the college student she barely knew. Barely registering that she’d pulled
out a knife. She looked confusedly at the girl, asking, “What?”

Dawn’s gaze fixed on the knife, “You know. You, the curiosity. Me, the cat.”

With that, she pointed to the knife, “…and that would be the killing part.”

Chloe followed her pointed finger down to the knife, and realized what this had to look like to the girl. Most Meteor Freaks were terrified of being caught, right?

She began to speak and explain, but before she looked up, Chloe felt the familiar wind that usually came with the arrival or departure of her best friend, Clark Kent.

Dawn was gone.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Identity Crisis" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 13 Dec 09.

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