Buffy fingered the small orb at her neck. The last orb of Thesulah in existence. It had been hand crafted by Willow herself to house Dawn's soul. And Dawn's soul only. Yet somehow in the depths of Hell Buffy had forgotten that, willing it to take in Dean's battered essence. The orb had relented. She still didn't understand why. Never even questioned it.
She smiled fondly at her shattered past. Life hadn't changed much since Dawn had sealed the gates of Hell forever. She still woke, she still fought the forces of evil. Only now their numbers were visibly shrinking.
Bobby and Giles had started charting their numbers and Buffy had cut swathes through them gladly. Giles kept in near constant contact with Bobby but Buffy didn't know what they really talked about. The word boring came to mind. She never bothered to ask the details. She enjoyed being the brawn, the thinking part of their planning was too much for her lately.
Her cold fingers slid over the orb again. She dared a look down at it. It shone brightly from the inside out, faint green light throbbing with a life of its own.
She swallowed at the sight. Lucifer's gift to Buffy. A piece of Dawnie, forever with her now. When she'd opened that box her heart had been on display. Now it always would be. God Dawn, how I miss you.
The last images of her sister traced before her. A woman, so grown up in the year lost to them, disappearing into the folds of Hell's gates.
A key. Forever turned. She was this worlds savior, and so many beyond this one as well.
Buffy took another turn about the graveyard. The night had crept on slowly but only brought with it one vampire. Vampires, the one plague that continued to be a problem had been turning newbie vamps at an alarming rate lately. The oldest legions, originals who had outlived the tests of time had heard the rumors of what Dawn had done.
Some had fled to Europe hoping the second Hellmouth was still open for business. It wasn't. What Dawn had done was final, and somehow it had extended to every way in or out of Hell. All gates were closed. Only Lucifer himself came and went. Buffy wasn't sure if he would prove to be a problem yet though.
Many vampires started forming teams, joining forces to create small armies. That had made Buffy smile. They feared her. She liked it. How they died was up to them, and apparently they prefered mass murder.
Xander had been working non stop for the past six months on several new weapon designs, most that went boom first and asked questions later.
Somewhere out of the grief of losing both Tara and Dawn he had found his footing. The man that had come out of it all was a version of Xander Buffy couldn't help but admire. He was cold and logical when it came time. He swung into the fight without hesitation now, as if he fought for more than the moment, but a better future. He wasn't as quick with a smile anymore, yet he was still there underneath it all. Buffy knew where to find him when the time came. So did Willow.
Willow heart was under repair. Slowly but surely Giles was coaching her to form stronger bonds with the Earth's magicks. She was learning faster than she cared to admit. Buffy could see how many times she feared her own power, but she'd never admit it. She wanted to be in this fight, for Dawn as much as for Tara.
Buffy couldn't have been happier. She could stand losing a lot, but Xander and Willow were her center. Something so solid you often took it for granted, as if it was the cement beneath your feet and nothing more. But Buffy knew deep down they held her where she was. Without them she'd have fallen long ago.
Buffy's cell buzzed gently in her back pocket. Her eyes narrowed on the missed call. Sam.
He was off on another one of his brother's missions. They were scrubbing the Earth clean of their mess he'd said. He'd guilted Sam time and again to take to the road and follow leads. After awhile Buffy hadn't even fought for him to stay. She understood his need to be with his brother.
If the roles had been reversed she would've ran towards Dawn like the hounds of Hell were on her heels.
Sam had spent the better part of the last four months on the road now. She missed him. Found herself turning to him in the night, her hand reaching for his form on the empty pillow beside her.
Missing him was an unnatural feeling. She hadn't felt this way before. As much as she'd ached for Angel or tormented herself over Riley (whom she was sure now she never truly loved), she'd never quite felt this longing. It was like a piece of her really was missing. And she was beginning to think it was a part she really needed.
Her mind had taken a backseat to most situations lately. Giles had chided her for being absentminded time and again. Leaving the shower running after she'd used it, keeping the backdoor open on several occasions, putting the whole can of soup, metal and all, in the microwave.
That last one had resulted in a tiny house fire Willow had been on hand to snuff out with magick. Buffy's face flamed at the memory. She often felt like she was missing something important. So important she'd wake in the night, afraid she was in the wrong place, wrong time.
By the time reality settled back in it was too late. The feeling had fled. Or maybe she had suppressed it. She didn't know.
All she knew was that she owed this world that clean slate Dean spoke of. She had let that legion of demons flood the skies and call out for victims. All for a chance to reach a sister she'd never really found.
She pocketed her cell. Sam had left a voicemail. He called once a night around this time, always leaving a message for her. She usually saved it to listen to before bedtime. Savoring the sound of his voice. Letting it lull her to a place where worry didn't exist.
She returned the favor in the mornings. That was their game now. It had been weeks since she'd actually spoken to him in real time. A part of her longed desperately for the weight of his kiss, his hard body pressing into her yielding form. Yet the slayer half knew what they were doing was a worthy sacrifice.
She could give up now to have later. She wanted that future Lilith had taunted her with. If all these moments were her penance she'd gladly pay them.
By the time she wound her way home it was well past midnight. The sight of the impala in her driveway made her heart lurch. Sam! He was here.
She tore through the yard, taking the steps at the base in one bound. She erupted into the house like a tornado, all her hopes set to a wind about her.
When her eyes connected to Dean's in the living room it was like old magnets finally coming back together. Even though they hadn't done so in so long, they still knew where to find each other and settle in perfectly.
She hadn't seen him since that day they'd celebarted Dawn's life with a funeral above the school. He had aged greatly, yet it was all in his gaze. The one now rivoted upon her as if she was the only person in the room.
She perceived Xander and Giles lurking behind him in the distance. But she couldn't break the stare he now pinned on her. Because it spoke volumes. It carried with it a grief she'd seen before. One she'd seen on herself as well.
Loss.
Sam was dead.
Suddenly there was a cry. A scream ripped forth from her. She knew it was her, could feel the pain of it in her chest. But she couldn't hear anything. Suddenly Dean's hands were on her and she allowed it in their shared grief.
She shook her head, refusing to believe what she hadn't even heard.
"No." She chanted on repeat, her head following suit again with the word and shaking to and fro.
Dean's grip firmed on her arms but he didn't say a word. Over the chaos of the moment everything was still and quiet. Somewhere beyond the sounds she knew she was making she heard the gentle beep of a reminder voicemail on her cell. Sam!
Instantly Dean was thrown from her, her arms feeling frantic in search for her last shred of hope. She fumbled with the buttons while Dean struggled with his own tears, ones that hadn't been there before.
When a strangers voice came to her over the receiver explaining they had found this phone and her's was the most dialed number so if they knew of how to find the owner please to call them back, her heart deadened.
Buffy's gaze lifted unsteadily to Dean's. "Is this really happening?" she asked, grief coating her tone.
Behind him Giles shuffled nervously, wanting to step into the fray but unsure of what to say.
Dean only shook his head. "Not again."
Buffy stared in confusion. He sounded so resolved, as if he'd sold his soul again already.
"What...w-what happened?" she began. "Where is he?"
"Some place they pretend we can't get to."
"What does that mean!?" Buffy spat.
"It means that we don't have to accept this." Dean moved a step away from her then, as if she would weakened him just being near.
She choked back on the moment that had rushed in on her future and crushed it with one blow. Her future. Didn't she deserve that future she saw? With Sam and their son. It had felt so real. It still felt real.
"Dean." Xander called softly from the edge of the couch. His tone wasn't questioning though, it held a warning.
Dean's head snapped back to where Xander stood, assessing him. "I didn't come back to be talked down. I came back because she means something to us. All of us." His voice held and edge even the new version of Xander didn't dare to touch. Yet Xander's eyes still held a darker quality, one that now clashed with Dean's anger.
"She deserved to know." Dean went on, defending. Always defending.
Buffy's eyes slid to Dean's again. Pain exploded between them. They had a way of sharing emotion that way. Thoughts too. His spoke volumes between them now.
I will get him back for you. His spoke.
How? The gates are closed. No deals are being made. She cantered.
I don't care what it takes. Nothing is ever final. You were the one who taught me that.
With that he was gone. And with it Buffy's last bit of strength. She sank to the ground. Xander was surrounding her then, just as Dean had but she barely felt him. In fact she didn't feel much of anything.
An hour ago she had hope tucked away in her back pocket. Her message from Sam. One more day marching forward through the bad to get to her finish line where Sam was always waiting.
Now he was dead. Dead. She let the word roll around her mind like an unwanted invasion. Her heart spat it out again. Expelling with it anything Dean had said. She hadn't heard how it'd happened. Hadn't seen his body stop breathing. Even then, even then...
They had come back from this sort of thing before. In their world death was just another word. It held no real meaning. It was a choice. One she wouldn't allow him to make without her.
Before she knew it she was brushing off Xander's embrace and tearing off down the road after Dean's car. By the time it rounded the corner she pushed herself faster, willing him to see her in the rearview mirror.
His eyes flickered to the reflective surface. It caught her in it and the impala screeched to a stop. Before she even neared it's end he was in the street with her. Their arms entangled in a wild moment. One born of frustration.
Buffy's chest tightened and before her the fog lifted. As if the state she had been in for so long was now a thing of the past. She clung to Dean like he was a life raft and he the same with her.
To anyone from the outside they must've looked like a couple finally reuniting.
Buffy didn't care how they looked. Dean was her way back to a timeline where Sam existed. Whatever cemented her to Sunnydale would be there when she returned. It always was. In this moment she belonged with Dean, fighting his fight. For it was her fight too.
Where Sam was. Whatever the details. That would come later. Dean thought they could get him back, so Buffy did too now.
By the time they parted several moments had passed. Dean hadn't been first to break their circle, yet Buffy was sure she hadn't either. They'd sifted apart the same way they'd come together. As if meant to.
Time wafted on between them. Her hair catching in his hands as they drew away from one another. He let the blonde strands dance over his fingers before returning them to rest on her shoulders.
The moment should've been awkward but it wasn't. It held promise.
"His body?" Buffy asked lightly, breaking their spell.
"Safe. I didn't bury him."
Buffy nodded. "I need to see him."
They both moved to either side of the impala in unison.
"I can explain on the way." Dean said quietly.
They both paused before they got in, surveying the last moment before an uncertain future. Buffy saw everything of herself reflected back in his eyes. Pain for the present. Fear for the future. Yet a deep-seated trust in each other always.
It was a moment ever warrior needed before battle. One you shared with your brothers in arms. One that said, No matter the outcome, I have no regrets.
And instantly she knew, she didn't. Despite their time apart and all that had pasted between them. She did trust Dean. Had fought by his side, saw how he protected her above himself. How he loved his brother above any other.
He fought the selfish parts of himself, even now. She knew it was an ongoing battle. But one she suddenly had faith he could win.
Even with the beast inside them both they'd fought for a better version of who they were and they both now deserved a chance to be who they'd fought so hard for.
In that moment she welcomed this new page of their future. Sam wasn't gone. In her world, nothing was forever. She'd fight, as she always did. For him, for her, for their son she once saw in a vision long ago.
And when she was done fighting this battle she would fight the next. She'd never give up. And when she had them both in her arms she'd rest. But only when it was safe to do so. Only when the world was rid of every last shadow cast upon them. And even if that moment never came, then she'd resolve to fight forever.
Because someone, somewhere, deserved the happy ending she was fighting for.
Even if it wasn't her.