TITLE: These Broken Pieces (1/1) 
AUTHOR: Rebecca Parker 
EMAIL: NumfarGal@aol.com 
RATING: PG
IMPROV # 31 Bittersweet - crack - candle - ring
SUMMARY: Dawn POV on Season 6 up to "Wrecked" 
SPOILERS: As above, up to "Wrecked" 
FEEDBACK: Yes please! 
DISTRIBUTION: All the usual suspects. All others, please ask first. 
DISCLAIMER: Joss and Mutant Enemy own all. 
DEDICATION: To my Jeneral. Thank you for all you do. 




There's a box underneath my bed that only I know about.  I've kept it there 
for the last few months and, in the beginning, it rarely came out from 
beneath it. 

It was something that I had there in case of emergency; something that I 
didn't think I would ever need again. 

But lately, it's been on my bed more than it's been under it. 

And I feel guilty about it. 

I shouldn't miss the days when she was gone. 

I guess it would help if I knew she didn't miss them herself. 

We all noticed how dark and gloomy she had been since they brought her back, 
although none of us really knew why.  I just thought she was swamped with 
bills, and taking care of me, and readjusting to life after she'd lost it. 

We didn't know- the details. Mom always said, "God is in the details." Well, 
the details were that Buffy was in Heaven, so I guess that makes sense.  Mom 
really did know everything. 

And now that we know, we all just kind of dance around the topic because how 
the heck do you start THAT conversation? "So- tell us about the heaven you 
were ripped out of?" 

I want to act all superior because I didn't have anything to do with the 
spell to bring her back, but I can't.  I know I would have jumped at the 
chance had they given it to me. 

But they never did.  I was just little Dawnie, being watched over by Spike 
and under House Arrest for the 147 days that she was gone. 

But it doesn't matter that I wasn't part of the spell- I can tell that, in 
Buffy's eyes, we all were. All except for Spike, it seems. 

She doesn't know how much it hurts me that she confides in him, spends her 
time with him- when I'm the only family she has left. She's the only real 
family I know. Dad is just- Hank. He's the memory that I hold to be the 
falsest. 

Everything has been so hard lately, and I didn't think it would be. With 
Buffy back, I thought we'd be riding high. Willow and Tara were living with 
us, and Giles was back too. Xander and Anya were doing their whole 
pre-marital bliss thing, and it was all going back to normal. 

For about a second. Maybe two. I'm not sure. I should have clocked it. 

The truth about Buffy came out. Willow and Tara broke up. Tara moved out. 
Giles left.  Willow almost got me killed. And I hardly see Xander and Anya 
anymore now that they're knee deep in wedding plannage. 

And all of the sudden, things are worse than ever. Even worse than when she 
was gone. 

And so the box came out. 

No one knew I had it- I think they would have found it weird and morbid and 
probably would have suggested that I seek professional help if they ever 
found out. 

The night that she came back to us, I watched her die. I watched the only 
Buffy that I had known for 147 days sputter and die. I watched as the 
Buffybot shut down- I didn't think I would see the real one do the same weeks 
later. In her own way, of course. Buffy always did things in her own way. 

They all didn't care about her- she was just pieces of metal and circuitry. 
She was just a painful reminder of what we all had lost. But to me, she was 
something more. I had slept curled up next to her more nights than I would 
like to admit. But it was kind of bittersweet being next to her again- even 
if it wasn't really her. I knew that, of course. But I could just clear my 
mind and forget it for a moment, and she was back. 

And I would pretend that she loved me. I would pretend that she knew how. 

It's kind of funny that I do the same thing now with the real Buffy. 

Well, funny in a very not funny sort of way. 

I took a piece of the bot before I ran off to find the real Buffy. I didn't 
know why I did it- I couldn't have imagined the reasons I would need it 
again. I just took it and ran, not even seeing what part I had grabbed. I 
just slipped it in my pocket and ran for the tower. 

Hours later, after Buffy had settled in and Willow and Tara had gone to 
sleep, I emptied my pockets and saw it. I had taken a piece of her hand- a 
few fingers, one of which still had a silver ring slipped onto it.  I had 
crumpled my nose and decided I was way weird, but I didn't throw it out.  

Robot or not, she was my sister for those 147 days. She had made me 
sandwiches, come to school with me, held me close, and pretended to care. 

She had done all the things I thought Buffy would do for me when she came 
back. But she didn't. 

And I was glad I had kept the pieces. I was glad that I had placed it gently 
in the shoebox and slid it underneath the bed where no one would find it. 

I never thought things would be so bad that I would actually appreciate when 
people worried about me. I used to think it was a big pain in the butt that I 
had to be under constant watch.  Now I think it's cool when someone actually 
remembers that I'm around. 

When she was gone, I couldn't get a moment to myself.  Spike, Giles, Tara, 
Willow- I was under constant surveillance. Spike was the worst, in a really 
cool way.  It was like he didn't want me out of his sight.  He followed me 
like he used to follow Buffy.  The only difference was- I actually wanted him 
there.  I used to think that he only put up with me to get to Buffy, but with 
her gone I saw that it was more than that. He didn't have Buffy to impress 
anymore and still he hung around. He called me "Nibblet" and "Pigeon" and I 
loved it. 

Yeah, I was wrong. I should have known.  

Cause as soon as she was back, he was gone. For me, anyway. I couldn't hold a 
candle to her. 

Spike left. And then Giles left. And then Tara. And the people that were left 
behind were gone in their own ways. Buffy to Spike, Willow to magic. 

I know I still have Tara, but it's like having divorced parents again. I see 
her on the weekends, when its "Special Dawnie time." Of course, I love it. I 
love the attention that she gives me. And I know she loves the attention that 
I give back.  But I hate when it's over. I hate when I have to go back to the 
house, where people don't even come home at night. 

I know things are supposed to be different now. Buffy's swearing off Spike, 
and Willow's swearing off magic. 

But things have changed, and I guess I have too. 

I'm farthest away from the person closest to me, and closest both to a girl 
who's left, and a few pieces of metal tucked away underneath my bed. 

So I miss the days when she was gone, as guilty as I feel for doing so. 

I don't want her dead, but I miss the days when Giles was here, when Willow 
and Tara were happy, when Spike was around, and when I felt loved. When I 
knew that I could sneak into her room at night and lie next to her. 

When I knew that I could trust people. 

I lie in bed most nights with my fingers clutching hers underneath my pillow 
and I try to remember.  I hold them as tight as I can without cracking what's 
left and I try not to hate myself for wanting it back. 


The End.