Dawn
Part 1
Red Moon, Book 8
Author: Frau Hunter Ash
Copyright © 2003- 2004 by Hunter Ash. All Rights Reserved.
Email: hunterash7@yahoo.com
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Disclaimers: The characters and show all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox,
Mutant Enemy, Kuzui, and God only knows whom else. The storyline, however, is
the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit
in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must
include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
F/F romance: the story assumes a loving and sexual relationship between people of the same gender and may even include 3 at the same time <G>. If this offends or is illegal for you, then please leave. Come back when you are older, have an open mind, moved, or changed your laws.
Spoilers: This series starts at Season 4 and branches off.
Summary: Two new members of the house try and settle into the Summers house and in Sunnydale. (While it's not absolutely necessary, you might want to read Book 1: Red Moon Rising , Book 2: Wolves, Slayers and Cages , Book 3: Wanted – A Werewolf and a Superman , Book 4: In Thrall, Book 5: Welcome to My Nightmare, Book 6: Family Matters, Book 7: Ripper, to find out where things are at in this story. <G>)
Rating: PG13, UK 12, Aus M
Red Moon Series, Book 8
Frau Hunter Ash
# # #
“Well, Dawn,” Joyce said slowly, watching the young girl’s fearful eyes. “Welcome to California and the Summers-Giles family. Giles will be surprised but pleased, I think.”
“Yeah,” Buffy smiled. “I’m your step sister. Your OLDER step sister.”
“I’ve explained some of the weirdness of the family but not Sunnydale,” Ethan smiled and kissed Dawn’s cheek. “I’ll be around off and on.”
“Okay, take care, Uncle Ethan,” Dawn said, quickly hugging him.
“Welcome to Sunnyhell,” Willow muttered, frowning in deep thought.
# # #
Buffy grinned when she entered the Physical Therapy room and found Joyce gently urging Giles to take a few more steps along the parallel bars. It had been a week since her step-father, Watcher and friend had emerged from his coma and was now trying to rebuild his strength. Not only had the coma sapped his strength and muscle tone but also the previous starvation, dehydration and torture had already stressed his body beyond its limits before he had lapsed into a coma.
“Hey, Mom, hey Giles, looking good there,” Buffy said cheerfully even though she thought he still looked like hell. It was better than the coma, she decided.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Giles mumbled as Joyce moved the wheelchair to the end of the bars for him to sit down once he reached his limit. “I’m weak as a newborn kitten, thin as a rail and I look horrible, I know that.”
“You’re awake, aware and here, everything else we can get back,” Buffy countered. “When do we spring you?”
“Later this afternoon,” Joyce smiled and Buffy was glad to see the hope in her Mom’s eyes. “It’ll take time to build the muscles back but his kidneys, liver and everything is functioning fine and no threat of any more heart attacks so they’re going to release him.”
“The psych give him a clean bill then?” Buffy smiled, helping Joyce move Giles into the wheelchair. He was sweating and trembling but was making improvements every day, Buffy noted.
“Yes, I’m only slightly mad,” Giles tried to smile. “I’m not dangerous to myself or anyone else so they can’t keep me.”
“Most excellent news,” Buffy grinned. “I’ll stop by the store and grab some steaks and we’ll have a celebration dinner.”
“How is Dawn settling into school?” Giles asked with a frown.
Buffy shrugged. “Kinda hard for her but we’re making sure to talk with her every night, encourage her and stuff. It’ll help when you’re home and both parental types are around.”
Giles nodded as Joyce wheeled him towards his room, his eyes distant.
It had taken two days of talking and reassurance once Giles had awakened, to convince the Watcher that the girls and Joyce weren’t disappointed in him, to explain his time being tortured by Rack and the resulting mental collapse. Then they had hit him with the news that he was the father of a sixteen-year-old girl that Ethan had cared for.
That had taken quite a bit of time and talking to convince Giles it wasn’t another trick of Ethan’s, to convince all of them, actually. Finally, DNA tests had been done and Dawn was indeed Giles’ child, sharing his DNA.
The first meeting between father and daughter had been strained but not as horrible as Giles had feared. Dawn didn’t seem to blame him for not being in her life for the first sixteen years of her life and she, in turn, explained that Ethan had been good to her and her grandparents.
It had been Dawn’s choice to meet Giles and stay with him and family if he accepted her once Ethan presented the opportunity to her.
Everyone had met in Giles’ room and discussed it, including Buffy, Willow and Tara since they still lived in the Summers home. Dawn had smirked at first when she learned the details of their relationship and Buffy’s eyes had narrowed, Willow had blushed and Tara had grabbed their hands, trying to keep both of them calm.
Dawn shrugged and said she didn’t care what they did in the bedroom and Willow had growled softly.
The Sunnydale group was relieved to find that Ethan had indeed informed Dawn of some of the stranger aspects of their family and their lives, including the truth of vampires, demons, werewolves and sorcerers. What he had left out, however, was the total explanation of Slayers and Watchers, Ethan’s bitterness slanting the tale somewhat.
“Figures,” Giles had muttered. He knew Ethan had always hated Giles’ destiny to be a Watcher and particularly disliked Buffy and her friends for keeping Giles away from the chaotic magic Ethan enjoyed.
“Short story,” Buffy frowned, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “To fight vampires and other evil stuff, a Slayer was summoned. The Slayer is always a young girl and when the previous Slayer dies, the Chosen One gets a boost in strength, fighting skills, instincts, stuff like that.”
“And she is assigned a Watcher from the Watcher Council,” Willow continued. “Buffy’s a Slayer and Giles is her Watcher.”
“So she fights vampires until when? She retires at 30 or something?” Dawn asked.
“No, until she’s killed and the next Slayer is called,” Buffy said calmly. “Usually before they hit eighteen.”
Dawn blinked and then frowned. “But you’re like old already… twenty or something.”
“Something like that,” Buffy shook her head. “I was called at fifteen and I’ve been doing this ever since.”
“She also died at age sixteen,” Joyce added as Buffy dropped her head, not meeting her mother’s eyes. It was still an uncomfortable subject for mother and daughter. “She was revived with CPR but she died.”
Dawn continued to frown, munching on popcorn. “So you’re like a super-hero? You dash off at the Bat Signal at night?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, I go and hang out in graveyards and look for vampires. I fight them, get bruised, ruin my outfits, almost get killed and then rush home to do my homework. It’s really glamorous.”
“Especially when you get a demon that slimes you,” Tara smiled, trying to relieve the tension at the table.
“And getting vampire dust out of your hair, it’s so hard on the hair taking a shower twice a day,” Willow added.
“And having your mother think you’re in a gang or on drugs is definitely a high light of high school,” Buffy smiled.
“So, it’s kinda like a job?” Dawn asked calmly.
“Yeah, one that means I can’t tell anyone, never have a real life, and die young,” Buffy shrugged.
“Which also means you can’t say a word,” Giles said firmly.
“So what’s your role in this?” Dawn asked, turning her attention to her father. “You just ‘watch’?”
“No, that’s the title,” Giles sighed, shifting in his chair. “Watchers train Slayers in fighting, demon lore, and how to stay alive as long as possible. We also research demonology, prophecies, and anything that might be relevant.”
“So under the shirt and tie, you have to be martial arts trainer and stuff? You’re not just Alfred to Buffy’s Batman?” Dawn smirked.
“Hardly,” Giles grumbled.
“Hey, Giles got a pop culture reference,” Willow teased and was rewarded with Giles throwing some popcorn at her.
“And you guys are what? Shaggy and Velma?” Dawn ventured.
“I am so not going to argue which one would be Shaggy,” Buffy smirked. “Willow and I were in highschool together, along with Xander and Anya. Tara we met at college. Creepy demon stuff, magic, and werewolves later, we’re together.”
“And you’re a werewolf,” Dawn muttered. “Do I need to map all of this out to keep it all straight? Oh, sorry, not exactly straight, huh?”
“One more crack about our sexuality and I’ll demonstrate Slayer strength,” Buffy warned.
“I’m a werewolf and a witch,” Willow admitted, blushing slightly.
“And a fantastic student, great hacker and loyal friend,” Tara added, leaning against Willow’s shoulder playfully.
“I’m supposed to go to high school, learn to be American, and keep all of this secret,” Dawn asked with a slight whine to her voice.
“If you want to stay here, yes,” Giles nodded. “I’d like to get to know you and make up for lost time but the decision is yours if you wish to return to England or not. You know the truth about Sunnydale and the family. It’s dangerous, secretive and even if you tried to tell others, they probably wouldn’t believe you.”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised,” Buffy nodded. “Vampires attack the school and the principal said it was a gang on PCP. Demons destroy half of down-town and the police said it was a marauding biker gang.”
“And when no one could speak, officials said it was cosmic rays or something,” Tara shrugged.
“The Hellmouth protects itself,” Giles explained.
“I wanna think about this,” Dawn said softly, taking her coke and heading out onto the back porch.
Buffy shrugged and leaned over, reaching for Willow and Tara’s hands. “I’m glad I was an only child until now.
“I’ll talk with her,” Giles said softly, kissing Joyce on the cheek. He moved slowly out the backdoor.
Dawn looked up and smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, I’m staying. We can do the Father-Daughter bonding thing.”
“Dawn, I don’t know what to say,” Giles admitted, sitting down on the bench next to her. “You don’t have to stay. Sunnydale is extremely dangerous and not really a place to raise a family or establish a bonding relationship.”
“Joyce raised Buffy here and you wanted her here,” Dawn frowned. “Your group worked it so they’d come here, right?”
“Yes,” Giles nodded. “The Council isn’t interested in the lives of the Slayers, just that they get the job done. Normally the girls are taken from their families at a young age and taught demon lore, fighting and such in case they are called.”
“So you didn’t care that she would probably get killed,” Dawn accused.
“I cared and I came to care very much,” Giles frowned. “I came to love all of them and sought to protect them from what they hunt, from the Council when it’s wrong, and from life in general when I can. Dawn, I didn’t know about you, I swear. I wouldn’t have come to America if I had.”
“Okay,” Dawn said softly, leaning against his shoulder.
# # #
“Rupert, we need a bigger house or the girls need their own,” Joyce complained as Dawn dashed by her, almost knocking the woman down as she headed for the front door. “Slow down!”
“Sorry! Gonna be late!” Dawn yelled, slamming the door.
“I thought living with Buffy in her teen years was difficult,” she sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table with her husband. “Now you want to add more to the mix. An unrelated teenage male in with your teenage daughter?”
Giles frowned and looked up from his morning tea. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.
“Why on earth would Quentin Travers send you the first male Slayer after everything we’ve been through?” Joyce persisted. “You’re still using a cane! And there aren’t supposed to be male Slayers.”
“That’s what Buffy keeps complaining,” Giles smiled. “All Quentin would say is that the boy was an experiment and he needs to be trained. That there have been problems with his Slayer abilities and adjustment.”
“So they figure since you tamed Buffy that you can handle this? What about the rest of us?” Joyce asked. “We’ve a new teenage daughter that you didn’t know you had, you’re not totally recovered yet, and the girls are still settling in after the last round with the Council.”
“Perhaps its time for the girls to have a place of their own,” Giles said thoughtfully. “And Demetri can stay with them or Xander and Anya and I’ll train him like I did Buffy.”
Joyce sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I almost lost you and
I’m feeling very selfish. I want time with you, alone.”
Giles reached over and pulled Joyce’s hand to his cheek. “I love you, Joyce.
That love pulled me back. You and the girls and I’m not risking that any time
soon. We’ll take a few days, yes? Just you and me out of Sunnydale? The girls
can handle Dawn.”
“Please,” Joyce said softly.
“I’ll arrange it, luv,” Giles said gently.
# # #
Demetri Androvich stepped off the plane slowly, catching his breath after spending hours flying from England. The boy was tired, scared, angry and hungry.
He walked down the long, wide hallway at LAX, a little worried that his new guardians might not be there for him. It would be his luck, Demmy thought to himself, bounced from one home to another all his life, from scientist to Watcher to teacher and back and forth. The last Watcher had been an old man who had grown hard of hearing and somewhat senile.
Demmy figured from that placement and several before it that the group responsible for him, didn’t want him. Then Quentin had told Demmy that he was being sent to the United States to a new Watcher, to train with one of the best Slayers ever in history, Buffy Summers.
Demmy had been excited but hadn’t shown it, years of living with strangers from age four onwards, had taught the boy to hold his emotions inside; mostly. The one emotion Demmy had a problem with was anger, one of many problems that bounced him around from place to place. He had heard of Buffy Summers, every Slayer trainee had, she was a legend for having lived this long as a Slayer and for saving the entire world several times. He had also heard the rumors that Buffy Summers was one of the Council’s most irritating chapters in Slayer history.
The Russian boy had also been cautious. After being rejected so many times, he wondered how he had earned this honor. Demmy decided to investigate his new placement and used his Slayer skills by sneaking away from his classes at Council Headquarters and breaking into Quentin Travers’ office. The male Slayer spent over an hour copying files on Buffy Summers, Sunnydale, Rupert Giles and the people known as the Scooby Gang onto computers disks to be read later.
One of the few possessions the boy had was a laptop computer the old Watcher had given him to help with his studies. Later that night he inserted the disks and began reading.
Demmy had learned the long history of Buffy Summers and those surrounding her. For being only sixteen, the Russian had learned how to read between lines early on in life and could tell from the reports that it was true the Council didn’t like Buffy Summers and her Watcher. They had even fired Rupert Giles only to lose their Slayer as well.
The Council’s reports then took a surprising and dangerous tone when Buffy and her two female friends: Willow and Tara, reached adulthood and Willow was discovered to be possessed of great magical ability and the curse of lycanthropy.
Demmy frowned as he read the reports of the Council members who had attempted to kill the young witch. The threats to the family, the supposed bargain to train the three women with the ultimate plan being to devastate Willow’s powers and possibly her mind. The last report was Quentin’s recounting the tale of attempting to have Buffy Summers assassinated, Tara injured and Willow kidnapped and how that failed. The only thing that kept the boy from turning on the Council himself was that it appeared to be a plot by a subgroup in the Council. One that had been disbanded and dismissed in disgrace.
The Russian teen knew Demmy was another way for Quentin to get back at the Sunnydale group. The male Slayer wasn’t wanted, he was a failure as the first male Slayer, and now he was being pawned off on Rupert Giles as a way to get rid of Demmy and to irritate and task the Scooby gang.
By the time Demmy arrived in America, he was determined to do his best to prove himself somewhat worthy to the group but unsure if he’d attempt to let any of them in. A lifetime of losing friends and family had thickened his skin quiet a bit.
Demmy spotted Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles waiting patiently outside the doors of the hallway in the waiting area of the International Hub of LAX. He recognized them from photos and descriptions. It also helped that Buffy was holding a small sign with his name on it.
“I am Demetri,” he said slowly as he approached them with one drag-along piece of luggage and a laptop case.
“Welcome to America, Demetri,” Buffy smiled, picking up his suitcase. “Any other cases?”
“No, I travel light and have cleared Customs,” he responded, watching Giles watch him.
“I’m Rupert Giles, Demetri,” Giles said easily, holding out his hand to the boy.
Demmy was surprised, not many treated him as a young man and he responded with a firm handshake, surprised to feel some hidden strength in Giles’ hand and forearm.
“Come on, bro,” Buffy urged. “We’re parked across the street on the second level.”
“Ever been to the States?” Giles asked as the boy walked along with Buffy, taking in the details of the youth. Tall for sixteen at six feet, lanky with a thin build and a somewhat thin face that made him look studious. Dark black and unruly hair, with bright blue eyes that were rather startling. Giles thought Demetri looked too pale and tense.
“No, I’ve lived in England and all over Europe since I was four years old,” Demmy responded, gasping slightly when they exited the terminal. “It’s warm. I thought that was just on TV.”
“It’s California,” Buffy grinned. “We’ll get you nicely tanned while skiing over Winter break.”
“Skiing? I love skiing!” Demmy smiled for the first time since leaving England. “Is it true you can surfboard here? I’ve always wanted to try.”
“Yep!” Buffy nodded, pointing the way towards the car. “We could go snow skiing up until May in some parts of California and surfing almost year round with wet suits. What do you like to do, Demetri? Hobbies, obsessions, favorite studies?”
“Besides vampires, demons, and Watchers?” Demmy asked bitterly. “How about we begin the drive and I’ll tell you about me?”
“Sounds good,” Buffy shrugged, unlocking the trunk of her Mom’s new car, a lovely Passat®.
Giles motioned Demetri to crawl into the passenger seat as he got behind the wheel and Buffy headed for the back. The Watcher negotiated the car out of the parking lot, onto LA streets and then onto the freeway.
“We’ve got about two hours before we get to Sunnydale and I thought we’d stop along the way for something to eat,” Giles suggested.
“What kind of food do you like?” Buffy asked from the back.
“Most any kind, I’m afraid I haven’t had a lot of American specialties though. I do like Asian, Baltic, English, German, Russian, French, Italian and stuff,” Demmy tried to explain.
“Steak,” Buffy said firmly. “We’ll spring hot Mexican food on him later.”
Giles nodded as he settled into the flow of traffic. “Demetri, I should tell you that the Council has told us virtually nothing about you or why they sent you to us. They’ve left it up to you, son.”
“Demmy, call me Demmy,” the Russian teen said softly, glancing out the window into the bright lights of surrounding Los Angeles in the dark. “I’m the first male Slayer and I’m a failure. That’s why I’m here, they didn’t know what to do with me and they thought your group could handle me or kill me for them.”
Demmy heard Buffy’s low growl from the back and wondered if she was growling at him as a male Slayer, his failure or the Council’s plans.
“You’re here and you’re alive,” Giles said with a frown. “You can’t be a failure if you’re alive.”
Demmy laughed bitterly. “I’ve lived with Watchers and scientists all my life, I know when something is a failure.”
“How did you become a Slayer?” Buffy finally asked the question that had been driving all of them crazy.
“I was born a Slayer, as you were,” Demmy began slowly. “But I’m the product of DNA manipulation. They took the genes from a Slayer and the son of a Slayer, mixed them together with some vampire ones and impregnated several young women.”
“Son of a Slayer? Slayers having children are extremely rare,” Giles frowned. “I know only about a handful.”
Demmy shrugged.
“How many of you lived?” Buffy asked, joining in Giles’ frowning.
“The first three sets didn’t survive,” Demmy continued. “The first set of embryos died in the first trimester, the second set were still born, and the third set were still born and killed the mother in childbirth. Next the Council impregnated a Slayer who had been blinded.”
“Oh God,” Giles muttered.
“Yes,” Demmy nodded. “She lived and I was born. I was taken from her and her Watchers when I was four years old. I’ve never seen her since.”
“Giles, can we find out where she is?” Buffy asked softly, touching her stepfather’s shoulder.
“Yes, Willow should be able to hack in and find some information,” Giles said firmly.
Demmy looked surprised. “You… you would try and find her for me? Why?”
“You’re supposed to be our responsibility now,” Giles said with a smile. “If you would like to know what happened to her, maybe even see her, we’ll arrange it.”
Demmy blinked and looked out the window, stunned.
“Why does the Council think you’re a failure?” Giles prompted after a few moments of silence.
“I have the strength of a Slayer and the enhanced senses,” Demmy said slowly. “I also have a really annoying disability. I lose those senses in random order.”
“What do you mean?” Buffy asked, leaning forward.
“Out of nowhere I go blind for hours, or deaf, or lose my balance,” Demmy explained. “Sometimes in the middle of a fight. I barely survived two vampires once when I became blind. I had to let them get close enough to stake them instead of fighting them like a regular Slayer.”
“Does the Council and scientists have any idea why this happens to you?” Giles asked, amazed at the unusual occurrences that could strike the boy.
“No, they believe it might be the splicing of the three different DNAs: slayer, son and vampire, that fight and cancel each other out or something,” Demmy laughed bitterly. “The vampire and Slayer DNA fight with each other.”
“Can they do anything about that?” Buffy frowned.
“Apparently not, after I hit ten and began having the fits, they abandoned the program and began shuffling me from one Watcher or scientist to another,” Demmy continued. “They trained me like a Slayer since I might attract vampires and demons with my Slayer blood but it was only to give me a fighting chance. They don’t consider me a Slayer.”
Buffy saw Giles frowning in the rearview mirror and nodded.
“Well, the Council has been wrong in the past,” Buffy said firmly. “Demmy, we just have to teach you how to be a Slayer with each disability when it hits. They teach people with handicaps how to fight back all the time. We just need to combine all of them for you.”
Demmy frowned, glancing over to the infamous and legendary Watcher for his judgment and found Giles nodding.
“Bloody idiots, they’re just being short sighted,” Giles grumbled. “Just because they abandoned the program and you with it doesn’t mean we’re that stupid.”
Demmy nodded but still appeared unsure as they drove along into the night.
# # #
Dawn tried to blow a stray strand of hair out of her eyes as she carried a large box out of the Summers’ house towards a rental truck. “This sucks. My Saturday and I’m helping them move out.”
Demmy shrugged as he followed her with an even larger box. “Afterwards you shall have your own room, da? That should make the work worth it.”
“Yeah,” Dawn brightened considerably. “So will you, that will be cool. And you get to start school Monday. I’ll introduce you to all the cool students. With our accents, we’re guaranteed to be popular until we can actually fit in.”
“It will be strange,” Demmy said slowly. “I’ve been mostly taught by tutors.”
“What do you think of California?” Dawn asked as they headed back towards the house.
“Warm, very warm,” Demmy grinned. “Giles and Joyce are very nice, much nicer than most families I’ve lived with. I can almost believe that they do not think of me as a freak.”
“Hey, if they didn’t think of everyone as a freak this wouldn’t be Sunnydale,” Dawn smirked. “I mean seriously, the Slayer is shacking with two girls, both are witches and one a werewolf; Giles is a Watcher; and Xander is married to an ex-demon. You being the only male Slayer isn’t weird at all.”
“I almost feel normal around here,” Demmy admitted. “And you, a sudden family that is strange?”
“A family that is strange or having a family being strange?” Dawn smirked.
“Both, I suppose,” Demmy smiled, picking up another box as Buffy and Tara moved past them with boxes.
“Way too strange on both counts,” Dawn admitted. “Giles and Joyce are kinda cool and I guess the others are alright.”
“Buffy is going to help me train,” Demmy said softly.
“Can I watch sometime?”
“Training yes, slaying no,” Demmy grinned.
“Jerk,” Dawn grumbled. “Buffy won’t let me watch her Slay and Willow and Tara won’t show me any magic.”
“Good, be glad you’re normal,” Demmy urged.
# # #
After a week, Demmy was tired. Everyone had been trying very hard to make him feel welcome and not lonely and the boy was feeling crowded and unaccustomed to so much attention.
He was surprised to trot down the stairs to find Buffy the only one home late that afternoon.
“Hey, Demmy,” Buffy smiled, tossing him a coke. The male Slayer caught it deftly and opened it without foam. “Wanna escape?”
“Escape?” Demmy questioned, obviously confused.
“Come on, out to my jeep,” Buffy grinned.
Demmy kept quiet as Buffy drove along the streets of Sunnydale until they reached the outskirts of town. She pulled over and looked over at the boy.
“You’re a Slayer, right?” she asked but Demmy didn’t sense a challenge in the question.
“I have the strength and some training, yes,” Demmy said cautiously.
“It’s getting dark and it’s two miles back to the house,” Buffy said calmly, reaching into the back seat and pulling a bag into Demmy’s lap. “Take your pick.”
Demmy looked inside, finding stakes, crosses, holy water, a pistol with silver bullets, a small crossbow and a large knife. He looked at the Slayer, confused.
“But I’m not a Slayer,” Demmy protested.
“You’ve got the strength, the training, the senses, and you mentioned that you’ve fought,” Buffy countered.
“Just lab training,” Demmy countered.
“Then call this a field test,” Buffy said firmly.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll fall down blind in the middle of a fight?” Demmy asked bitterly.
“If you do, then you probably wouldn’t survive training with me,” Buffy shrugged. “See you at home and we’ll order pizza and watch DVDs, drives Giles crazy.”
Demmy frowned but took a cross, the knife, and a stake. He got out of the jeep slowly and looked around.
“The fastest way is through the woods and then through a graveyard and then home,” Buffy instructed, tossing him the gun. “It’s a full moon, you might run into weres.”
The Slayer pulled the jeep away, leaving the young man looking at the woods.