Fiction APP Secretive Partial Truths

Title: Accidental Pen Pals

Chapter Title: Secretive Partial Truths

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Dark Angel. They belong respectively to Whedon & Mutant Enemy and to Cameron/ Eglee. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Humor

Pairing: Dawn/ Joshua (as friends)

Summary: All she asked for was a little help on a school project... but this IS Dawn we're talking about here.

Spoilers/ Time line: This is Season 7 for BtVS and Season 2 for Dark Angel. But things have been skewed for BtVS so that the show fits into the Dark Angel format of Post-Pulse.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is a response to the Pen Pals Challenge. For challenge details, please see the first chapter.

Accidental Pen Pals

Chapter Five

Secretive Partial Truths

Joshua sat as the darkening shadows lengthened. He gave no thought to needing a light on. The illumination from the street lamps that worked sporadically up and down the lane were enough. When there wasn't that, whatever moonlight filtered through the curtains would be fine.

He wasn't sure what this was in his chest. It felt... heavy. Not like when Father had left. That had been ache all over his body, mostly his head. This was different. He knew that what he had read had caused the problem. He just didn't know how to identify the choking sensation that rose in his throat, the pain that had his shoulders hunched. The trembling in his knees.

He wondered why the words that Dawn had written had affected him so badly. He didn't know. Would never have known...

“Joshua?”

He heard the slight panic in Max's voice as she entered the house. She was probably startled that he had not turned on the lights. Probably afraid he had left the house to see the upstairs people. But Joshua knew better.

He had heeded Max's warnings. Over and over, he had listened and he had stayed.

She had come into the living room now. “Joshua? What's wrong?” Her voice had softened once she had found him and her fears were wrong.

Joshua barely turned his head as she came to kneel at his feet, her hand moving to smooth his slightly matted hair. “Not feel good,” he whispered.

“Uh oh,” she murmured as her hand quickly moved to his forehead. But Joshua jerked away slightly.

“Not there,” he fretted and lifted one hand to hold, closed in a fist, to his chest. “Here.”

“Your heart?” she asked worriedly, setting back on her heels slightly. Joshua nodded slowly and then lifted the second letter from his lap.

“Cassie died,” he told her simply. He could see the puzzlement on her face as her eyes dropped down to the papers that had creased and crumpled where his hand gripped it.

“Who's Cassie?” she asked, though her voice was a little faint.

“Read,” he instructed simply. With an inquisitive tilt to her head, Max took the proffered letter and moved to turn on the lamp that was closest. Joshua flinched a little under the harsh, sudden glare and Max made an apologetic noise in her throat. She returned to the sofa and took a seat close to him. With one hand rubbing a soothing circle on his back, she quickly skimmed over the letter from Dawn.

Dear Joshua, (she read)

I don't know why I am writing this as a letter to you. I would write in my diary, but I don't keep those anymore, ever since I found out the truth of who I really am. I remember once that a counselor told us that it helped to write things out. Maybe I just need to make some sort of sense of everything that's happened.

My sister asked me to help her with a project at school. I was happy to help. I don't get to help her much and she has to do so much. There's a burden on her shoulders that always pierces my heart to think about. I don't know how she does it. She tries so hard to be strong. Strong like Mom. I wish I could be strong for her but the best we can do is lean on each other. But I think we're going to topple over.

She wanted me to be friends with a girl she was worried about. Cassie Newton. I knew who she was. When everybody at school thinks you're a freak, you end up knowing really fast who the other freaks are too. Some times we band together. Sometimes we just avoid each other so that the other kids don't make even more fun of us. Cassie was in one of my classes, but I never talked to her.

But I used that as an excuse to talk to her. I asked her about the homework in the class and she was so nice. She was funny and beautiful and she cared about her friends. She didn't have a good home life. Her parents are divorced and her dad drinks too much. Buffy was worried that he might hurt her. I've seen what drinking too much can do. Car accidents, parents hurting their children. Xander thinks that I don't know, but even children can figure it out when it happens all the time.

Cassie wrote poetry, like I wrote in my diaries. It was real. It was graphic. Some of it was dark, but some of it was beautiful. Growing up beautiful. Hard to watch but worth it in the end. Like a butterfly struggling out of its cocoon.

She knew that she was going to die. She knew for a long time but she didn't know how or why or even

I was going to write that she didn't know when. But she did. At first Buffy thought that she meant she had plans to kill herself. But she told her over and over that she didn't. And so we watched her. I thought it was just a job. A way to help my sister. But it was more than that. Cassie became my friend. She made my life brighter, being in it. So much darkness and fear and doubt and she made me smile.

Buffy found out that a group of boys wanted to kill her. I don't know what for. They wanted something and they thought they could get away with killing her. They said that she was just some goth emo chick that no one would miss. That everyone would think she'd jumped in the river to drown or something.

But I miss her. I miss everyone. How can I miss someone so much when she was in my life for such a short time? How could she affect me that much?

Buffy saved her. She stopped those boys from killing Cassie twice. One boy had a knife. Another had rigged a crossbow to shoot anyone that tried to come into the place they were going to hurt her in. The library, I think. Bad things always happen in the library. But Buffy stopped them. She always stops them.

And then, just when Buffy thought that she had done her job, that she had helped another person...

Cassie's heart stopped and she died right in front of my sister. Buffy couldn't help her this time. I hate fate and I hate destiny. It takes everyone away. But if everything is going to happen no matter what, then was it fate that made her my friend? Do we ever make choices because we make them or does fate just want it that way? Why do we have friends if they're just going to leave us in the end, one way or another?

Buffy is going to go talk to Cassie's mom again. In person this time, instead of over the phone. Willow is to stay here with me and Xander is on his way. Buffy told me that the principal said that Cassie's mom said that their family had a history of heart problems. She never told Cassie. She didn't tell the school either, or Buffy would have known. But somehow Cassie knew. She knew she would die. In a different way that everyone knows that. She knew all the things she would never get to do. A way that she would never live. All the things she would never experience.

I want to do these things for her. To honor her. To remember her. But I'm scared. To go out into that world is scary. It's dangerous. There are so many bad things out there. Not just health problems. Like people with guns. My sister was shot last year. Tara was shot and she died. My mom died. So many people my sister tried to help but couldn't save. Car accidents. I was in one that Willow caused. It hurt and I was so scared. But somehow it's different right now. I look back on these things and remember the hurt and the pain. It seems... faded, sometimes distant, sometimes like it was happening to another person.

I wi...

I don't even dare write that.

Buffy is home now and calling for me to come down stairs now. She says she doesn't want me to be alone right now. I think she is remembering how it was after Mom died. I was in such a bad place. We both were. I think I will go down. I need her to lean on me, because I really need to lean on her too.

The letter ended there and it fluttered out of Max's hand as the soothing rub stilled. And then both of her arms were wrapped around his torso as she hugged herself close to him.

“Oh Joshua,” she cried out softly. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!”

“It hurts,” he moaned quietly. “Why does it hurt Max?”

“Because Dawn is your friend,” she answered immediately. “It always hurts when your friends are in pain. Even if you don't know each other face to face.” She carefully collected the letter and moved it out of the way as she scooted back slightly and turned on the sofa to face him, cupping his cheek. “Dawn's pain is very evident, but...” she sighed, her shoulders drooping. “I don't think that she meant that to be a real letter yo you Joshua. She wrote that she didn't keep a diary anymore and that's what it sounded like she was doing. I wonder...”

“Not important,” Joshua decided and Max went still. He continued slowly. “Not matter if she meant to. I know now. Need to help.”

“Of course you do,” Max sighed, but she sounded relieved to his ears. She hugged him once more. “You have such a great... empathy in you,” she murmured softly. And then drew in a deep breath. “Okay, Dawn needs her friends and family to help her through this, obviously. Anytime anyone dies, it's...” she broke off and winced and Joshua knew that she must be thinking off her own losses, such as he had the first time he had read the letter. Max had been out in the world so much longer than he. He wondered, not vaguely and not for the first time, how many horrors his little friend, maybe either of them, Max and Dawn, had seen. Different to be sure than what happened at Manticore. But he knew enough of life that the world wasn't always bright and beautiful and a surprise around every corner. Sometimes it was dark and moonless, with no idea where to go, who to trust, how to survive.

“It hurts,” he stated simply again and Max nodded slowly.

“Well,” she murmured. “How about we have a little something to eat and if you'd like, we can write back to Dawn.”

“Max write too?” Joshua wondered. Max swallowed heavily. And then smiled sadly.

“I don't know if I can,” she whispered brokenly and then seemed to rally slightly. “But if I can't, I think any words you use would be beautiful. Because they'll come from your heart.”

Joshua nodded. And felt an easing in his chest at last. When she rose and held out her hand to him, he took it and followed after her.

*****

“Where is it?” Dawn murmured as she flipped through the admittedly small pile of papers that had littered her desk in her bedroom. Her face twisted slightly as she tried to remember that night, without crying again. She had been upset, that was a given, she had been sitting on her bed, waiting for Buffy to return. The silence had been...

She straightened up and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. Better not to think of that. But her bed was a clue. She moved over to the wide piece of furniture and perched on the edge, reaching to open the bed side nightstand drawer. She rifled through the the assorted junk accumulated there. Aha!

She had found the notepad that had the letter to Joshua that she had started recently. She flipped through the notepad, but to her horror, the other letter wasn't there. She blinked owlishly at the notepad and then set it aside to keep digging. There was little other paper there and she was careful to unfold every bit and scrap, but the letter, not really a letter, was not present. With a sigh, she picked up the notepad that contained the letter she had started and shutting the drawer, carried it downstairs.

She had just gotten into a comfortable perch on the sofa when she noticed that Willow was setting up her laptop at the table. The two girls exchanged glances and while Willow booted up her computer and was waiting for it to get through the start up procedure, the redhead approached the doorway to the living room.

“Hey Dawnie,” she smiled, still a little unsure of herself in the aftermath of everything that had happened since her return from England. “I just made a pitcher of iced tea. Can I tempt you with some sugary lemony yummy?”

“That'd be good,” Dawn smiled up at her friend. Willow, while dealing with the darkness that she had found within herself and the aftermath of destruction she had wrought, was still pretty much the same person and Dawn found herself reacting to that quite a bit. But she still couldn't forget. There was a lot that Dawn couldn't forget.

She turned her attention back to the sheet of paper that she had started scribbling on a few days ago. There were plenty of things crossed out as she had to censor herself sometimes, trying to read about her teen aged adventures as an outsider would, not as someone well ensconced in the Scooby gang might. She had worried sometime that even vague references might bring up some questions. So this was actually just a first draft letter to her new friend.

“Here you go sweetie,” Willow offered, as she held out a tall glass of refreshment to the teen. “What're you working on?”

Dawn accepted the drink and took a small swallow, finding the level of sweet just to her liking. Which was about three times the amount of anyone else in the house. “A letter to Joshua,” she explained easily.

“Another one?” Willow smiled. “Already?”

“What do you mean?” Dawn's suspico-meter went up. “I haven't written to him- oh!” Realization landed immediately over her missing letter that wasn't a letter. “Someone mailed it!” she half shrieked. “Did you mail that Willow?” she demanded suddenly.

“Mail... what?” Willow looked confused and upset and... well confused. She shook her head. “You mean the letter you left on the table the other morning?” Her fingers began to wring around the glass she still held.

“It wasn't a letter,” Dawn gasped, sitting straight up, unmindful of her own drink until it splashed several droplets on her pants leg. “I mean, it was... but I never meant...”

“Oh. I'm so sorry Dawnie,” Willow frowned, setting herself down immediately on the coffee table before the teen. “I- I saw it, on the table. And it was addressed... And I-I thought that you were just... just in too much of a hurry... I'm sorry. Was it not...?”

“Okay,” Dawn squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, it was an accident right?”

“I'm sure it was,” Willow winced. “But, um, if it wasn't a letter, why, um...”

Dawn's shoulder's sagged as she regarded Willow miserably. “I wrote it, um... about Cassie,” she whispered. “But I never meant to send it.”

“Oh Dawnie,” Willow sympathized immediately, setting her glass down and reaching to encircle the girl in her arms. “I'm so sorry. I saw it and there was an envelope there. I just thought I'd save you the time.”

“No,” Dawn shook her head. “No, it's my fault. I was going to throw it out, but...” And then she stiffened in her friends arms. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no! Buffy's going to kill me!”

“Oh, I don't think she'd get upset about...” and then realization struck Willow too. “Oh Dawn, what did you write?” Dawn was already wincing and shrinking back as the redheaded witch let her loose to search her face. Dawn was immediately shaking her head.

“I don't remember!” she wailed.

“Okay,” Willow sighed out, standing to pace around the living room floor. “Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad. I mean, did you put anything in there about... anything?”

“I don't know,” Dawn sniffled out. “I mean, I was upset. I was just rambling. Like, like I was writing in my d-diary or something.” Willow's shoulder's sagged and she paused momentarily.

“Okay, m-maybe your friend will um, I mean, he's pretty young right?” she asked hopefully. “Maybe he won't understand and be so confused that he'll just like... throw it out or something.”

“I don't think he's that young,” Dawn snorted, rising as well. “But maybe, I mean, it was pretty obvious I was upset. Maybe, maybe he'll just think that it's all crap or something. Oh god, how am I going to fix this?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Willow gasped out, “it'll get lost in the mail. I mean, that happens all the time.”

“Yeah,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “That only happens in movies and when you really need something to show up on time. I don't think I'd be that lucky Willow. We do live on a hellmouth, remember.” She dragged one hand over her face. “When did you mail it?”

“Um, a couple days ago,” Willow winced. They both sagged then. After long moments, Willow sucked in a huge gulp of air. “I don't think there's anything we can do Dawnie,” she whispered. “Maybe, you should um, you should probably write to Joshua and uh, tell him...”

“I'll just,” Dawn winced as she dropped back down tot eh sofa. “I think I'll just have to tell him, uh, I was on medication!” she declared suddenly. “I was so upset about Cassie,” she winced again, because that was certainly the truth, “and I took some cold medicine to help me sleep and it made me all loopy or something.”

“Well,” Willow hedged. “Or maybe, you could just tell him the truth. That you were so upset that things just came out that you weren't even aware of. That probably didn't make any sense to him and probably wouldn't to you now that you're through some of the... the grief. And that the letter wasn't supposed to be mailed, but I messed that up.”

“Or... okay,” Dawn sighed as she processed what Willow had said. It was a very believable explanation, rooted very much in the truth. “That would work too, I suppose.” She reached for her notepad again and scrapped the letter that she had been planning. She crumpled the sheet and tossed it onto the coffee table. She chewed at her lower lip again and held the pen poised over the paper. She shuddered a little and Willow, quick to be supportive as she could, dropped down next to her and wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders.

“Don't worry Dawnie,” she soothed. “I'm sure your friend will understand.”

“It's not that,” Dawn whimpered, clutching the pen with both hands. She pulled her head up to glance at the redhead. “It's just... who's going to tell Buffy?”

Chapter Six- A Little Out Of My Mind