End of Day

Summary: At the end of the day, the person Dawn needed most was Sam. Just Sam. At the end of the day, it didn't matter what Buffy thought. Sam and she would make it work.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Supernatural belongs to…well, a lot of people that are not me.

Dawn Summers couldn't sleep. She kept seeing today's raid of that vampire nest again and again in her head. She could feel their breathe creeping over her skin as they backed her into the wall. She could still hear Buffy and Sam's screams of her name; she could still see Dean hacking away to get to her as they pressed her against the wall. She could still feel the warm splash of blood as Sam shot the vampire that was leaning in toward her neck. And, worst of all, she could still hear the sound of Sam's ribs cracking and his shout.

She vaulted from bed, unable to stand it any longer. She knew Buffy wasn't supposed to know, but-hell-it was about time she found out. Dean knew. Bobby even knew. Sam and Dawn had been carrying on a relationship for four months. Nearly a month after they met, Sam and she had found something between them. That something had developed into a relationship.

Buffy would be angry. Not because she wanted Sam for herself, but because she was afraid of her sister going through the same things she had gone through with Riley. It was dangerous for two hunters to fall in love; it was dangerous because something always tore you apart. Buffy would say that she thought Dawn had learned that lesson by watching Buffy's relationship fall apart, but Dawn wasn't going to let that happen. Not to her and Sam. She wasn't Buffy; and Sam wasn't Riley.

If Buffy would get her head far enough out of her ass, she would see that Dean wasn't like Riley either. Riley wouldn't fight for her when it really counted; Dean would. Dean did, but Buffy wasn't budging. Dawn sighed as she slipped out into the hall. 'I hope she wakes up before she loses him.' She thought ruefully as she padded to the door adjacent theirs.

She creaked the door open slowly and slipped inside the room. Daintily, she tiptoed across the floor and into the bedroom. Her feet were silent across the carpet. She past the first bed and moved to the other one. The other one held the one she came to see. Samuel Winchester. She knew that he probably was awake. Awake and waiting for her. She heard the covers shifting and a sleepy voice croak out: "Dawn?" She smothered the noise that threatened to burst free from her throat. She slipped onto the bed beside him and curled up against his uninjured side. She heard his quiet chuckle. "Does your sister know you're gone?" She shook her head as she tucked her head against his neck.

"No," she muttered; her lips brushed against his bare skin. He gave a small shiver and pulled her closer. Her hands slipped underneath his shirt to rest against his chest. He felt her grimace at the bandage across his ribs. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't," he replied quietly as he pressed his lips to her hair. "It's not your fault."

"You're right," she added, nodding a little, "if you hadn't been so gung-ho on protecting me, it wouldn't have happened." Irritation seeped into her tone; she really tried not to be. She knew she had been in a really bad situation, but damn it! She needed Sam with her. She didn't need him getting hurt because he was too busy shooting something closer to her than guarding his own flank. That's what had happened today. Idly, she slid her hand down to the bandage. Gently, she ran her fingers over the edges of the wrapping. 'Broken ribs,' she thought sadly. 'Two broken ribs.' Sam sighed and tried not to get distracted by her touch.

"You were surrounded, Dawn," he sounded just as indignant now as he had when she had been patching him up earlier, "I wasn't about to let those bloodsuckers take a chunk out of you."

"And that's sweet," she reassured him, "but I don't want you to get hurt because you're worried about me."

"You're my girlfriend," he stated passionately; his eyes burned into hers. They spoke the words they had yet to say aloud to each other. "I'm going to worry," he breathed as he ran a hand down the part of her arm that wasn't tugged comfortably underneath his shirt. His touch left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "Besides," he trailed his fingers up and down her arm as he spoke, "you would do the same for me and don't say you wouldn't."

"You both are hypocrites," a grumpy growl interrupted their conversation. Both Dawn and Sam looked toward the occupied bed to see Dean partially rolled over, glaring at them. "Now, shut up and go to sleep." His head thunked back onto the pillow. Sam and Dawn looked at one another; she let out a small giggle. Sam smiled. Dawn lowered herself back down. One hand rested on his chest; the other was underneath her, propping her up so that she could look down at her boyfriend's face. Sam's expressive eyes looked up at her with so much love and warmth that it took her breathe away.

"Just…promise me we'll have each other's backs," Dawn begged in a quiet voice despite Dean's command.

"I promise," he swore as he twirled a finger into a strand of her long hair. Dawn smiled, reassured by his promise. He tugged gently at the lock. She hummed, quietly getting the message. She propelled herself up and down so that she could meet his lips. Just as Sam's hand moved from that lock of hair to slide into the locks at the back of her head, Dean let out an aggravated groan.

"Screw it! You two can have the room! I'm going to crash with your sister," Dean grumbled as he roughly threw the cover off of himself and stomped—still in boxers—out of the door. Dawn laughed against Sam's lips while he smirked. Buffy would be in for one hell of a surprise in the morning.

"What should we do with ourselves now, Miss. Summers?" He asked as she gave him a little bit of space. Dawn grinned cheekily.

"Oh…I can think of a few things…" She teased as she slid her hands up underneath his shirt again. Her nails trailed horizontally over the line of his boxers. He shivered and pulled her down to his lips again.

"Hmmm…enlighten me…" He muttered before their lips connected.