We're sitting in the basement. Tara and I cast a protective circle using sea salt and white candles. Dawn watched from the steps. The three of us sit in the circle, holding hands. I can feel Dawn's emotions through her tense grip. She's giving off a lot of anger and I know she knows I feel it. She wants me to. But I also feel something else
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Comments 9
I stare in front of me as Willow talks, but can't help smirking. "I don't think she's our responsibility," I say and I'm surprised at how my voice sounds, like, cold. Totally cold. I don't care about Samantha. I don't. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be the Slayer.
"Whatever happened to her before she came here isn't our problem. So I don't see how we're responsible for her." I shrug. Not my problem. Not responsible. I'm not. "And because we had Buffy doesn't make us responsible for her." She's not Buffy. She could never be Buffy.
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I'm shocked at Dawn's uncaring attitude. I squeeze her hand and tug on her arm to get her to look at me. "Do you want to see your friends die, Dawn? Do you want to see Sunnydale fall apart?"
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"I just don't really want to make her our personal little project, okay? We don't owe her anything. She's a lot of trouble." I know that sounds really bad, but what am I supposed to do? The Slayer is supposed to protect people, not be a total head case. Jeez. "I think she should figure out her own deal before she goes acting all big and Slayer-y."
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The answer came to me and I straightened up with new resolve, gripping their hands.
"We need to patrol tonight. And tomorrow night.. and the next night. Until Sam snaps out of it. And we need to keep our eyes on her.. Something is after her. And it isn't the usual big bad. I think it's worse than that..."
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