Memories

"We commend to almighty God, our sister, Joyce Summers." Buffy looked away from her mother's grave and turned to Dawn, who was crying silently. 'Why couldn't I save her? What did I do wrong?' Buffy thought in anguish. "And we commit her body to the ground." The other Scoobies hung back, leaving the two Summers women to their grieving. "Earth to Earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust." The first pile of dirt was placed on the grave, Dawn began to cry harder and lay her head on Buffy's shoulder. Buffy tenderly stroked her hair, not letting herself cry, if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop.

When the service concluded, Buffy decided that Dawn should just come home instead of staying over at Willow and Tara's dorm. "Come on Dawn." She spoke quietly as not to startle the already distressed teen. "You can stay with Willow and Tara another night. We both need some rest." Dawn nodded through her tears, barely registering what she was agreeing to. Buffy wrapped her arm protectively around Dawn's shoulders and led her over to the rest of the group. They all tried to reassure the remaining Summers girls that everything would be alright. Buffy explained to Willow that Dawn would just be coming home that night. Willow gave her a watery smile.

"Of course Buffy. You guys need some time." Tara walked up to Buffy, grief for the woman and girl standing in front of her all over her face.

"It will get better you know. You just need to heal." Tara said in a knowing voice. Buffy enveloped her in a thankful hug, and squeezed her gently.

"Thanks Tara. I'm going to get Dawn home. I think we both want some rest." Buffy exclaimed sadly, as she brushed a stray bit of hair out of Dawn's face.

Dawn sniffled as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "C-can we go now?" She asked Buffy quietly as she put her arms around herself, trying to keep the pain in.

"Okay, thank you for everything guys." Buffy and Dawn walked out of the cemetery, Buffy's arm still draped across Dawn's shoulders.

.oOo.

It was shady enough in the cover that the trees provided that Spike was able to risk a walk back to his crypt. He had gone to the butchers for more blood using the tunnels about an hour ago. After everything that had happened recently, it was a wonder he even remembered that he needed to eat. God, so many things have gone wrong the last few weeks. He finally realized what he felt for Buffy and she completely rejected him. Before that, she said he was beneath her. He scoffed. She had absolutely no idea how deeply that phrase cut into him.

London 1880

"Your poetry, they're not written about me, are they?" Cecily asked the man sitting next to her, an air of contempt in her tone.

"They're about how I feel." A brown haired man by the name of William addressed her, trying to show confidence despite his fear.

"Yes, but are they about me?" She looked at William, already knowing the answer, just needing to hear it for herself, straight from the source.

He hesitated in his reply, not wanting to say anything to screw up what quite possibly could be his only shot with her. Taking in a deep breath he replied, "Every syllable."

"Oh god." She exclaimed. Not wanting to believe what was now confirmed.

"Oh uh, I know, s-sudden." He stuttered out as Cecily stood up off of the couch. "And, please, if they're no good, they're only words, but the feeling behind them, I love you Cecily." William was relieved to finally tell her how he felt, instead of watching her from afar, but by the look on her face, he knew something was wrong.

"Please, stop." She began frantically fanning herself as she paced around the room, trying to figure out how to explain this to William.

"I-I know I'm a bad poet, but I'm a good man. All I ask is tha-that you try to see me..." William was cut off by Cecily, who had decided that it was time to tell him how she felt in return.