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Dawn drabbles
Here are four Dawn drabbles, all Dawnverse-related. One is new, the others are old LJ reposts.
Not Right
Buffy’s getting special sandwiches and stuff, just because she’s had the stupid flu. And Dawn’s stuck eating vegetables – it’s so unfair.
She slams her bedroom door and writes scathing diary entries about how much Buffy sucks, and how she doesn’t even like peanut-butter and jelly anyway, and how much better it would be if she was an only child.
A few weeks later, she sits huddled on the staircase, as Mom tells Buffy not to bother coming back home again, ever. Dawn hugs her knees and whispers, “I didn’t mean it, Mom, not really,” but by then it’s too late.
Turning Ten
Three people rode a carousel for a whole hour.
(Or maybe two people went out for icecream sundaes... It was hard to tell.)
"Necessary frivolity" she called it.
Her daughter (or maybe daughters) had had a tough year, what with divorce, expulsion, and a new town.
They needed fun - and the birthday party was the perfect opportunity.
(And it wasn't a special occasion - just a normal Wednesday - but they decided, on a whim, to buy fancy icecream and celebrate the fact that it was a Wednesday.)
The sundaes were delicious, and wonderfully extravagant.
(And the carousel went round and round.)
I’m dreaming of…
The Potentials are complaining.
“It’s way too hot for Christmas.”
“Definitely.”
“Hey Dawn, don’t you guys ever have snow?”
Yes, you think. Well, no. Not really. Not you.
You made a snowman once, sculpted it, but actually you didn’t.
You weren’t there to wrap Buffy’s scarf around its neck.
Faith must have made it by herself. If she ever made it at all.
Maybe the snowman only ever existed in your memory… sort of like you.
You never had a snowball fight. You never slipped into slush by the fence. You never saw snow.
“Yes,” you say. “We did, once.”
Not Really Here
“Mark has the cutest smile. He told me that tomorrow he-”
I didn’t write that.
“-and Mom said she could go, because slaying was more important, and I said that she was probably just using-”
I didn’t say that.
“I finally got the CD! Went out yesterday and-”
I didn’t buy that.
“-and it came right over to us. Dad said we shouldn’t feed it, but I-”
I didn’t do that.
Dawn rips the book apart, and chokes back a sob. Then she runs, and leaves the fake room full of fake childhood behind her.
And the pages slowly burn.
Not Right
Buffy’s getting special sandwiches and stuff, just because she’s had the stupid flu. And Dawn’s stuck eating vegetables – it’s so unfair.
She slams her bedroom door and writes scathing diary entries about how much Buffy sucks, and how she doesn’t even like peanut-butter and jelly anyway, and how much better it would be if she was an only child.
A few weeks later, she sits huddled on the staircase, as Mom tells Buffy not to bother coming back home again, ever. Dawn hugs her knees and whispers, “I didn’t mean it, Mom, not really,” but by then it’s too late.
Turning Ten
Three people rode a carousel for a whole hour.
(Or maybe two people went out for icecream sundaes... It was hard to tell.)
"Necessary frivolity" she called it.
Her daughter (or maybe daughters) had had a tough year, what with divorce, expulsion, and a new town.
They needed fun - and the birthday party was the perfect opportunity.
(And it wasn't a special occasion - just a normal Wednesday - but they decided, on a whim, to buy fancy icecream and celebrate the fact that it was a Wednesday.)
The sundaes were delicious, and wonderfully extravagant.
(And the carousel went round and round.)
I’m dreaming of…
The Potentials are complaining.
“It’s way too hot for Christmas.”
“Definitely.”
“Hey Dawn, don’t you guys ever have snow?”
Yes, you think. Well, no. Not really. Not you.
You made a snowman once, sculpted it, but actually you didn’t.
You weren’t there to wrap Buffy’s scarf around its neck.
Faith must have made it by herself. If she ever made it at all.
Maybe the snowman only ever existed in your memory… sort of like you.
You never had a snowball fight. You never slipped into slush by the fence. You never saw snow.
“Yes,” you say. “We did, once.”
Not Really Here
“Mark has the cutest smile. He told me that tomorrow he-”
I didn’t write that.
“-and Mom said she could go, because slaying was more important, and I said that she was probably just using-”
I didn’t say that.
“I finally got the CD! Went out yesterday and-”
I didn’t buy that.
“-and it came right over to us. Dad said we shouldn’t feed it, but I-”
I didn’t do that.
Dawn rips the book apart, and chokes back a sob. Then she runs, and leaves the fake room full of fake childhood behind her.
And the pages slowly burn.
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Gabrielle
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Glad you liked them!
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I'm glad you liked these!
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And bugger! I don't have my 'I am Key' icon here - you'll just have to imagine it!
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(If you're reading too much into it, then I am too...)
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