The Long Goodbye
Status: WIP
Rating: PG 13
Tissue Warning
Timeline: Season 3 SPN, Many years after Chosen BTVS
Summary: Instead of meeting his demise by hellhounds, Dean is slapped with a terminal disease by the Crossroads Demon.
Disclaimer: All characters and settings are property of their creators. I own nothing.
Ch. 1 Sins of the Father
"Your nose is bleeding."
Dean blinked in surprise as he glanced at Sam's red eyes. His brother had been up most of the night searching endlessly for some way out of the deal.
Dean swiped at his nose and glanced at the smear of blood on his finger.
"Damn," he muttered.
"It's starting," Sam said softly, dropping his eyes.
"No, it's nothing, I still got a good couple months left in me," Dean said dismissively.
Sam sucked in a breath and shook his head.
"We're running out of time Dean and I...I don't know what else to do," Sam replied shakily.
"We'll figure something out," Dean said as he picked up his jacket.
Sam sniffed as Dean grabbed his car keys.
"Where are you off to?"
"There's something I need to take care of."
"Like what?"
Dean swung the motel door open and glanced back at Sam.
"Something I should have done a long time ago," he answered softly.
Sam frowned in bewilderment as Dean walked out the door.
Several hundreds of miles later, Dean wandered up to a small townhouse hugging the outskirts of Ohio. He paused on the walkway, lamenting over his impulsive action. He dug his fingers into the back of his neck as he contemplated whether to continue to the door. After a second, he bounded forward, realizing in a few months nothing would matter anyway. He rapped a few times on the door and after an agonizing minute, he heard the clicks of the bolts.
The door swung open and he was suddenly hypnotized by those familiar hazel eyes looking up at him. He absorbed the dark expression on her face as her eyes sparked with recognition. As the tense silence lingered, Dean cleared his throat and shifted on the porch.
"Uh, hey, Buffy," he acknowledged softly.
Buffy deepened her glare as she folded her arms across her chest.
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
Dean drew a dry smile. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't be happy to see me."
"You have two seconds to answer my question before I knock you in the face."
Despite her absolute livid look, Dean couldn't help but be amused by her threat. He laughed very briefly, very softly.
"Still one fierce little woman, huh?"
Buffy let out an exasperated sigh as she dropped her arms and clenched her fists. Dean soaked in her genuine animosity and quickly veered onto the subject.
"I came here to say...goodbye," he said coarsely. "And I'm sorry for...everything."
Buffy deepened her resentful frown as she planted a foot in the doorway.
"You're sorry, that's all you have to say? You drop out of my life without a word and then three years later you show up here and THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?!"
"You don't have to forgive me, I just wanted to..."
Buffy scoffed loudly.
"You are damn right I don't have to forgive you, I didn't do anything wrong except fall for your stupid charm!" she barked.
Buffy started to swing the door shut when Dean propped his hand out to stop her.
"Just go away Dean," she growled. "And never come back, you should be used to doing that..."
Dean absorbed the intense bitterness in her eyes as she tried to slam the door in his face. He stuck his foot in the doorway and released a deep breath.
"What do you want?" Buffy demanded. "You said what you had to so why are you still here?"
Buffy bit down on her lips to prevent them from quivering, from showing any emotion toward the guy that had upended her life many years ago. Her scowl thickened as Dean hung his hands on his hips and dropped his sights.
Buffy rolled her eyes at his distant attitude as he lingered on the porch. When he finally looked up and met her eyes, Buffy broke out of her frown and drew a curious expression.
"Your nose is bleeding," she said flatly.
Dean bit back his dismay as he swiped at his nose. When he felt more blood streaming out of his nose, he heaved a sigh. Buffy yanked a tissue out of a box on a foyer table and handed it to Dean. He dabbed at the blood for a long second until it ceased.
"You okay?" she asked reluctantly.
Dean sniffed back the blood seeping through his nostrils and nodded.
"Yeah, I'm..."
"Mommy! I'm hungry!"
Dean did a double take when a little boy with blonde hair hanging over his eyes darted through the foyer and clutched Buffy's leg. Buffy shifted out of her frustration, drawing a loving smile at the boy.
"Okay sweetie, I'll make you some lunch in just a sec, mommy just has to...say bye to the...Jehovah's Witness."
The little boy glanced up at Dean and flashed a toothy grin. Dean stared down at the boy with wide eyes of shock.
"You have a kid..."
"Yeah, obviously," Buffy groaned. "Anyway, I have to go now so you should too."
"He's got blood mommy," the little boy said.
Dean swiped at his nose and felt a thicker stream of blood flowing down. He dabbed at the stream with the wadded up tissue as he felt cold beads of sweat springing over his face.
"Is he sick?" the little boy asked as he looked up at Buffy.
Buffy glanced over Dean, seeing the incessant stream of blood flowing from his nose and the sudden outbreak of perspiration.
"No, no, I'm fine, I uh...I'm sorry to bother you," Dean replied.
As he stepped off the porch, his head swirled like a whirlpool. He paused on a step, folding forward and coughing violently for a second. Dean coughed into his fist for several more seconds, blood staining his fingers.
Buffy widened her eyes as her compassionate side kicked in, despite her tainted history with Dean. She edged out the door as Dean continued to cough incessantly. She glanced at the blood spatter on the ground and the dark stream sprinkled over his fist.
"Dean? Do you...do you need me to call an ambulance?"
Dean stumbled forward slightly as the coughing fits overwhelmed him momentarily. After another second, the bellows ceased. He sighed in relief as he slowly straightened.
"No," he reiterated sharply. "I'm okay. I just..."
Dean heaved a sigh as he wiped his bloodied hand across his leg.
"I shouldn't have come here," he muttered.
Dean twisted around and started down the walkway as Buffy observed him curiously. When he stepped off the curb, he abruptly crumbled to the ground. Buffy widened her eyes and bolted down the steps.
"Dean!"
Buffy darted over to Dean, quickly turning back to the little boy.
"Baby, get mommy the phone please!"
The little boy nodded and went into the house. Buffy crouched over Dean and examined him. His nose was bleeding again and his face was still coated in sweat. When he was unresponsive, Buffy felt her nerves tightening. She gently shook Dean until his eyes finally rolled open. He blinked in surprise as he slowly sat up.
"What the hell just happened?"
Buffy shrouded her bewilderment as Dean looked around his environment.
"You tell me," she urged.
The little boy emerged from the house cradling the phone.
"Here you go mommy!"
Dean swept the back of his hand across his nose and brushed the blood away. He stared at the boy as Buffy took the phone.
"Thank you sweetie."
"You call 9-1-1," the little boy said.
Buffy drew a proud smile and rustled the hair on the top of his head.
"That's right," she said.
"Can I have macaroni?"
Buffy widened her smile and nodded.
"You can have whatever you want," she said. "Why don't you go back inside and I'll get your lunch started okay?"
The little boy nodded and ran into the house. Buffy glowed with joy before transitioning back to reluctant concern as Dean got to his feet.
"Tell me what's going on with you," she said bluntly.
Dean shook his head as he pivoted toward his car.
"Nothing," he said. "Just uh...feeling a little off."
Buffy studied him for a moment and then drew skeptical eyes.
"This is more than nothing," she said. "The bloody nose, the bloody cough, the blackout..."
Her throat tightened with dread when her instincts kicked in.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly.
Dean shrugged as he clutched his car keys.
"I told you," he grunted. "It's nothing a little vitamin C and sleep can't take care of...I'm sorry I disrupted your life again..."
Dean turned toward his car when Buffy slapped the crook of his arm and pulled him back. He risked a glance over his shoulder and instantly regretted it when he saw those hazel eyes pooling with moisture.
"You said you came here to say...goodbye," she remarked shakily. "Did you mean..."
"I didn't mean anything by it," he answered dismissively.
Buffy stared at him deeply before her instinct rumbled.
"Tell me the truth Dean," she demanded. "You can't just show up here after all this time, bleeding up a storm and expect me to believe you're fine...tell me what's going on, why you wanted to say goodbye. Tell me!"
Buffy searched his eyes, eyes that had always danced with playfulness and charm that now reflected only darkness and distance.
"Tell me!" she barked.
Buffy clutched him by the arms and glowered at him.
"Tell me!"
Dean looked away from her probing eyes. He should have stayed away but the futility of his life had driven him back into his past regrets. He had been on a roller coaster of carefree excursions with women, booze, food, whatever; it didn't matter because in a short time he would be just be a name etched on a headstone.
"Dean," Buffy growled. "You tell me right now."
Dean stamped his eyes shut and repeated the mantra to himself that nothing mattered now, whether she knew or not, she couldn't help him, no one could. Death awaited him and all he could really do was try and live it out the way he wanted.
"Fine," he surrendered. "I'm dyin'! Alright?"
Buffy let out a high pitched gasp, staggering back a few steps.
"Wh...what?! What do you mean you're dying?"
Dean drew a reluctant frown as the silence lingered in the air.
As her eyes welled with tears, Dean let out a heavy sigh. Seeing her after so many years had broken through every steel reserve in just a short matter of time.
"It's cancer," he confessed.
Buffy frowned suspiciously at Dean.
"Is this some kind of joke to get back into my bed?"
Dean scoffed with deep offense.
"You think I'd joke about dying just to get back with you?"
"I wouldn't put it past you," Buffy said flatly.
"Okay, okay, so maybe it's not unlike me, but now, I wish I was joking," Dean replied dryly.
Buffy stared at him as his face knitted with heavy remorse.
"Oh god," she cried.
Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth and shook her head. After she absorbed the reality, she sniffed back a few lingering tears.
"How...when...are you treating it?"
"There's no treatment, no cure," Dean stated grimly. "I have a couple months. That's why I'm showing up now before things get really bad for me."
"THIS isn't bad? The bloody nose and coughs?"
"Not even near it," Dean said.
As Buffy reeled with the revelation, Dean shaded very briefly with a humbled expression.
"I really am sorry," he admitted. "I don't know if it's worth anything but...I wished things had worked out, I really did...but you had your job, I had mine and...shit happened and I couldn't stay...as much as I wanted to...so, I'm sorry."
Buffy bit down on her quivering lips, expecting Dean to spark with humor or confess to his elaborate, cruel lie, but all she saw on his face was an intense look of guilt. She blinked rapidly, convinced she was dreaming or in a daze but when the look lingered, her heart rumbled with shock.
"He seems like a sweet kid."
Buffy lifted her eyes to see Dean glancing at the house. As he turned his sights to meet hers, he sucked in a deep breath.
"Goodbye Summers," he said softly.
Hearing the defeat in his tone, Buffy bolted off her feet as he drifted toward his car.
"No, Dean, wait, I can help you! I know people! Will! She can do a healing spell, she can take it away."
Suddenly remembering the phone, Buffy fished it out of her pocket and started dialing. Dean shook his head emphatically, gently clapping a hand around her wrist. He hit the END button on the phone as Buffy looked up at him.
"It won't work," he said flatly. "I'll just get slapped with something else. That was part of the deal I made."
"What deal?"
"It doesn't matter."
Buffy stepped in front of him and frowned with resentment.
"It matters to me," Buffy pointed sharply. "You made it matter to me by bleeding on my porch, by dropping a bombshell in my lap and thinking you're going to walk away. You owe me the truth, for once."
After a long silence, Dean let out a breath as he lingered with hesitation.
"I made a deal to save Sam," he confessed. "If I try to get out of it, Sam will die. If I try to heal myself, I'll just get something else. There's no way out. So, I'm just wrapping things up while I still can move around, cause when I said things are gonna get bad, they are. They're gonna get downright nasty, I'm talking the whole hair falling out and barfing blood thing, wasting away to nothing where I can't even get out of bed."
"My god," Buffy cried. "You're just gonna let yourself wither away and die...alone?"
"I got Sam. He's all I need," Dean pointed. "Especially towards the end when I want him to put a bullet in me cause I really don't think I'm gonna let myself get that bad."
Dean drew a bitter frown before drawing the driver side door open.
"Well you um, you...can stay here."
Dean shook his head emphatically.
"No, no way...why would I...why would you want me to?"
Dean beamed his puzzlement as Buffy glanced into her house. She saw her son through the living room window watching TV.
"You can't expect me to just let you walk away when you're gonna be dead in a few months," she reasoned. "If you need somewhere to go, you can...stay here."
Dean caught Buffy throwing a glance to the living room window. He studied her briefly before drawing a highly curious expression.
"So what, now you're not pissed at me anymore? You're willing to take me in because I'm dying?"
"Yeah, I'm the one who has a heart," Buffy said with bitter eyes.
As another tense silence rolled between them, Buffy let out an anxious breath. Dean was about to protest when he was hit with another wave of coughs. After a very long moment, he spat the blood out of his mouth and wiped his bloodied fist on his jacket.
"Look, it's obvious you're in no condition to drive so...why don't you just come in for a little while until...this passes..."
Buffy reached up and tugged Dean by the arm toward the sidewalk.
"As much as I resent the way you just took off without a word, I wouldn't wish a terminal disease on anyone, not even you...so just come inside for a little while."
"Why do I get the feeling you're not gonna let me say no?"
After another moment of hesitation, Dean slowly followed Buffy into the house. Buffy glanced at her son with apologetic eyes.
"I'm sorry that took so long baby, I'll have your yummy macaroni in a bit, okay?"
The little boy nodded, not taking his eyes off the cartoon on TV. Dean drew a small, humorous smile when he saw He-Man and Skeletor battling on the screen. Buffy wandered into the kitchen and swiftly began shuffling through cabinets. Dean shuffled deeper into the living room, eventually folding into an armchair. He glanced at the kid as he sat on the couch, engrossed in the cartoon.
"You like He-Man huh?"
The little boy grinned, turning his eyes away for a moment.
"He has the power!" he roared.
Dean burst with a moment of laughter.
"Yeah, he does. He-Man's awesome."
The little boy darted off the couch and ran over to Dean. He stared up at Dean with bright green eyes.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Dean, I'm a...an old friend of your mom's. What's your name kid?"
"Jack, I'm three. How old are you?"
"Old," Dean said with an amused smile. "You're three huh?"
Jack nodded his shaggy haired head. "I had a birthday. Mommy put Hot Wheels cars on my cake."
"Hot Wheels? Well, that sounds like an awesome birthday cake."
"What you put on your birthday cake?"
Dean drifted into a sullen state, thinking about the future.
"Uh, I don't know, I try not to think that far."
Jack ran over to a bin of toys. He rummaged through it before running back to Dean.
"You can have these for your cake."
Jack set two Hot Wheels cars in Dean's hand and grinned.
"Oh, uh, thanks that's nice of you but uh...I'm not gonna need these...I uh...don't really celebrate birthdays."
"How you get presents then?"
Jack leaned close to Dean, staring up at him with wide eyed innocence.
"Why your nose bleed? Did you fall down and get hurt?"
Dean instinctively checked his nose and felt the dried blood in the corner of his right nostril.
"No, I didn't fall down, sometimes people just get bloody noses."
"Why?"
"Uh...cause they...get into things..."
"What things?"
Dean widened his eyes at the kid's persistent interrogation.
"Uh..."
Buffy poked her head into the living room and swallowed her surprise when Jack was crawling all over Dean.
"Uh Jack sweetie, don't climb all over Dean, he's a guest," she said. "Come into the kitchen and eat."
"I want to eat in here. Please?"
Buffy let out a sigh but smiled.
"As long as you sit still, I don't want to be picking macaroni out of the couch tomorrow."
Buffy retreated into the kitchen and blinked in surprise again when she had picked up a tail. She swung around to see Dean with an immensely curious expression.
"So – Jack...he's three huh? That's interesting..."
Buffy swallowed her anxiety as the day she thought she had been spared had abruptly arrived. She hurriedly scooped the cheesy pasta into a small car shaped bowl.
"Um, he's three and a half," she clarified.
Dean reviewed the math in his head and froze when he drew a sum.
"So you're saying..."
Buffy set the bowl down on the counter and met Dean's wondering eyes.
"I'm saying he's three and a half," she said.
"And..."
"And what?"
"And...that kid is the same age as...you know when...you and me...he likes cars and He-man..."
"Don't all little boys?"
Dean studied the evasive expression on her face and shot her a knowing look.
"Oh, who's not being truthful now?" he posed coarsely.
Buffy heard Jack laughing in the living room. She picked up his bowl and shuffled passed Dean.
"Here ya go baby."
Buffy set the bowl on the coffee table as Jack sat in front of it. After watching him eat for a minute, she reluctantly turned toward Dean who was lingering in the doorway. She brushed by him heading back to the kitchen.
"So is he?"
Buffy swung the fridge door and looked inside to avoid meeting his eyes. She stared blankly into the fridge and heard his approaching footsteps. She chewed apprehensively on her bottom lip as Dean drew closer.
"Buffy, come on, as a man's last dying wish, answer my question."
Buffy blew a breath through her clenched jaw. She had let Dean back into her life and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable subject drifted to the surface. She shut the fridge door and bellowed with a sigh as she managed to meet his eyes.
"I think you already know the answer," she replied softly.
Buffy moved to the sink and began rinsing out a few dishes. Dean rocked back on his heels at the acknowledgement. After a long minute to process the reality, he shifted into a resentful glare.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Buffy shot her eyes over her shoulder at his grating tone. She turned the sink faucet off and returned his glare.
"I tried," she spat softly. "I left you messages but you never returned them. You shut me out of your life. So after awhile, I just gave up trying to contact you. I didn't think it would change things between us, that you'd change...I mean, you knew about me, I knew about you and that week we were together...I started to think things were gonna be different but then...you couldn't leave fast enough when the week was over..."
Feeling the burn rising through her veins, Buffy whipped her back to Dean as a few tears shed from her eyes.
"I hated you for a long time Dean, but once Jack was born, I couldn't dwell on our history because I had him to take care of, someone who was solely dependent on me. So I moved on and I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you that he was yours, or that you'd care if you did find out because...you didn't seem to care about me..."
Buffy dropped her sights to the ground and sniffled very softly. Hearing his footsteps echoing on the floor, Buffy inhaled a shaky breath, brushing the tears from her eyes. She slowly turned around as Dean posed before her with a doleful look.
"I told you how I felt," he grunted.
"And you still left," Buffy shot spitefully.
Dean heaved a sigh as Jack's laughter echoed into the kitchen.
"I had to," Dean explained. "I had some family stuff...and that stuff spun beyond my control and...it left me here...I wish I could have come back...I wish I would have called you back...I wish a lot of things but at this point, none of it matters. What's done is done..."
Buffy moved back to the sink and ran a paper towel under the water. Dean blinked in surprise when Buffy approached him with the damp towel and began dabbing at the new stream of blood flowing from his nose.
"How...how long do you have?"
Buffy bit down on her shaking lips, fighting back the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes as she tended to Dean's bloody nose.
"How long is a 'couple' of months Dean?"
Dean gently gripped her wrist when the anguished tone in her voice speared through his heart.
"I didn't mean to shake up your life again."
Dean stared off at the living room longingly as Jack bellowed with endearing laughter. He clenched his jaw as the fury of his reality blazed through him of all he had to sacrifice over the course of his life for the sake of pleasing his father.
"It's not fair – it's not fair that I'm finding out about this now, finding out about him when I won't even be here to see his next birthday or Christmas," he muttered softly.
Buffy shook her head as tears thickened in the walls of her throat. She clutched Dean by the hand as her face darkened with compassion and agony.
"Then don't go," she cried. "You came here to say goodbye...so say it...stay here, with me and Jack...and let us take care of you...whatever happened between us, it doesn't matter anymore...you may have left without a word but you left me with something else too..."
Buffy glanced off at the living room for a moment, her eyes glistening with emotion.
"He is the greatest kid in the whole world," she said. "And I'm not just saying that because he's mine. He really is amazing and...I want you to get to know him...to see the great kid we made...if I can't heal you...let me at least give you this...a chance to be with your son...our son...because I don't want you to die thinking you didn't accomplish anything or doubting yourself or wondering if what you did made any difference in the world...so just stay..."
Buffy let the tears flow freely as she waited expectantly for Dean to answer...