Title: Together Before The Stars
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Spike+/Dawn, past Spike/Buffy, past Xander/Dawn
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Two of Buffy's most beloved companions meet up again years later to reminisce, grieve, and perhaps start anew.
Word Count: 1,659
Written For: Fan FlashWorks 412: Bridge, Nekid Spike Mini Nekid Geust July 2023: Dawn and Harlot's Choice: Stars, and 100 Ships 55. Cloud
Warnings: Future Fic, Character Deaths, Slight AU
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.







Her fingers curling around the railing, she leaned out into the night air. She had been alone for so long now. It had taken her much too long to come, but she had at last succeeded in avenging her sister's death and killing her killer before they could escape for good. It almost made no sense to come now -- except that she had promised. She had promised, and he had promised as well, decades ago that, when the inevitable time finally came, they would meet here.

It was a fitting place. Perhaps it said something about their lives, something ironic and sad, that this meeting would be what they first immediately thought of the first time they'd seen this bridge. It had been one of the rare times that he'd been out with her in the daylight, driving them toward another fight and another mission, with all their windows blackened out. She still didn't understand how he drove so well without being able to see, but he had. He'd insisted on them going then too, as usual putting everybody else above himself.

She wondered where he was now, and rather life had been good or cruel to him. When he'd finally given up on earning Buffy's love, he had followed his destiny elsewhere. For a time, she'd been able to keep up with him, and then life had happened to her as well. Her own story had progressed with kids and a husband, a husband who was buried beside where her sister's remains now laid.

Dawn sighed and twined her fingers more tightly around the rail. It seemed strange to be here in California now, without either of them, without any family to speak of. Oh, she still had the kids of course, but they had their own lives and their own destinies to fulfill. All that was so far away too; Britain felt almost as though it was another world. She could not have felt more out of place on this bridge if she had come down from the stars themselves.

She looked up at the stars then, thinking wistfully back. There wasn't a cloud in the sky on that night, and she seemed to be able to see every star visible for miles around. Gazing up at the vast blanket of stars, she couldn't help remembering that she herself had been made of cosmic energy in the beginning. Would it not make sense, then, for her to return to the stars? Would it not make sense to search for her own destiny amongst them?

Or maybe this was her destiny? Maybe this was all life had to offer her -- a long history of fighting the bad guys and raising her children up to continue the journey in their own ways? She'd always heard of parents who lived on through their kids' accomplishments. She didn't want to be one of those beasts, but she also did not yet want to give up life. She still had more to give to the world. She had just killed a Demon Lord, for Christ's sake! There had to be more she could give, more she could do. There had to be more to life itself. Surely it could not be too late? Surely it could not be --

She turned suddenly, feeling his approach. An old rush of mixed emotions swept through her as he stepped into the moonlight. He was dressed all in black as usual. Her heart warmed to see he'd been taking care of himself, even having painted his lips and fingernails. Perhaps it was a good thing that he had never managed to work things out with her sister, but then, Buffy had never worked out anything with anyone romantically speaking. It was a wonder she'd even allowed Dawn to stay in her life, and even that had had its limits. She hadn't wanted to risk the kids, or so she'd always said.

But the kids were grown now, each with jobs and families of their own choosing. Xander was gone, having died young, going down, like the hero he'd always been, in battle. Buffy had not approved of their continuing to slay, but even though they'd kept it to their own neighborhood in London, when you were the sister and former best friend to the Slayer who had broken every record, baddies were bound to come calling. One of them had thought they'd make a name for themselves by killing her husband, but he'd not had long to revel in that glory for she'd slain him right after he'd killed Xander -- and Xander had died in her arms, that one, good eye of his that had seen so much closing for the final time while still trying to reassure her it would all be okay.

It had not been okay, of course. It had not been okay for a very long time, but she had found renewed life. She'd had to in order to keep their children going, in order to make sure their children were safe, healthy, and most of all, alive. She'd done it for their kids, just as, in truth, she'd married him, in part, to take care of him. Xander was a hero, just as Spike was.

Too many people had never seen it, but she knew. She'd always known, or at least it felt as though she'd always known. She reminded herself again that she had come from the stars, and so, no matter how it felt otherwise, she had not always known the people she loved. She had not always known that Xander and Spike had been heroes -- but perhaps she had looked down at them from above? She smiled through her tears, and whipped back around as a glimmer passed through the corner of her brown eyes.

"Some people would say that's her soul going to rest." The whisper came from behind her. She'd not even heard him move, but she whipped around again, this time to hug him. She threw her arms around him, noting that he'd lost weight again; buried her face in the familiar folds of his leather jacket; and inhaled that scent of old leather and the musky twang that had always been Spike. For a bloke who valued the looks of his nail and hair, he'd never quite been able to shake the smells of death and decay from himself, but none of that bothered her. In fact, everything she smelled, with her face in his jacket, was so familiar, so welcoming, so... reassuring.

She suddenly no longer felt like crying. But she still hurt. And she needed someone to know. The truth came spilling out of her before she could stop herself. "She's been gone too long." Her head shook. A tremor passed through her small body. Without speaking a word, he enveloped her in his strong embrace that was as protective and reassuring as it had been that entire Summer they'd spent running to protect her because of the first time Buffy had died, the first time she's sacrificed herself so that Dawn could stay, so that she could become and remain more than she was ever meant to be.

"I've been alone for so long." Those last six words broke free from her like the whimper of a wounded animal. But they were truth, she recognized now. She'd been alone in a sea of kids when Xander had been taken from her, and now with the additional loss of her sister -- She both wanted to let the tears pour and no longer had tears to cry. There was a warmth settling instead inside of the pit of her stomach, her heart, her very being. If she had been made of stars, then the folds of Spike's leather jacket were the black velvet of the night sky.

His pale hands softly stroked her long, graying hair. "You're not alone anymore, Nibblet," he said, chastely kissing her forehead. He stood for a while, just holding her while she didn't cry and stroking her hair, until he noticed there were more glowing lights falling from the late night sky. "Hey, lookit. Looks like we got ourselves a shower."

"It's not her," she said, turning in his arms to survey the meteor shower. "But maybe they're saying goodbye."

"Celebrating a hero." His voice was choked, and she remembered again those rare times she'd been able to get him to open up before and speak of her sister while she'd been gone. It was clear Spike had never stopped loving her. It was equally clear, from his arms around her, that he'd never stopped loving her either, and Dawn knew she'd never stopped loving him and never would. He had been her first hero; he would be her last.

Together, without speaking another word, they moved to the railing. Beneath them, in the form of a huge, gaping hole in the earth, lay the past, the remnants of Sunnydale where it had all begun. Except that wasn't really true, she reminded herself yet again. She had come from the stars. Perhaps her sister was up there somewhere, looking down upon them, and maybe, just maybe, she was happy now. Maybe she was smiling at them both, glad they had found each other again after all that had happened. Would Xander smile, she thought, to see that she was no longer alone, or would he hate Spike even more for having his wife?

She felt Spike's fingers wrap around hers, and though they were cold to the touch, they warmed her. She squeezed his hand, glancing down at the physical sign of their joined hands, proof that she was no longer alone and would never have to be so again. "Thank you for coming," she found herself whispering again.

"Of course, Nibblet. I wouldn't miss it for the world." He kissed the top of her head, and then simply held her as they stood together, watching the stars.




The End