Title: Never Grow

Author: Sarah.

Disclaimer: I would never do such a strange and terrible thing.

Spoilers: The Gift. Forgot to put that on the last one... *slapped wrist*

sorry.

Feedback: Craved. katy@hawkins41.freeserve.co.uk

Inspiration: is a truly wonderful thing. Older, by Jessica Laine (check her

out) and Last Resort by Papa Roach.

Dedication: To all my feedbackers (you know who you are!), you rock! and to

Davey, stop bloody making me WRITE!!!

Never Grow

"You have to stop doing this."

Touch the cold, cold granite. Trace the letters of her name with a shaking

hand and know that she died for you.

"Stop what?"

She's under here, you know. If I kneel just a little to the left, I could

dig a hole straight down to where she is. I was a part of her and she loved

me. And I loved her and I let her die. What kind of a sister would do that?

"Stop coming here. It's not healthy."

She was always healthy. Hair like gold and a smile like sunshine. I was

always so plain next to her. Nothing special next to my beautiful sister.

But I was something special. I was a part of her and that, that must make me

special. Mustn't it. My own warped brand of Dawn-logic, I suppose.

"To grieve?"

Is that my voice? So flat and so... dead, somehow. Lifeless. Like the rock.

I run my hand over the smoothness. So cold and so good. Forbidden fruit. But

it's a rock, how can it be fruit? Don't giggle, because Xander will tell you

off. It's not healthy.

"To keep coming here," he says again, more firmly this time. "You can't move

on. You can't grow. It's okay to grieve, Dawn. Just - don't make this place

a shrine. Don't make it your Mecca. That's not how it should be."

Xander, talking like a grown up. They say it takes a tragedy, well, well,

well. I suppose he's right. I can't grow without Buffy. It seems almost like

she's reaching up from the wooden box and holding my ankles down. Severing

my roots so I can't ever blossom and grow. But how did I grow anyway? I'm

not even real. She's real. but she's never going to grow any more.

"My Mecca."

Shrine to the goddess Buffy. Hail to her, our princess. Those who were saved

should flock to her grave. that rhymes. Save, grave. Stupid. Because if you

had been saved, why would you need a grave? I couldn't save her. I couldn't

stop her. I'm just useless, practically orphaned, not-even-real sister

killer Dawn.

"Dawnie?"

"Don't call me that."

I don't want anyone to call me that since Buffy d- since she - I don't want

anyone else to call me it except her. I'm a piece of her. Maybe they should

call me Buffy. I'm all there is left of her now. "Hey, remember that time

she died, and you saved her?"

Uncomfortable silence. Then - "Yeah."

"How come you didn't do it this time?"

"I-"

"It's okay. I know."

I know Xander couldn't save her. Cause I'm the only one who could save her

and I didn't. I should have stopped her. I should have thrown myself down

instead. She didn't want her sister to die. But it's okay for me to be left

behind to suffer? It's okay for me to stay here and wither, and never grow,

and grieve? Hey, Buffy, when you think about it, what you did was really

selfish.

Selfish. Buffy. Hardly.

She saved the world. A lot.