Copyright- the poem is mine. Btvs is property of FOX, J.W., M.E.
setting/summary- Buffy wrote this before leaving to save dawn from Glory.
spoilers for season 5 up to the gift. A poem for Dawn.
Buffy turned from Spike, a sad smile on his face and a promise
still lingering on his lips. She glided up the stairs slowly, another plan
already forming in her mind. She ended up in her room at her desk, pen in
hand and sliding smoothly over a slip of paper labeled "Dearest Dawnie,".
Finished, and content with her work, she signed her named and folded the
paper in half, laying it carefully on the pillow of her bed. She knew what
was going to happen tonight , what she had to do. And if she was right,
then Dawn would find the paper soon enough. If she was wrong, well she'd be
home soon enough to throw it away.
With a tired sigh, she shrugged on her jacket and , taking one
last glance at her room, slowly shut the door and went to face the world.
Or, the end of it.
Dawn limped up the stairs, holding on the banister to steady her
*She had held this banister, just a little while ago.* She thought numbly.
Her bare feet were sticky with blood and gravel, and she slipped
a few times on the way up, latching onto the railing to save herself from
plumetting to the base of the steps. The way the backwards motion swept her
hair off her shoulders and made her head spin reminded her of the recent
tower incident, and she struggled to continue up the steps.
When she got to the top, she swung open the nearest door and was
faced with an all too familar scent. Her. Tears stung her eyes and poured
down her cheeks as she walked slowly into the room. Every trinket, poster,
and picture set off technicolor memories in her mind. The beach, the house
they had grown up in, the life they shared together for as long as Dawn
could remember. The emotions were overwhelming as it finally hit her. Buffy
was dead. Hand poised over her mouth to capture a sob, she sat into the
She had been there, watching helplessly as her sister did her
final hero's act. She had stared, from the base of the tower, at Buffy's
broken body, dust still in the air from the impact. She thought she knew,
in that moment, that in a minute, Buffy would sit up and look over at her
friend's with a witty grin and equally witty quip. But when the dust
settled, she was still gone.
Shock fading and being replaced by grief, another sea of tears
erupted from behind her eyes and she fell sideways onto the pillow at the
head of the bed. And onto a piece of carefully folded paper with her name
on it. Whimpering , she read the carefully penned words, and grief was
replaced by pain as a huge hole was gouged into her chest, and the room
around her seemed to crumble.
I'll hold you,
I love you so.
I'll kiss you,
but I have to go.
Somethings you can't fight.
I could tuck you in tonight.
A/N- Ok, this all started out as just the poem (originally title 'Little
Sister') that I had put on an image I had created as a, sort of tribute to
Buffy and Dawn post 'The Gift'. But then I thought I would share it with
you guys, and figured I'd put two paragraphs with the poem in between. But
then my brain started using compound sentences and big words, and lo and
behold, a ficlet erupts. I guess this could go after the prologue of my
story "When The Dust Settled" but before chapter one. It also explains the
title to previously stated story in a way I didn't get to in the story
So, in conclusion, this story is already very close to my heart, and I
would love to know what you guys think :)