InsaneJournal

Fic: Bodies In Motion (BtVS)
Hey it's my Lynnevitational Fic! Huzzah!

Title: Bodies in Motion
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Dawn/Lots of People, Dawn/Xander
Timeline/Spoilers: Post both series, spoilers for all. Does not include comics canon.
AN: This is a prequal to Collision aka the Connor/Dawn strap-on fic.
AN2: Many thanks to sweptawaybayou for the fabulous beta and to germaine_pet for hosting the Lynnevitational which kicked my ass into writing this.
Summary: After the end, you move towards the future.


Buffy must have learned something from the last time she tried to protect Dawn because this time Dawn didn't wake up in a car -- she woke up in one of the emergency bunkers Giles had shown her when they first came to London. The air was stale and smelled of sweat and anxiety.

It took her a minute to get her feet under her, her limbs felt clumsy from disuse. She made her way into the main room and found Xander staring blankly at a TV screen displaying disaster footage from LA. He had several days worth of beard growth and his clothes were rumpled and sweat stained.

“How long have I been out?”

“Five days.” Xander didn't look away from the television.

She watched the TV silently for a few minutes with a growing sense of dread.

“She's dead isn't she?”

“They all are.”

She stumbled like she'd been punched and she slid to the floor, eyes fixed on the TV as she watched the city burn.

--

They hadn't all died. A few people survived the battle and there were a few who, like Dawn and Xander, had gone underground so that the Slayer line and the council knowledge wouldn't die in LA. Xander smiled sadly when he recounted the arguments Buffy had had with some of the girls.

“You should have seen her Dawnie, she was all power Buffy. She was like 'We didn't spend so much time defeating the First so that the Slayer line could end because one of my ex-boyfriends fucked up. You WILL get in those bunkers or I will knock you unconscious and put you there.'”

Dawn grimaced.

“Urgh. Sorry Dawn.”

“Buffy was all about taking away people's choices in this battle wasn't she?”

“Dawn...”

“Don't Xander. You two made all my decisions for me. You didn't give me any choice in my future and that sucks.”

“We didn't...”

“Shut up, you did. You and Buffy stole my last few days with all the people I love.”

“And what a great few days it was. Do you want to know what you missed out on? You missed 48 hours of Buffy getting tenser and tenser and quieter and quieter. The only times she really spoke were when she was snapping orders at everyone. You missed Willow going into seclusion with the coven to gather her strength and you missed the phenomenal fight Kennedy put up when we wouldn't let her go say goodbye. You missed Giles shaking with anger at Angel and yelling at Buffy and everyone else in range. You didn't miss out. You didn't need to see everyone like that.”

“Maybe I wanted to, I'm not a little kid. I should have a choice. And anyway maybe I could have helped.”

“No, you couldn't have. It wasn't a time for research, it was a time for pure power. The best thing for the non-super folks like us to do was just to get out of the way.”

Dawn let out a long exhale and hung her head. Xander reached out to touch her shoulder but she shrugged him off and shut herself into the bedroom.

--

Eventually the call came that it was time to come out of hiding and start to rebuild. Dawn and Xander were suddenly in great demand as two folks who'd been with the council longest. They moved into a tiny flat a few blocks from headquarters and started working to train the remaining Junior Watchers and Slayers in what it meant to fight the good fight.

Dawn hated it. She hated any reminders of Buffy or Sunnydale or the way life used to be. Every night she dreamed about running and every morning she checked airline prices. She figured Buenos Aires would be a good start. Her Spanish was excellent and she could easily disappear in a country that was famous for letting people hide.

She stayed because Buffy would have hated it, Buffy always wanted her to lead a normal life and deciding not to do that was the best way to say fuck you to a sister who didn't want to say goodbye. Besides that, she wasn't sure how to leave Xander. He would never even think to leave while the council needed him and it was clear to Dawn that he needed her. He spent every night drunk, slumped on the ugly gray couch they got second hand, watching old episodes of Star Trek.

Dawn couldn't really fault him for the drinking, she rarely got through the day without a little liquid help to numb her. She was just better than him at keeping it together. She never blacked out. Most of the time she remembered to eat. She never threw up. She made sure Xander ate and that he drank some water every night before he stumbled off to bed.

She wasn't particularly upset with Xander for the way he chose to deal with grief. Everybody had their vices. That's what kept them all from killing themselves.

Dawn's vices, outside of the mid-day drinks, were more social. Most nights she'd find a sleazy-ass club and a sleazy-ass guy and she'd fuck until she forgot. Often it was a quick screw in the bathroom or an alley but sometimes she'd go back to their place. She liked it hard and fast and intense enough that all she had space for in her head was the feel of them against her and inside her. She liked guys who'd pull her hair and call her a slut. She liked the feel of gravel against her knees while somebody shoved their cock down her throat. She liked threesomes and foursomes and being fucked so raw so that it hurt to sit down the next day.

One night she fucked a vampire in an alley, let him push her against a brick wall, let him push her skirt aside and shove into her body, let him scrape his teeth across her neck. She staked him with shaking hands before either of them came and she never went back to that club again.

--

And then Xander started to pull himself together and everything got harder. She still went out, but she had to leave later and come home earlier. Sneaking in drunk and sore at 5AM was not on her list of favorite things to do. She fabricated a few friends and occasionally told him she was spending the night with them. A few times Xander tried to talk to her about how she was doing, what was going on in her life but she always shut him down and then hid in her room until he fell asleep and she could leave.

Somewhat miraculously, she got away with it for a full two weeks. Then one morning she came home to find Xander sitting in a chair facing the door with a stack of photos in his lap. She walked in and stopped breathing.

“Xander, hi, I can explain...” He stood and handed her the stack of photos without a word.

She looked down and saw herself braced against a brick wall being fucked from behind. In the next picture she was on her knees unzipping a fly with her teeth. She flipped through the photos and saw image after image of herself with man after man.

“Fuck.”

“Is that all you're going to say?”

“You had me followed?”

“I tried following you myself but you walk surprisingly fast in stripper heels.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I had to know where you were going, Dawnie. You wouldn't talk to me and you were always sneaking out. What was I supposed to do?”

“Um, not have me followed?”

“I had to know, I was worried.”

“Well now you know. Does that make you happy? Was it worth the fact that I will NEVER trust you again?”

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, this doesn't make me happy. How could you self-destructing make me happy?”

“Oh please. Me self-destructing? I'm surprised you could pull yourself away from your beloved Jack Daniels long enough to give a shit what I'm doing.”

“This isn't about me. This is about you and the fact that you've been slutting it up all over London.”

She put down the pictures and walked towards her bedroom. “Fuck you Xander. I need to get some sleep before work.”

--

At the end of the day there were two Slayers waiting for her outside the council library.

“What's up guys?”

One of them, Sarah or Susan or something – Dawn stopped trying to learn names after LA – answered. “Mr. Harris says we should walk you home and wait with you until he gets there.”

Her jaw dropped. She contemplating arguing and then decided it would be better to take it up with someone who couldn’t snap her in half with barely any effort so she squared her shoulders and walked silently home flanked by the Slayers.

When Xander got home Dawn was overflowing with anger and frustration.

“You've got to be kidding me! Slayer babysitters?!”

“I needed to make sure you didn’t go anywhere.”

“You think I'm gonna sneak out for a quickie at 4 o'clock in the afternoon?”

“I don't know! Clearly I have no idea who you are anymore.”

“Bullshit Xander. You know who I am even if you don't particularly want to know.”

He stepped towards her, laid a hand on her arm. “I will always want to know you.”

She jerked away from him and stomped into her room.

Later, when she tried to sneak out, she found a Slayer posted at the door to the flat. She went into Xander's room and slammed his door to wake him.

“Why the fuck is it so important to you that I not get laid?”

He slumped against the wall by his bed. “It's not about the sex, Dawn. It's about the fact that you aren't dealing with your grief.”

“I'm dealing,” she sputtered, “I'm dealing great! I'm a festival of dealing!”

He shook his head. “You aren't. I wasn't either at first, but I'm trying now.”

“I'm dealing fine. Buffy and Willow and Giles and Andrew and everyone are dead. I can say it! They aren’t coming back, I can’t change it and everything is going to be fine. See! I'm totally at stage five acceptance.”

“Dawn. You're not. I think talking about it will help.”

“Go to hell.” She stormed into her room.

--

After a week of constantly being babysat by Slayers, Dawn felt like she was going to vibrate out of her skin. Xander had emptied all the liquor bottles and she was never without an escort long enough to go buy something. Xander checked in at odd intervals during the day so she couldn't sneak off to get fucked by any Watcher trainees.

There was nothing she could do that was distracting enough. Everyplace she went she saw Buffy, everything she did, she heard Willow.

She was losing her mind.

When he got home that night she begged him to let her out. He looked at her -- literally on her knees in front of his chair -- with sad eyes. “Dawn, why do you need this so badly?”

She shook her head, “I just do, do we have to analyze? Can't we just cut me a break here?”

“No. I'm sorry.”

She crawled closer to him and put a hand on his knee. “Please Xander, I just need out of this apartment. I'm going crazy in here.”

He shook his head.

She sat back on her heels and sighed. Then she sat up “Is it the sex? Are you jealous that I'll have sex with someone who isn't you.” She put her hand on his knee and slid it toward his crotch. “Is that it? Do you want me, Xander?”

He caught her hand in his. “No Dawn. I don't want to have sex with you. I do want to talk to you.”

She pulled her hand back and stood, leaned over him putting her chest at eye level for him, “I could make it really good for you.”

He shook his head.

She stepped away and flopped onto the couch. “I hate you.”

“I know. I just...I wish you would talk to me about what's going on for you. Why is it so hard for you to talk about it? Especially with me when you know I’m going through the same things. Why do you feel like you need to fuck or drink it away?”

She shook her head and looked away.

He moved so he was sitting next to her on the couch. He put his hand on her shoulder “Please Dawnie, talk to me.”

To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. It had been almost four months since Buffy died and she hadn't cried once. She'd been proud of that, it was the one way that she was staying strong the way Buffy wanted her to be. She couldn't seem to stop now though, with Xander rubbing her back in the first gentle non-sexual touch she'd felt in weeks. She started crying and she couldn't stop. She turned into Xander's embrace and clung to him, sobbing.

He rubbed her back and stroked her hair and made comforting noises in her ear.

When she pulled back she saw that his eyes were wet too. “I just miss them you know?”

He nodded.

“I don't know how to go forward missing people this much. It's like the summer after Buffy died-- times a million.”

He nodded again.

“I hate it.”

“Me too.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I'm sorry for being a huge drunk whore instead of talking to you.”

He laughed a little. “I'm sorry for drinking myself into a coma every night so that I didn't even notice.”

She leaned in to kiss him, gently, on the mouth.

“Dawn...”

She leaned in again and kissed him longer this time, opening her mouth against his and sliding her tongue out to lick at his lips.

“This is a bad idea.”

This time when she kissed him, he kissed back and she threaded her fingers through his hair. She pushed him back against the couch and settled on top of him, still kissing. When she guided his hand to her breast, he started to shake his head and pull away but she whispered “Please” against his lips and he acquiesced.

It was slower and quieter and softer than any sex she'd had in months. When she was naked and slowly sinking down on his cock he bit his lip and sucked in a sharp breath. She tightened her muscles to draw another inhale from him and then she started to move. She placed soft kisses all over his face, his lips, his nose, his good eye, the skin around his eye patch. He came quietly inside her and then worked her with his fingers until she came as well.

When she lay cuddled against his chest, he started to speak and she shushed him. “Please don't say this was a mistake. Not tonight. Please.”

“Okay. Okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to move to my bed so we can sleep better?”

She nodded and stood. He took her hand and led her to his room where they curled up together and slept.

--

When she woke the next morning she was still tucked tight against Xander and he was gently stroking her hair.

“Dawnie are you awake?”

She murmured a yes and he kissed the top of her head.

“We should talk.”

She nodded, unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Last night was a mistake.”

Dawn felt nausea swirl in her stomach.

“It was a spectacularly enjoyable mistake, but still definitely not something we should have done.”

She swallowed hard. “Why, exactly?”

“I shouldn’t be encouraging you to use sex to avoid your feelings.”

She pushed away from him and sat up. “You know what Xander? Fuck you. I talked to you last night. I fucking cried with you last night. When I go out and screw strangers that’s avoidance. Last night was different.”

He gave a short laugh. “Really? Because from where I’m sitting it seems like last night was your way of escaping a difficult conversation.”

“Jesus Christ! What part of me sobbing on your shoulder wasn’t difficult? What exactly was I trying to escape?”

“Fine. Not escape maybe, but end. You wanted a quick out, and I was too weak to say no.”

“A quick out would have been me standing up and going to my room. Me kissing you was…comfort. Closeness.”

He closed his eyes. “How do I know that? How do I know that you aren’t just trying to replace all those other guys?”

She quirked a smile. “Well, for one I didn’t ask you to pull my hair and call me a slut.”

“Dawn.”

She put her hand on his chest. “I just needed you Xander. You. Not sex. I needed you.”

He bit his lip was silent for a minute and then he nodded. “Okay.”

--

Dawn still struggled, still ached with loss, still hated the council, still plotted her escape to Argentina, but now she slept in Xander’s bed most nights and she made a genuine effort to tell him how she felt. Whenever it got too much and she thought her grip on sanity would slip she would find him and they would fuck and she would start to feel human again.

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t awful and that was enough for Dawn to get through.