all_inclusive | Like shadows in the faded light, we're invisible.

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Like shadows in the faded light, we're invisible.

As if not being home wasn't bad enough, Dawn has been getting sicker and sicker by the day. She'd barely even been out of bed in a week. This morning she had rolled out of bed feeling just a little bit better after having slept for twenty-four hours straight. She had shuffled her way through a shower that only added to her feeling better. Wearing a white tank top with a purple glittered star on it and some purple pajama pants, she combed through the tangles in her hair and picked up a blow dryer to start working the heat through her hair. Today would be a straight hair sort of day, no curls because she didn't have the energy for it. As her hair dried, the steam slowly filtered away from the mirror, giving her a better image of herself in the reflection.

She dropped the blow dryer. Blinked. Looked again. Blinked again. Squinted her eyes. How could she see things behind her? Through herself? She looked behind her, just to check and make sure that she was seeing what was behind her through herself. Then she looked back to the mirror. She lifted her hand, seeing the bathroom counter through it. Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her chest. So loud that she swore she could feel it throughout her entire body inside and out.

And this is what had her barreling barefoot through the hotel hallways looking for Buffy or Angel or Peter or yes, even Faith who had no idea who she was. The ghostly see-through girl calling out as she ran from one place to another until she couldn't run anymore. "Buffy?" Each time she rounded a corner or hit a new floor or corridor of the hotel she called out. "Buffy!" She might run into people and apologize before she hurried on her way to find her sister. Or she might stop to talk if anyone wanted to.

Eventually, tired and spent, she would end up plopping down on one of the couches in the lobby, a box of kleenex beside her and a book in her lap. The couch could be seen through her and every once in awhile she lifted her hand to look through it at things, trying to gauge whether it was getting better or worse. Her eyes were puffy from crying. Her nose was red from sniffling. She was generally a train wreck of a person right now. But she figured anyone would be if they were slowly disappearing.

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"I don't feel as sick. But sick would be better than disappearing by like... a million and five." Because sick she could deal with. Disappearing meant that something mystical was going on. Mystical. The though leaves her filled with dread. She was the definition of mystical, after all. A magic thing that shouldn't even exist.

Her features crumble and she shakes her head at Peter. "I'm gonna disappear. I won't exist anymore. Peter I won't exist anymore cause I shouldn't even be existing in the first place." If this isn't her worst nightmare, aside from losing Buffy, she doesn't know what is.

Peter glances up and down the hall before pulling her in the direction of his room. He wants a chance to talk to her where they can sit down.

"Shhhh, you're not going to disappear, Dawn."

The room isn't far and he opens the door with a key, nudges it wide and pulls her across the threshold.

"Come on. Let's sit down. You can tell me what's going on."

Dawn's never been in his room before. And if she weren't so distraught she would be awkward and geeky over it. She might get there eventually once she calms down some. As it is, she isn't thinking straight and walks straight in to grab some kleenex from a box and then plops down on the side of the bed near the pillows. She dots at her eyes with the tissue and blows her nose.

"I'm not real." She says, her nose stopped up more from crying than anything. "I'm not real, Peter. I was created. From magic. And there's a whole ginormous amount of drama that comes with it. So you kissed a fake girl and I'm sorry."

While she's not being awkward and geeky about it, he is wishing that he'd cleaned up a little more in here that morning. It's not bad, but things are scattered about, clothes are on the floor and the bed is hastily made up in a manner that's sloppy enough that Aunt Mae would make him do it again were she here.

He waits until she sits down then sits down beside her, bringing the whole box of tissues over for her. He rests his hand at the back of her neck, thumb stroking the nape of her neck in something that he hopes is soothing.

"You sure feel pretty real to me no matter how you were created."

She feels real but look at what you can see through her, Peter. Soon enough his hand will be passing through her so that she's barely there at all, until she literally doesn't exist anymore. It's a realization she's starting to come to. Something was so wrong. And her worst nightmare was coming true.

She shook her head at his comment, but also leaned into the touch at her neck, into the palm of his hand. "I'm disappearing. And I don't think it's a spell. I think it's just... happening. Because it was meant to happen. The world has a way of setting things right, you know?"

Oh he can see through her and that's disturbing. He'll be approaching it from a scientific point of view later, but for the moment, he's more concerned about comforting her. Something is definitely wrong.

"I don't understand, Dawn. You know why this is happening?"

Dawn shakes her head. No she doesn't know why this is happening. "It could be a spell, someone trying to get to my sister through me. Cause she's kind of a super hero. Or it could be that I'm just. I'm not supposed to exist and the world is setting everything back the way it should be."

"Kind of a super hero..." Peter nods a little at that. He doesn't know how her sister is a superhero, but he understands that there's fall out when one is a superhero and sometimes the people you love the most get hurt.

"Why are you not supposed to exist?"

She looks up to Peter, worried about what she's about to say to him. But why would she hold back now? It's clear something isn't right with her, not normal. "Cause I was created less than a handful of years ago by some monks trying to hide a key from an angry Hell Goddess named Glorificus. And they knew my sister was kind of a super hero and would protect said key from said Hell Goddess." Vague and so many holes for questions, but she doesn't want to overload his brain.

Yeah, it's a lot to process, but it takes a lot overload his brain, even if the idea of actual magic is new to him."Okay." He's saying it as a way of catching his breath, a way of processing.

"Okay." He takes a deep breath. "That doesn't mean you're not supposed to exist. It just means that--that you're different than most people and different--different is good, you know? Different is cool."

"Not so cool when you're in a body that can do nothing extra special but your main super power is bringing on a multi-universe apocalypse." Because what else would happen when the key was used and the walls between realities began to fall? It would be the apocalypse to end all apocalypses.

"No. I mean...wow. That's--that's pretty....awful, but cool too." He pushed his glasses up on his nose and rubbed the back of his neck.

"What can I do to help?"

"Cool?" She asks, uncertain what he might mean by that. She was the least cool of all the people she knew in so many ways. Especially in the super power way. "Well I mean... I kinda wish in the land of super powers I had something better that could actually help people instead of... this. Super speed or strength or... hey, flying would be cool too. Sometimes I wish I was fly girl. Then when someone annoyed be I could just be like 'you know what?' Pshewww...." She pauses. "That... was my sound affect for flying people.

"Because--because you're different," he answers, not wanting her to think he's mocking her or anything. Then she's describing how she wanted to fly and be fly girl and making 'flying' noises and he can't help but laugh.

"Flying, huh? That's what you want to do?"

Because he could kind of take her flying.

"Yeah think about it. If you could control the flying it'd be an awesome battle strategy. Swoop in, stake the vampires, swoop back out before you ever get hurt." She rambles. Because she rambles even more when she's nervous. "Oh or... there's the dropping large objects on the vampire's heads... like a big ball of garlic or something. Or a vat of holy water."

Peter listens to her with a half smile. It's good rambling and it helps the whole weirdness/worrisomeness of her disappearing. He leans in and kisses her temple. "Tell you what, stick around, we'll take care of whatever this is and I'll see if I can do something about finding a way for you to do some sort of flying."

She dips her head as he kisses her temple, her eyes closing briefly. "How have I not weirded you out yet?" Because yes she had been vague and not given him the full story just yet. But he was still here. She was talking about staking vampires and he was kissing her and promising things that were so sweet.

"I told you. My weird factor is super high," Peter answers. Plus, he's seen a lot of weird here since arriving. Yeah, he didn't know that Dawn was involved in it, but that's almost comforting. He's not going to be the one to get her killed. She's in danger anyway, so adding more to it doesn't make him feel guilty, or at least it doesn't make him feel too guilty.

"Besides, once this over, I might tell you my own weird." Because he's got it.

"You have weird?" She asks curiously. Weird in her world could mean a lot of things. It could mean bad things. But she knows Peter isn't bad. Is he? She reaches out to wrap her hand around his wrist, fingers feeling for his pulse. "Just... checking."

He smirks at little at the way she feels for his pulse. He reaches up and takes her hand, placing it against his chest so she can feel his heart. "I'll tell you all about it once we get you taken care of, okay?"

"Okay." She nods, growing silent for a bit as he holds her hand to his chest. It's after that lingering silence that she sort of relaxes as much as is possible right now. "I was only created a few years ago. By some monks trying to protect and hide a key that can tear down the walls between realities and bring chaos to everywhere in a mythical and epic kind of way."

Peter ponders that. He'll worry about actual age versus apparent age later. Right now, he's concerned with comforting Dawn and figuring out how to get Dawn back solid.

"Maybe we can find some of these monks, have them do something to make you more solid."

"Buffy's trying... my sister is trying to find a doorway to home." She tells Peter with a nod. "So we can figure this out... with magic maybe." But could they figure it out with magic? They had destroyed...

Oh.

"Oh." she says, her brow furrowing. In killing the seed of magic had Buffy inadvertently killed her too?

Peter is with her until the oh. At that point, his brow furrows. "What? What'd you think of?"

His mind is whirling with ideas to help out with science, but at this point he's not sure..."Would you let me try to take some of your blood? I want to see if there's something going on at a cellular level that I can tamper with, either make it better or worse on the cellular level because even making it worse could give us some answers."

"Magic... we destroyed the seed of magic in my world." And she had just pretty much told him that she had been created with magic, without using those exact words.

Normally she would have said no to giving anyone her blood. But this feels like something they can actively do. And desperate times... So she nods. "Yeah. Yeah you can get all...blood draw-y. Just don't try to do a spell with it cause my blood kind of... does mystical kinds of things."

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oneguyinaunitard - 2014-04-28 02:50 (UTC) - Expand

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