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Both Sides Now	By : addielogan Category: BtVS AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 6136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 25
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- 27
"Don't see
you down here in the training rooms a lot, bit."
The sound of
Spike's voice didn't make Dawn stop hitting the bag in front of her to turn to
turn and look at him. "I needed a workout," she said.
"I can see
that."
After a few
minutes, Dawn realized Spike wasn't going to leave her alone to pummel the bag
in peace. She stopped then, pushing a damp strand of hair that had escaped her
ponytail from her eyes as she grabbed her water bottle. "Are you here for
a reason?"
"I do work
here," Spike replied. "Head of training and all
that."
Dawn took a drink
of her water. "This is just a workout room, not your office."
Spike didn't let Dawn's
attitude drive him away. He had three Summers women to
deal with on a daily basis�he was used to them. "You know what
helps�taping a drawing of whomever you're wishing that is to the bag. Good
stress reliever, that."
Dawn's mouth
twitched up a little. "I'll keep that in mind."
"I heard
Andrew's back," Spike stated bluntly.
"You really
don't grasp the concept of easing into a topic, do you?" Dawn asked,
gesturing towards Spike with her water bottle as she spoke.
He shrugged.
"Seems like a waste of time to me. You all right, bit?"
With anyone else,
she'd say yes, she was fine. She wanted to hit things now, not talk. But Spike
wouldn't let her get away with lying, so she didn't. "Not really. It's
been�stressful."
"Are you
holding together?"
Dawn took another
sip from the water bottle. That was the question, wasn't it? "More or
less, I suppose. It just threw me."
Spike gave a
small nod. "If you need anything, shoulder to cry on,
ice cream, big brother to kick a little ass, just let me know."
"I
will," Dawn said, chuckling.
"Daddy,
daddy, daddy!"
Spike turned
quickly a grin breaking across his face as a little girl with dark blonde
pigtails ran into the room and jumped into his arms. "There's my
Annie-bit," he said, hugging her.
Anne smiled
brightly at her father, then looked over at Dawn. "Hi, Aunt Dawnie!"
Dawn smiled back.
"Hi, sweetie."
Buffy came in a
moment later, carrying her infant son. "Sorry. Anne hit the ground running
as soon as we got here."
"I smelled
Daddy," Anne said, putting her head against the crook of her father's neck.
Buffy moved
closer to Spike and put her hand against his back. They looked like such a
happy family, and for the first time, Dawn looked at them with� She frowned
slightly, trying to put a name to what she was feeling. It wasn't really jealousy, but it could've been
close.
Seeing the four
of them together brought her mind back to her dream from the other night and
what she'd felt when she'd looked into Summer's eyes and realized who the girl
was. It wasn't something she wanted right now exactly�she was only twenty�but she did
someday, and there was a part of her that still wanted the person she shared
her life with to be Andrew.
Dawn shook the
feeling away. It wasn't like she'd missed her only chances to find love. She
was far from an old maid. She'd find someone else. Maybe Andrew coming
back to London with a fianc�e was just what she needed to push her into moving
on. Losing him the way she had had always led her to hold on to an idea that
maybe he'd come back to her someday and they could start over again. She'd lost
that hope, so now she really could move on.
As soon as she
stopped feeling like her heart had broken all over again, that was. Right now
Andrew's reappearance felt less like it was lifting a weight from her shoulders
and more like it was ripping open old wounds. But that had to change, didn't
it?
Dawn watched as
Spike gently kissed the top of Buffy's head. They'd both been through so
much�together and apart�to get what they had today. If they could find
happiness, then certainly Dawn could, too. She'd find someone for her, someone
other than Andrew.
So why was it that that thought somehow seemed even worse than
facing the rest of her life alone?

*** *** ***
Andrew sat up
sharply in bed, his breathing heavy and his body covered in sweat. It took him
a moment to calm down, to remember that he was someplace safe now.
Even when he did,
his heart didn't seem to want to stop pounding in his chest.
He looked beside
him to see Cynthia sleeping peacefully. He wondered how she could do it, how she could keep herself from having nightmares after
everything they'd seen. Ever since they'd come back to England, she'd seemed to
just forget about the past three years. She acted as if everything
they'd faced was simply something that you could put behind you and move on
from.
Andrew had tried
talking to her about what he was feeling, but she'd acted as if everything he
was saying was insane, and he'd dropped the subject. Maybe he was
insane. Maybe his nerves, his nightmares, and his constant feelings of
confusion and detachment really were just because he'd gone crazy. Hell seemed
as good a place as any to lose your mind.
He lay down again
and tried to fall back asleep, but every time he closed his eyes the images
from his latest nightmare came back. Only they weren't just that, they were memories,
and that made them all the worse. He turned to the clock and saw that it was
only two in the morning. Hours before sunrise and sleep wasn't coming.
He needed air.
Maybe that would help his mind calm enough for him to get some rest. With a
quick glance at Cynthia, Andrew rolled out of bed. He put on a t-shirt and his
shoes and left their flat.
There was a small
courtyard outside of the building, and Andrew decided to go there, remembering
that it had always been a peaceful place to be when he'd been there before. He
took the stairs down and walked out the door, only to come to an abrupt stop
when he realized the courtyard wasn't as deserted as he'd thought it would be.
Andrew almost
turned and walked back inside before she saw him, but he didn't. He couldn't.
Even with all the tension now between them, he couldn't help but be drawn to
her. "Couldn't sleep either?"
Dawn turned with
a gasp. "Geez, Andrew! You can't just go around sneaking up on
people!"
He gave her an
almost-apologetic smile. "Sorry. I spent the past three years having to be
sneaky all the time. It's a hard habit to break. I'll work on walking
louder."
"You do
that. And no, I couldn't sleep. Although that probably has a
lot to do with the fact that I spent most of the day in bed." Dawn
bit her lip. Why wasn't she telling him to go away?
"That could
have something to do with it. Can I sit here?" He gestured to the bench
she was on.
Dawn looked
between him, the empty space, and back again. "Yeah, I guess."
Andrew stepped
from the shadows into the dim light of the streetlamp that lit the courtyard,
and Dawn could see the dark circles under his eyes. She realized that this
wasn't the first night of late that he hadn't been able to sleep. He sat and an
uneasy silence fell between them. The sounds of the night that had been there
to keep her company before he'd come down seemed to disappear and now the lack
of sound was oppressive, making her want to yell, hum, anything to break it.
When it got to be too much, she asked the first question that came to her mind.
"What was it
like?"
"What was
what like?"
"Hell."
He shrugged.
"It was hell." He gave her a lop-sided smile, but it didn't travel to
his eyes.
Part of her
wanted to tell him he'd gotten what he'd asked for, doing something like that,
but she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. That was too much, too
cruel, and she didn't feel it. "I went to a hell dimension a few years
ago," she said. "It wasn't really all that bad, though. Well, apart
from having to walk across this stormy desert place and this demon lizard guy
who wanted to bleed me dry to start yet another apocalypse, but it could've
been worse."
"Are you all
right?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah. It wasn't like I was
alone. Buffy and Spike were there. And Emma�she's my best friend and one of the
new Slayers."
"Emma
Rawlings?"
"Heard of
her?"
"Giles
mentioned her," Andrew said. "He said she was the stand-out new
Slayer, though she'd been reluctant to be paired with a Watcher. He said if I
thought I could start working with Slayers, that maybe she'd work with
me."
Dawn snorted.
"Yeah, I don't see that happening." At least she hoped not. Her
ex-boyfriend being her best friend's Watcher? 'Cause that
wouldn't make for lots of awkwardness or anything�
"I didn't
agree to it," Andrew replied. "I am in no shape to be in charge of
anyone."
That gave Dawn
pause. "What do you mean?"
Andrew almost
shrugged off her question, gave her an answer that he hoped could pass for
plausible even if it wasn't the truth. Instead, he answered her with, "I'm
a wreck right now, Dawn. I can't sleep. Every little noise makes me jump. And
even in silence, I still hear things. Screams� I can't make any of it go
away."
She didn't want
to feel sympathy for him. Going there had been his choice, after all. But she
couldn't fight the tug she felt on her heart. They'd been in love once, and he
was hurting now. And not like she'd wanted him to hurt�not like she was
hurting. It was something else, something worse, something she didn't want him
to have to feel.
Dawn put her hand
against his arm. "Talk to me about it?"
Andrew looked at
her, met her eyes. "I don't know if I can. I don't even know what to say.
Nothing's�nothing's right anymore. I want the last three years to be a dream,
but they're not. They were real, and now nothing else feels real except that. I
feel lost and confused, and just�detached." He drew in a slow, shaky
breath. "And I sound like a crazy person."
Dawn's hand
hadn't left his arm, and now it was stroking his skin. Andrew shivered and
hoped that if she noticed, she'd blame it on the cool, night air. "No, you
don't sound like a crazy person. You sound like someone who's suffered through
a lot and is trying to deal with it."
"I'm not
dealing very well." Andrew moved his arm back away from her. "It's not
like this for Cynthia. She seems to think I need to just get over it all and
get on with life."
Dawn didn't
really want to talk about her. The thought that Andrew was going to marry
another woman still made her want to vomit. But she'd told him to talk, so she
might as well listen. "What do you mean?"
Andrew ran his
hand through his hair. It was longer than it had been before, curlier. But they
weren't the tight curls, like the ones she'd found in Spike's hair when he gave
in and let her mess with it. They were loose, soft, like they'd wrap easily
around her fingers. She shook that thought away.
"She was
right there with me the whole time," Andrew said. "She saw everything
that I saw. So she should know what I'm feeling. Or at least I thought she would.
But when I try to talk to her about it, she doesn't seem to at all. She tells
me that's the past, and we were just doing our jobs
anyway. She says I need to be focusing on our future together now." He
squirmed a little on the bench. Discussing his fianc�e with Dawn was not a
comfortable subject.
Dawn knew this
was an opening of sorts. She could very easily badmouth Cynthia now, use words
to drive a wedge between the couple. Maybe it would even get her Andrew back,
if that was what she really wanted. All she had to do was paint Cynthia as the
bitch that would never understand him and herself as the caring, loving woman
who would.
"Maybe
that's her own way of coping with it," she said after a moment. "It's
all hard for her to deal with, so she's trying to focus on something more
positive. It was a bad part of her life, so now she wants to get on with the
good part�the part with you."
He frowned, his
brow wrinkling. "I didn't think of that."
"You two
will work it all out," Dawn said, hoping it didn't sound like a
meaningless platitude. Or bitter� She stood. "I should really be
getting back in."
"Yeah, okay.
Sleep tight, Dawnie."
"Thanks. You, too."
"I'll do
what I can," Andrew said with a mirthless laugh.
Dawn started to
walk away, but turned back around when she heard Andrew call her name. "Yeah?"
"I� I don't
want you to hate me."
Dawn's heart
seemed to do a funny little jump in her chest. "I don't. I'm� I'm hurt and
I'm angry, but I don't hate you."
Andrew let out
the breath that he had been holding. "I'm glad. Not that you're hurt and
angry, but that you don't hate me." He cleared his throat. "Do you
think that maybe, someday, we could be friends again?"
"I don't
know." Dawn answered truthfully.
"That's
better than a flat out no, I guess," Andrew replied. "Good night,
Dawn."
"Good
night." She went back into the building, leaving Andrew alone with his
thoughts.

*** *** ***
- 25
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- 27
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