Supernatural belongs to Kripke.
BtVS belongs to Whedon.
A/N: My head is full of dark and dreary thoughts.
Buffy sits on the back porch of the house, the rocking chair swinging her weight to and fro.
The air is getting chilly, the ritual of the day ending used to be one of Dawn’s favorites- the smell of the sun setting, crickets beginning to chirp, lights going on in houses. She used to love watching the sunset, drinking hot chocolate outside with a good book.
Buffy is bundled into a worn out caftan, her small frame dwarfed by the knit and she still feels cold. It feels like she’ll never be warm again.
She’s lost weight since the funeral, her body looks almost skeletal and the only thing that really stands out anymore on her are her eyes. Bright green and glowing with a feverish intensity, they are the eyes of a zealot. Of a fanatic. Of a killer.
“Are you coming in?” Xander’s voice is there, broken and hollow just like everyone else’s.
“How long?” she avoids his initial question and instead asks him about their case.
“Tomorrow morning. They’ll cross the border at eight a.m., Willow’s made sure,” he sounds dead.
A little voice, the cracked and insane one, the one that keeps her company at night- it giggles at her observation. Dead like Dawnie
“I want to be there by six,” she tells him. There is a silence and then he leaves.
What can he say?
It’s been two months since Dawn’s death. Her murder at the hands of humans.
Buffy’s run through the morning when she found out about her baby sister getting killed so many times before, it feels like the scene is forever embedded behind her closed lids.
If she closes her eyes she’ll see.
Willow running in screaming about Dawn’s life force getting extinguished.
Them teleporting to Boston, finding her sister’s body with two shotgun blasts. One to the head, one to the chest. One to the chest, one to the head. That’s when you know, they’re really dead.
Recreating the scene of Dawn’s murder. Seeing her sister kneeling on the floor, hands shaking as she tries to do a protection spell in a classmate’s home.
The classmate that was supposed to become a warlock’s next victim had Dawn not stepped in with the protection runes.
Two guys busting through the door, guns and murderous expressions trained on twenty one year old Dawnie whose hands are glowing green as she chants.
Bam. Shot to the chest.
Dawn dropping on her knees in shock as she sees the thick blood drip onto her hands.
Her eyes, wide and shocked as she looks at her murderers. The question clear to all, ‘Why?’
The shorter one of the men snarling “you shouldn’t have gone after those kids you devil worshipping whore.”
Dawn, coughing up her life’s fluids, wheezing harsh in the room.
Bam. Shot to the head.
And her sister’s body slumping to her side, blue gaze unseeing.
Buffy sees all this. Willow’s recreated the scene for her. So many times, so many angles.
They had an emergency meeting about how to deal with the situation. Hunters and them have never crossed paths before. Frankly, it’s the first time Buffy hears about them.
They’re human, they’ve apparently taken it on themselves to hunt anything supernatural.
She is outvoted by the Board, nobody will support a slayer’s execution of humans.
There is no physical evidence to tie the men to the scene of Dawn’s murder, nothing to pass on to the authorities.
Buffy quits the Council she’s rebuilt from the ground that day. So do Xander and Willow. They can’t support anyone who would turn their back on one of their own.
And from that moment on, the three of them spend all their time drafting spells to bring Dawn’s murderers to where they want them.
Specifically, the border of South Dakota. Tomorrow morning, Sam and Dean Winchester will cross the border.
They will be coming in for a job. What they expect to be a vengeful spirit.
And they *will* find one.
Buffy. Wasted away by the hate, the terrifying rage that’s burned away at everything but the pain- she will take her revenge.
Willow’s created all the spells to bring them together, but she won’t be there. She can’t take another life.
She wants to. God knows she does. It’s Dawn who’s been *deliberately* murdered, little Dawnie who Willow watched grow up.
But the Devon Coven have already bound her magic against murder. If she kills another human being, she will die by means of having her magic ripped from her.
Buffy and Xander tell her not to come. There is no point of Willow sacrificing herself for scum like these hunters.
Willow will mourn. She will rage and she will hurt. But she will heal. Slowly but surely she will be better. She’s a survivor. Time and again, she’s come back from the ashes like a mythical phoenix.
Xander’s coming with Buffy. Her other best friend. Her brother, her family. He knows that she doesn't expect to come back from this.
Dawn has been her reason for living ever since Willow's spell.
He refuses to let her leave alone. Besides, for what they have in mind- two people really are best.
Tomorrow morning at eight- Buffy and Xander will extract their revenge for their little sister’s death.
Tomorrow morning at eight- they will kill the Winchesters. Slowly and painfully, with goblin made daggers they will cut the life out of them until their eyes stare with nothing.
Just. Like. Dawn’s.