Take Me Home
The road seemed to stretch out forever in front of them. It was an illusion though. Just like everything in life that seemed permanent. Nothing was, and Dawn had learned that early in life. Now, at twenty-five, things had come full circle. She watched the scenery passing them by, remembering other times she’d traveled this way. The last time though was so very long ago, almost ten years since she’d been here.
Tears spilled down her cheeks without her even being aware of them. Her hand was securely being held by Buffy who was crying harder than she was. Dawn scooted closer to her sister, laying her head on that shoulder that had borne so many things in her time as a Slayer. A sign appeared saying the road was closed. Buffy slowed the car, and finally stopped at the railing that overlooked the canyon that was once their home.
“We’re here,” Dawn said, reaching to undo her seat belt.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Buffy replied, turning to look at her. “It’s…oh, my god…it’s all gone. They’re all gone. Forgotten in some damn hole in the ground.”
“No, they’re not forgotten,” Dawn told her softly. “Never, not as long as we’re alive, not as long as the stories are still being told. Not as long as there is a breath in my body.”
“I know,” Buffy said, opening her car door.
Dawn’s life work was recording everything that had happened
on this Hellmouth, in
Following Buffy, she climbed out of the car, twisting her wedding band before she turned to reach into the back seat. It was Xander who had gotten her this far, his love and support giving her the strength to come back, just like Spike had given Buffy what she needed for this journey. They waited for them back at the hotel, ten miles back from where they were now.
Good-byes needed to be said, regrets, and fears needed to be
let go of, and the future embraced. This trip was for the sister’s; the boys
would come the next day before they all flew back to
“Ready?” Dawn asked, reaching for Buffy’s hand again.
“Yeah,” Buffy said, pulling her sister close.
Together they walked to the edge, leaning over the railing to peer down at what was left of Sunnydale. Excavations had been made over the years, things retrieved, but never the bodies of those left behind. Their graves were down there somewhere.
The first dozen roses were plucked out one by one and thrown over the edge for those left behind. The sister’s giving their love with each toss for those they missed still. The sobs were pulling them apart as they each wrapped a hand around the last dozen, and together they whispered into the wind, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. We love and miss you.”
~~~ The End ~~~
