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Her tears are sweet with just the faintest hint of salt.

Drusilla kisses them away, letting her tongue slowly remove the traces of fear and weakness before Daddy sees them. Her pretty dolly hasn’t learned Daddy’s rules yet so it is up to her to take care of her, to teach her. She bathes her, removing the blood and semen that has dried on skin as pale as porcelain. She washes her hair, brushing auburn locks that spill past delicate shoulders before putting it up with lovely ribbons. She cares for the cuts and bruises that Daddy leaves, knowing he is just too excited about his new pet to remember she can not heal herself, hoping he doesn’t forget one evening and do something she can not heal.

Buffy will find me. I won’t give up.

Words that are repeated in a soft mantra by her favorite dolly, a source of hope even as she slowly begins to break into many pieces. Drusilla is good at puzzles, though. She loves taking the pieces and putting them together once again just as she is with her lovely dolly. Pulling her Willow-doll closer, she looks at the stars, singing softly as rocks her to sleep, letting her have a few moments of peace before Daddy comes for her once again.