DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters of Supernatural, or the song "In The Darkness." Oh, and also, the first line of this story came from my best friend, who said (I think as a joke) that that's how I should start the fic. So I did.

Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester of "Supernatural" and Willow Rosenburg, Xander Harris, and Buffy Summers of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"

Setting: Any time during the second season of "Supernatural" and just after the beginning of "Buffy's" seventh season

Warnings: Limp!Sam (literally) and slight language


Ex Cinis Cineris

Demons come from every side,

(In the darkness is the light.)

Pulling me on a downward slide,

(In the darkness is the light.)

Getting hot the deeper I go,

(In the darkness is the light.)

Into the darkness down below.

(In the darkness is the light.)

The pie was round.

Dean Winchester stared fixedly at the thing as he waited for his check, and debated ordering one to go. He hadn't had anything dessert-y in a really long time…and if he'd ever needed sugar more than he did right now, he didn't remember that time. Besides, Sammy really liked pie…and that was lemon meringue, Sam's favorite…

"That'll be four seventy-three, sir."

Dean snapped out of his haze. "Oh…yeah…" he murmured. He dropped a twenty on the counter in front of his waitress, shook his head when she started to pull his change from the register, turned his back on the pie, and walked silently out of the diner.

XXX

Sam was still stretched out in the backseat when Dean reached the car. As soon as he climbed in and shut the door behind him, Dean reached back and lifted Sam's arm, his finger going automatically to his brother's pulse. The beat was as steady and regular as it had been when he'd gone in, and Dean sighed—whether in relief or dejection he didn't know—as he dropped Sam's hand and turned to start the car. Music blared through the speakers, almost shaking the whole car, but Sam didn't so much as flinch in his sleep.

The '67 Impala sounded almost angry as it roared out of the parking lot.

XXX

+Flashback+

Sam had been mad since they'd left the biker bar, and from his quick, choppy motions as he changed into the clean shirt he would wear to bed, that hadn't changed with the two hours he'd spent enclosed in the car with the source of his irritation.

Dean couldn't see what the big deal was, himself. So they'd had to leave the tiny hamlet two hours behind them a tad earlier than expected, with a gang of twenty-some bikers on their bumper. And okay, so maybe there was a slight possibility that it was all Dean's fault. But they'd gotten away clean, with their three hundred bucks in hustling money, and they haven't even had to leave their stuff in some crap motel room, since it had been in the trunk and all. Hell, they didn't even have any blood to contend with!

All in all, it had been one of their better—and certainly more dramatic—getaways, but Sam didn't seem to be able to appreciate that. In fact, he seemed decidedly unhappy by the situation, and Dean just couldn't figure it out.

Hey, maybe that was what Sam had been screaming about while they sped out of that parking lot…maybe he'd been trying to explain exactly what his problem was…

Well, that was certainly a novel idea.

"Hey, Sammy—"

"Shut up," Sam snapped, dropping his bag in the corner and throwing himself on the bed.

"Aw, c'mon, Sam, don't be like that—"

Sam sat up and threw a glare angry enough to actually quiet the older Winchester. "Dean, you almost got us killed tonight!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, take it to Broadway, you drama queen. It wasn't that bad—"

He knew he'd said exactly the wrong thing when Sam, who had been halfway back down, suddenly sat straight up again. "Not that bad?" he asked incredulously. "They had knives, Dean."

"So do we."

"They were throwing the knives."

"Okay, good point, but—"

"And there were chains and brass knuckles and I think at one point I saw a pair of freakin' mountain climbing hooks…"

"I got it, Sam, they were dangerous," Dean snapped, losing his own temper. "But we've dealt with dangerous before. You know, it's that thing I like to call our job? Besides, we got away without even a scratch on any of us, so…"

"Not the point, Dean!"

"Well, then what is your point, Sasquatch?"

Sam was about to speak again when a soft, cold voice cut his reply off before it was fully formed.

"My, my, you could slice the tension in here…maybe you wouldn't even need the knife."

Dean moved without thinking, turning toward the voice and moving to stand in front of Sam at the same time.

The demon smiled at them, a smile devoid of any of the human emotion that a smile would normally indicate. It had the form of a young man, but the eyes were jet black and empty.

Dean breathed a small inward sigh of relief—at least they weren't dealing with the yellow-eyed bastard. That much was at least a very small comfort.

"What do you want?" Dean snapped, his voice laden with false bravado, his mind racing, trying to find a solution to this mess.

The demon simply smiled pleasantly at him and didn't answer. Dean was about to repeat the question when Sam spoke up for the first time. His voice was strangled and hoarse, with none of the anger of moments before, and Dean felt a thrill of alarm at the fear there even before Sam finished saying the horrible words.

"Me. It wants me, Dean."

+End Flashback+

XXX

Dean dragged himself back into the present resolutely, glancing in the rearview mirror as he did. He'd found himself doing that a lot, and suddenly he didn't have the energy to pretend he'd been doing it for any other reason than to make sure his brother was still with him.

He turned his eyes back to the road after a moment of staring at Sam's chest, rising and falling evenly with each slow, weak breath, and once he had focused and saw the marker in front of him, he nearly choked on his relief.

You are now entering Sunnydale, California.

I live my life in one straight line,

The future ahead and the past behind.

Don't wanna go back to yesterday,
But I don't know how long I can run this way.

Sunnydale hadn't changed over the last months since Dean had been here. It was still tiny, still boring as it had been before. Dean was a little surprised by that—somehow, he'd expected the place to be different now. He kept expecting everything to be different now…

He could remember clearly the last time he'd been here—Sam had been in trouble that time, too. It seemed Sam was always in trouble nowadays. Damn kid… Dean though fondly, glancing back at Sam again.

He wondered if they'd be surprised to see him. He couldn't see how they'd know he was coming, but then Willow and Tara had certainly surprised him before, with that whole "good witch" thing they seemed to have going. He also wondered if Buffy still hated him…man, she was hot…

Dean chuckled bitterly at his own thoughts, and the way they seemed to be flying in all directions at once. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought he had a concussion or something. But he hadn't had any knocks on the head recently, and the truth was, the only thing wrong with Dean was that he was completely thrown by these events, and he had no idea of how to right himself.

And he was scared.

But Willow and Tara would help. Willow and Tara had to help, because they were pretty much his last hope. He'd already been to Bobby and to Missouri, and neither of them had a clue. So if the two witches couldn't help him, then that was that. Sam was lost.

So, yeah, Willow and Tara would help, because if they didn't Dean might very well shoot them both.

Dean's thoughts did not become any less black as he drove through the streets of Sunnydale, automatically heading to Buffy's house. At least, he assumed that Buffy lived there still. He couldn't see why she'd move, or where she'd move to, for that matter…

Oh, my God, what if she's moved?

What if they'd all moved? What if they'd all had one of their crazy group flip-outs and left Sunnydale entirely?

What if, what if, what if?

XXX

There was no car in the driveway, and for the life of him Dean couldn't remember if there had been one before. With great trepidation, he pulled to a stop and shut the car off. He glanced back at Sam, whose state still had not changed, and then reluctantly decided to leave him in the car for a minute. He'd had a hard enough time getting him into the backseat in the first place, after all.

Still, he couldn't help feeling that if he turned is back, that demon would return to finish the job.

Resolutely, Dean slammed the car door behind him, and didn't look back as he went up to the porch and rang the bell.

He didn't have to wait for long, which was a good thing, because in the mood he was in he may just have kicked the door in or opened fire on the house if Willow herself hadn't answered the door within about five seconds.

She screeched, which was pretty much what Dean had expected, and threw her arms around him, squeezing the breath out of him.

"Oh, my God, Dean, what are you doing here?! When did you get here? How did you get here? Why didn't you call? You promised you'd call. It's still great to see you, though. How are you?"

The rush of questions halted just when Dean was ready to gag her, and Willow looked around with a frown. "Where's Sam?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, about that…" He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her, and he knew how lost he must look.

"I need your help."

A jungle hung with tangled vines.

(In the darkness is the light.)

I'm tangled up in my own vines.

(In the darkness is the light.)

A creature there in the darkness lies.

(In the darkness is the light.)

Why is it that he has my eyes?

(In the darkness is the light.)

+Flashback+

"No. No way. Not gonna happen," Dean said firmly, dropping back a little and letting a hand fall on his brother's shoulder. Sam was tense and stiff as a board, and his entire body quivered. Dean's heart wrenched painfully, and he squeezed Sam's shoulder, hard. He didn't try to avoid the contact when Sam's hand shot up to lock around his wrist—he just let Sam hold on while he glared at the demon, who was looking serious now as it appraised him.

"That's nice," it commented. "The way you protect him like that."

"Glad you approve," Dean replied sourly.

"Of course, it makes no sense," the demon continued matter-of-factly. "I could easily strike you dead where you stand and take him, anyway. Maybe I will, I simply don't know yet."

Dean decided, when he felt Sam's breathing hitch and then begin to quicken, and heard the quickly-bitten-back cry, that enough was enough. He dropped his hand from Sam's shoulder and lunged, intending to wrap his hands around the thing's neck and snap it like a twig before filling it with lead and salt and silver and who gave a damn if that wasn't supposed to work anyway?

He didn't realize he was pinned to the wall until he heard Sam scream his name, his voice filled with such terror that it tore at Dean and made him hurt almost physically.

"Oh, not to worry, Sammy," the demon said smoothly, leaning against the wall and folding its arms. "I still haven't decided, so he's safe for the moment, if a tad uncomfortable. I know you humans tend to worry about that," it added lightly, as if Sam's fear had not been apparent to anyone who heard him not ten seconds ago. "Burning people on ceilings isn't my style, anyway. Too…callous," it said distastefully, and suddenly Dean understood a little better.

Rivals…an enemy of the yellow-eyed demon.

But still. What did Sam have to do with that?

"Oh, that's a very simple question to answer," the demon said, and Dean jumped when he realized it was answering the question he hadn't spoken. "So simple, in fact, that I believe you can figure it out yourself, if I tell you the only thing you may not be aware of."

It paused, and its eyes fixed on Sam, who couldn't seem to move, though he wasn't pinned by anything at all except his own fear.

"You are a very powerful psychic, Sam. Maybe you could even be the most powerful psychic. And as such, you are very important to my brother—I believe you know him as just 'the yellow-eyed demon.' Yes, you are very important to him, and to the little vendetta that he calls the war. And as such…well, as such, you are very important for my plan."

It looked at Dean, and in its blank eyes the eldest Winchester read the answer.

Oh…oh, God…

"No…no, don't you touch him!" Dean yelled, the words tearing pass the paralysis in his throat. The demon looked surprised at his words, and Sam still didn't understand, because he looked at Dean with puzzlement mixing with the fear. Then, quite suddenly, the demon seemed to get

bored, and it headed for Sam and Dean screamed

"SAMMY!"

And then the demon reached out and placed a hand on the top of Sam's head.

Sam went rigid. His back arched, and his mouth opened in a scream that only came out as silence. That was okay, though, because Dean was raising Cain enough for both of them, screaming and swearing and straining against his invisible bonds.

He had no idea how long it lasted, but finally the demon dropped its hand, Sam went limp, and Dean felt the first tear he'd cried since John's death fall from his eye. He barely registered the moment when he was released—he just scrambled for Sam's bed, falling over himself and generally looking like an idiot and not caring at all.

The demon watched silently as Dean lifted his brother into his lap, checking desperately for a pulse.

He hadn't expected to find anything, and when he did—when he absorbed the slow, faint beat against his fingertips—he could only curl himself over Sam's body and shake for several minutes.

"Relax, Dean, I didn't kill him," the demon said calmly. "I'm not that stupid. I know how many demons and humans would be after me had I actually killed him, and so I didn't. But you won't be seeing him again, either. At least, not the way he was." The demon sighed, and looked almost sad. "It's a shame, really. He had such potential." The smile, when it came, was sudden and stunning in its evil. "Still, it's all in the game, I suppose. And now I have the knight."

And then it was gone, leaving a broken family in its wake.

+End Flashback+

"That was four days ago. Since then I've been to a psychic and an all-around supernatural expert, and then I came here," Dean finished, swallowing the last of his coffee and putting it on the end table, keeping one hand on Sam's leg as he did.

"…Wow," Xander said from where he leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He'd been the one to help get Sam inside and onto the couch, and Dean had never been more grateful to anyone than he was to Alexander Harris at this moment. "That's…wow."

"Quite a pickle you're in, isn't it?" Buffy asked.

Dean would have glared at her, but he didn't feel as if he had the strength. Instead, he simply said tiredly, "A little bit, yeah."

"And…what do you want us to do to help you out?"

"I don't want you to do anything at all," Dean replied coolly. "I want Willow to do something witchy and bring him out of this. Now where's Tara?"

Dean knew that he'd said something wrong as soon as the words left his mouth, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what.

"We lost Tara," Willow told him softly. "A couple of months ago. She was…shot."

"Oh…oh, I'm…sorry," Dean said awkwardly, and she smiled wanly.

"That's…well, not okay, but I'm…we're…dealing. But that does mean you've only got me. And that…isn't much, nowadays."

"Wait…does that mean…"

Willow smiled. "Yes. I'll help you. Of course I'll help you."

Buffy spoke up then. "Uh… Willow, I don't think—"

"Buffy, relax. It's not any big magic. Or it shouldn't be. Things like this tend to be mainly about returning the body to its natural state, so it shouldn't be much of a fight," Willow said, already getting up and going over to crouch next to the couch, near Sam's head. She reached out and put a hand on Dean's knee, smiling reassuringly at him. "I'm just going to see if I can figure out what's up here, okay?"

Dean nodded wordlessly, and Willow squeezed his knee and let go of him, placing both hands on Sam's chest.

Dean had learned the first time he'd come here not to expect much in the way of fireworks from Willow-spells, and so he wasn't too surprised when Willow simply sat there for a few minutes before dropping her hand and opening her eyes.

She was frowning and when she spoke, she sounded puzzled.

"I don't…understand. I can't find him."

"…Eh?" Dean asked, with an edge of panic in his voice.

"His…soul. His memories. His mind. His power. Everything that makes Sam…him. It isn't in there."

Before Dean could pass out, though, Willow went on.

"I can feel him, though. His thoughts…they're all clamoring for help, somewhere nearby. But not from inside him. There's something blocking him from his body, but I just…I can't pinpoint him." She smiled at Dean then, though a little nervously. "So it looks like I'm gonna have to find him and get him back for you."

"What?" Buffy and Xander said at once.

"Willow, no," Buffy added. "You can't. You know what could happen—"

"Yeah, remember last time? Xander all bleedy and Willow all depressed?" Xander asked. Then, for Dean's benefit, he added, "Long story. It starts with Tara and ends with Evil Willow trying to unleash Armageddon. And now there's a chance that it could happen again if she uses any big magic. And this—"

"Just got big," Buffy added. "I'm sorry, Dean, but…no. I can't let that happen again."

"Yes, you can," Willow said quietly, and they all looked at her. "I'm going to do this," the redhead continued. "And you're going to help."

I've lived my life in one straight line,

The future ahead and the past behind.

Now I've hit a wall like I never knew,

And they tell me that the only way out is through.

"Okay, so let's go over this again," Buffy said, halting her slow pace around the room and turning to look at Willow. "You want to do an extremely powerful spell that will send you into whatever netherworld Sam's in right now, and that will probably pack enough punch to make you all…black again."

"Yes."

"Then you want to knock down whatever wall is blocking Sam—which will probably involve a battle with that demon who did this to him in the first place."

"Yep."

"And that will probably force you to use more magic and more punch."

"That's how it works."

"And you want Xander to be your…"

"Catalyst. Yes."

"And that means…what, exactly?"

"Well, hopefully, it means he'll keep me grounded enough that I remember why going bad is…well, bad. He'll join me in the Netherworld, but not in the fight to get Sam back. Instead, he'll be fighting the evil in me---to keep the balance."

"But…I don't understand. Why is it so important that it's Xander?" Buffy asked. "I mean, I'm the Slayer. Doesn't that mean I'm supposed to be the one to do this kind of thing?"

"Well, normally, yes, but…well, I've never actually done this, obviously, but I've read up on it, and the whole thing basically depends on the strength of the bond…the memories I have with my catalyst. Xander's already been a catalyst before—in a different way, but the point is, he already knows how, if only subconsciously. He knows how to use the memories, how to throw them at me, how to remind me of who I really am. And…well…"

"His friendship is the only thing that came through the first time." Buffy sighed, and dropped her crossed arms to her sides. "Yeah. I know. I just…hate feeling powerless, and it looks like I'm going to be exactly that tonight."

Dean actually managed a smile for her. "Hey, I don't like it much either. Especially since my little brother's life depends on this. But hey, we can use the time for a nice, friendly sparring match, eh? Verbal or physical, I'm not picky."

He was surprised when Buffy actually returned his smile.

But her smile was pretty. No arguments about that.

"Okay, it's the catalyst's turn to speak now," Xander said. "'Cause I'm…uh…a little nervous about this. Wil, what exactly is going to happen?"

Willow smiled sympathetically. "Honestly, Xander? I have no idea. All I know is that when I do this spell, you'll come along for the ride. Your senses will be heightened and our connection will be stronger, so you'll be able to tell when I need some Good Willow knocked into me."

"Yeah, but what will I do about it?"

Willow shrugged. "Well, supposedly you'll just…know."

Xander groaned. "I never liked vague spells, ya know."

"I know, sweetie. And you don't have to do this—I'll understand."

Xander studied Willow's earnest face for a moment, then sighed. "Let's just…get this over with before I lose my nerve."

XXX

Dean waited until he was sure that Willow and Xander were deep in the throes of the spell before he said anything. He watched as the two of them moved Sam carefully to the floor, and then sat cross-legged on either side of him, joining hands over him. Willow closed her eyes, and Xander followed suit.

And then the room became utterly still.

Dean sighed. "So now we wait?"

Buffy returned the sigh. "Yep. Now we wait."

The silence went on for another few moments, and then Buffy shook her head and reached for the end-table drawer, pulling something out.

"Okay. Five-card draw," she said, holding up her bounty.

Dean felt a half-smile cross his face. "Oh, you're on, Slayer."

XXX

"Okay. Well. This is…nice and…gray," Willow commented, looking around. "Xand—oh." Willow heaved a sigh as she turned to find herself alone. "Okay, so apparently he literally won't be joining in the fight. At all."

Shaking her head, Willow forced that thought from her mind, along with the worry that maybe Xander would have trouble with this after all, and closed her eyes.

It didn't take much concentration for her to find Sam, because his thoughts were everywhere, screaming and pushing into her mind.

Help…help me…please…

This was the easy part. Willow reached for a small thread of her power and "tossed" it so that it connected to "Sam." Once they were joined, she opened her eyes, and allowed the connection to pull her toward Sam.

XXX

Xander was…confused, to say the least. He seemed to be quite alone in this endless gray expanse. And, okay, so Willow had said he wouldn't be at her side, but she did say he'd be "along for the ride," so what was the game here?

And how the hell was he supposed to take care of Willow now?

"It's okay, Xander."

Xander jumped. "Hey! God, Willow, ever heard of knocking or something? You know I hate it when you do that!"

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Just…listen to me for a second, okay?"

"O-okay."

"Okay, so I guess you've figured out that we're not gonna be together for this. Right?"

"Well…yeah…"

"Well, apparently that's the way it's supposed to be. You're not supposed to be with me."

"Okay, then how am I supposed to help you…stay grounded, or whatever?"

"Ah, now that's the easy part. As far as I can tell, you're already connected to me. Here, let me show you. Close your eyes for a sec."

Xander did.

"Now just…feel for me."

"Wha…how?"

"C'mon, Xander, we're kinda crunched for time here! Just…think hard, and separate me from you."

As she said it, Xander felt impatient. But in a weird, distant sort of way, like it wasn't him who was feeling it at all. He concentrated on the feeling, followed it to its source…

"Okay, found ya."

"Good. Now just…concentrate on me. Don't lose the connection or you'll have to start all over, and I have to focus on finding Sam so that Dean doesn't…ya know…kill me."

And then Willow fell abruptly silent, and Xander was left alone, to wait.

XXX

Help me…please, help…

The calls were getting weaker, more desperate, and Willow felt her anxiety increasing as she hurried toward them. If there was any doubt before, there wasn't now—Sam was in serious danger here, and maybe in pain.

"Oh, no, don't be so dramatic, young human, I'm not hurting him."

Willow was too well-practiced in matters like these to jump, but that didn't mean she wasn't startled. She whirled, looking for the source, but…

"That's useless, dear—you won't find me," the voice said, its tone layered with amusement, and it was only then that Willow noticed that the sound seemed to be coming from everywhere. So, feeling rather ridiculous, she spoke to the general direction of up.

"Who are you?"

When the voice didn't answer, Willow licked her lips and tried again.

"Are you the demon who took Sam away?"

"Can you think of anyone else I could be?"

"So you…you know why I've come."

"Of course I do."

"And…is there any chance at all that you'll just let me…you know…take him back?"

A feeling of great amusement was her only reply, and she sighed. "Well, had to give it a shot, I guess. Okay, then…bring it on," Willow said to the sky, trying hard to keep the trepidation from her voice as she reached deep into the well of her power and prepared to fight for Sam's life.

And somewhere very nearby, the cries for help continued.

XXX

As it turned out, it didn't matter that Xander wasn't actually with Willow, because as it happened he could feel everything the felt, anyway, and so had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

He didn't worry until he felt Willow getting nervous, and then a little scared. " Willow?" he called uncertainly.

She didn't answer.

"Wil, you all right?"

Silence, within his head and without.

" Willow, if you can hear me, say something."

Determination. Anger. Power.

Darkness, with a name stamped on it in red letters.

Willow.

Well, that explained why she wouldn't answer.

"Okay…okay, that's okay. I can…fix this," Xander murmured. "I'm going to make this…better…" With a deep breath, Xander pushed any fear he may have felt away, filled his mind instead with images of Redheaded Willow—not Goth Willow—and sat down on the misty, swirly "ground."

He picked the strongest memory he could find in his arsenal, pulled it to the forefront of his mind, armed himself, and prepared to fight an invisible opponent that he hadn't ever wanted to hurt in the first place.

XXX

Dean and Buffy were on their third game when Willow's hair began to darken.

"Um…is that…normal?" Dean asked, a little nervously.

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, it's normal, but it's also bad. It means she's…turning."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Buffy shook her head. "No. This is Xander's thing."

"Think he can handle it?"

Buffy was silent for a moment. "…Let's get back to our game."

XXX

Willow could feel the power rolling through her, filling her. She was a depthless well, a conduit through which the magic moved, endlessly existent and unimaginably strong. All the magic in the world was at her fingertips, and she had control over every last ounce of it.

"Okay…okay, that's okay. I can…fix this. I'm going to…make this better…"

The voice forced its way past the darkness growing inside and into her head, carrying with it…something. Love…light…danger.

Xander.

The darkness inside Willow reacted automatically—and violently—to the danger. It halted the clash with the other dark power—why was she fighting that, anyway? It had what she wanted…it would be her friend, her ally. Not like Xander, who was of the light, and weak. Xander would never—could never—help her achieve her goals…

But this demon could.

Smiling now, Willow turned her focus from her enemy to her best friend.

XXX

Xander could feel Willow slipping away from him, little by little.

He was losing her.

Just like last time.

But…no. Just…no. It would not go that far.

Not this time.

Grimly, Xander gritted his teeth, pulled up another memory, and hung on to the thread of good that still remained within Willow. His goal, his focus, his whole world was now narrowed to that thread, on forcing it to grow, to expand, to fill Willow and the world and push the darkness back…

So intent was he on keeping his best friend with him that Xander didn't notice the thin, bloody lines beginning to appear as the skin on his face, his arms, opened up at the hands of the same woman he was trying to save.

XXX

Buffy and Dean were on their fifth game when the scratches began to appear, and that was when they gave up the pretense of playing at all.

"She's hurting him," Buffy said quietly, speaking as if to herself. Dean snuck a glance at her, and saw that her face was white, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Another line appeared on Xander's cheek, and he grunted, turning his head swiftly to the side. But he did not release Willow's hands, and Dean knew that their connection, however tremulous, was nevertheless holding.

He reached out and put a hand on Buffy's shoulder as she made as if to leap forward. "Don't," he hissed. "If you pull them apart now, it's over. We lose them all."

He was surprised when she listened.

He was less surprised when she turned in his hold and gave him a black eye.

After all, wasn't that just like all the hot blondes he'd been dealing with lately?

He returned the punch—an eye for an eye, after all, and she was the Slayer.

Her face didn't bruise as much or as quickly, but it definitely darkened, and he was satisfied.

As one, Slayer and hunter turned to watch the show.

XXX

"Come on, Willow, stop it!"

Willow threw another bolt, furious now, but the voice didn't go away. She'd long since stopped being entertained by this whole business, and now she just wanted Xander to go away. His light was beginning to hurt her inside, and she did not like to be hurt—to be vulnerable.

" Willow, I get it. You want me to go away. You want me to leave you alone. You want me to stop. Well, it's not gonna happen. I'm not going anywhere. I'm either coming out of this with you or not at all."

"But why?" Willow couldn't stop the question, though she told herself she didn't care.

"Because you're my best friend, Wil, and I love you. Just like last time. Remember?"

She did, and she didn't want to.

"No."

"Yes, you do. And you remember how it feels. I won't lose you, Willow, even if you want to be lost. Understand?"

Willow felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she brushed it away angrily. "Go away, Xander."

"No. You wanted me to do this. You wanted me to protect you. Well, now I'm here, ad I'm staying. As long as you do. I love you, Wil."

"Don't call me that," Willow whispered, the tears falling fast now. "Just…go. I'll…I'll kill you."

She felt his genuine amusement. "Once more with feelin', honey, 'cause you're…a little unconvincing."

Willow was crying hard now, and the bolt she'd been forming disappeared abruptly.

Xander's voice gentled. "Come on, Wil. Just…remember why you came here in the first place. Do what you came to do, and then come back with me."

The Xander-light grew to almost unbearable levels, but suddenly…it didn't hurt quite so badly.

"I love you, Willow."

"D-don't say that, Xander," Willow whispered, but this time for another reason entirely. "I…I can't go back. Not yet."

"Yes, you can. You don't need this to beat that demon. You've got me."

And Willow believed him.

She felt the demon's overwhelming anger at her desertion, and for a moment she faltered in the face of its strength. But she also felt Xander's relief, and that was more important. She allowed the last of her dark power to drain away, and prepared to meet the demon armed with only the strength of her own mind and the strength that Xander gave her.

It came easier, now.

Sam's cries had fallen silent.

XXX

Sam was getting paler.

Dean watched worriedly, his gaze flicking from Sam to Xander to Willow. He was sorely tempted to go check Sam's pulse again, but he had no idea what going near them would do to the spell, and he wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize Sam.

Still, despite this state of mind, born of love and fear and instincts cultivated by two decades of training and rules and protect Sammy, always, always, always—despite this, Dean felt himself reaching a breaking point, and he might have gone to Sam's side regardless if things hadn't started happening right then.

Once the ball started rolling, it rolled fast. First, Willow started crying. Then her hair began to lighten, turning from black to brown to auburn to red, and her hands clutched tight over Xander's, who returned the grip with equal strength.

And then Sam screamed.

It was like a replay of The Night, with Sam arching his back and clutching at the ground, fingers scrabbling for a purchase that didn't exist, and the scream going on and on and on…

But then Willow let go of Xander and they both fell back with twin gasps, and Sam was still screaming as his eyes flew open and he shot up, his hands flying and Dean's name on his lips.

Dean went into action at the same time Buffy did, leaping to Sam's side and grabbing a flailing hand as the blonde headed for Willow.

Sam didn't even seem to see him—he was whimpering now, and Dean felt his throat close with his relief.

"Christ, Sam…" he murmured, pulling at Sam's hand until the younger man was gathered to his chest. He slid his arms around Sam, held him close and tight and ignored Sam's squashed protest because damn it, if he was going to shove all the rules aside and hug his brother than he was damn well going to do it right.

Gradually, Sam's whimpers died to soft crying, and then to silence, until he was just leaning into Dean's chest, limp and still and so alive that Dean began to cry right along with him.

But just a little, you understand.

They say the truth will set me free—yeah.

(In the darkness is the light.)

Free to be down here on my knees—yeah.

(In the darkness is the light.)

But just when I thought I lost my sight,

(In the darkness is the light.)

Catch a glimpse of that beautiful light.

(In the darkness is the light.)

"So I was seriously out for four days?" Sam asked, lounging against the arm of the couch, holding a pillow against his chest, his long legs thrown over Dean's lap.

Dean leaned back, pillowing his head on his arms, and shrugged. "Four and a half if you count the Rip Van Winkle impression you've been pulling on the couch for the last ten hours.'

"Yeah, and I don't get that," Sam said, shifting a little and yawning again. "I mean, why am I so tired?"

"Magic. It'll get you every time."

Both brothers looked to the doorway, and Sam said, "Oh, hey, Willow. How are you feeling?"

She smiled wanly and sat down in the armchair, resting her hands on her thighs and shrugging. "Okay, I guess. Not wanting to kill my friends, or anything. What about you? Did Dean catch you up?"

"Yeah, I'm just…processing," Sam replied. "Thanks for everything, Willow. More than you know."

Willow smiled. "Well, I'm not gonna say 'No problem,' but I will tell you I was glad to do it."

"How's Xander?" Dean asked.

"He's…a little freaked out. This is the second time he's pulled me back from the edge, you know. But…he'll be okay. We'll be okay." She sounded relieved, and the Winchesters could suddenly tell exactly how worried she'd been over that.

"So are you guys taking off today?" Willow asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Dean shrugged. "Ask Sammy. He's the one who insisted we stay this long."

"I didn't—"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Your snoring said it all, kiddo."

Sam glared at him as he replied to Willow. "Yeah, Willow, I think we're probably gonna go this afternoon. It's already killing Dean being here this long without hunting anything."

Willow grinned. "Yeah, Sunnydale isn't exactly tourist stop number one these days."

"Was it ever?" Dean asked.

Willow chuckled. "Touché. Okay, I'm gonna let you two get some rest. I'll bring you some lunch later."

"But wait—we're not tired…we're fine…" Sam protested in vain to her disappearing back.

Dean laughed. "Don't argue with her, Sammy, redheads have tempers and that one has magic to boot."

Sam smiled, his eyes already closing. "Well, I guess we're…stuck then…"

Dean returned the smile as Sam's eyelids completed their downward journey, and when he was absolutely certain that Sam was out again, he reached out and smoothed the hair back from Sam's forehead.

"I'm glad you're here, little brother."

XXX

Dean slammed the Impala's trunk with a feeling of finality, and turned back to the house, where Sam, Willow, Xander and Buffy stood on the porch, saying their goodbyes.

Dean grinned as he got close enough to hear what Sam was saying.

"Thanks again, guys. You have no idea, seriously."

"Oh, I think they're getting a general idea, considering that you've been thanking them for, like, six hours," Dean said, slinging an arm companionably around Sam's shoulders as he came up.

Sam grinned at him even as he shrugged off the arm with a muttered, "Don't touch me."

"We're all packed up," Dean continued, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And I dunno about you, Sammy, but I'm ready to see the back of this place."

"Well, keep calling me Sammy and maybe I'll decide I'm just too tired to go anywhere today."

"You do and I'll give you a real reason not to get up," Dean threatened, and Sam laughed.

"Well, you heard the man," he said to the others. "We'd better go."

Willow reached out to give him another hug, and kissed his cheek. "You better keep in touch this time, boys. I mean it."

"Yes, ma'am, we will. And tha—"

"I swear, Sam, if you finish that phrase I can't be held responsible for what I do," Dean cut him off. "C'mon, get in the car."

He waited until Sam was safely turned around and heading for the car before he mouthed the word "Thanks" to Willow and Xander, winked at Buffy, and turned to follow his little brother.

"So are you ready for this?" he asked Sam once they were both in the car.

Sam smiled at him—a genuine grin. "Let's go to work."

And so they did.

XXX

An Hour Later

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Did Willow kill that demon?"

"…I don't know, Sam."

"What? You mean it could still be alive?"

"I doubt it, but it's a possibility, I guess."

"But…shouldn't we…?"

"No."

"But…"

"No."

"But what if…?"

"No."

"Dean!"

"Look, Sam, forget it. I'm not going to put you in that kind of danger again, okay?"

"But Dean…"

"Shut up, Sam."

XXX

Half an Hour Later

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"When I woke up back there…were you…crying?"

"…No."

"Really? Because I coulda sworn…"

"Nope. Must've been confused."

"You sure?"

"I don't cry, Sam."

"I know, but…"

"Do you want me to turn the car around and leave you at Buffy's, Sam?"

"Uh…no…"

"Then shut up and go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired right now."

"Then just do the first part."

"But…"

"Sam."

"Fine."

XXX

Fifteen Minutes Later

"Dean?"

"Oh, my God, what, Sam?!"

"What the hell happened to your eye?"

"Oh…that…erm…things got a little…tense…while that spell was going on."

"Whaddya mean by that?"

"Well…me and Buffy were just stuck sitting there, just…waiting…and it…it got on our nerves."

"Wait…she hit you?"

"Uh…yeah."

"And did you hit her back?"

"…Yeah."

"But…she doesn't have a mark on her…"

"…Shut up."

XXX

"Sam?" Baby brother?

"Hmm?" Yeah, big bro?

"Don't do that again, okay?" You scared me half to death.

"Like I have so much control over it." I was scared, too.

"Just…don't, okay?" Please, if it happens again, I won't be able to handle it.

"I knew it. I knew you were scared for me." I know. I'm sorry.

"Never said I wasn't." I don't want you to be sorry, I want you to be okay.

"Yeah, but you never admitted you were, either. Until now, anyways." I will be okay, thanks to you.

"Shut up." Don't ever leave me.

"Aww, don't be like that! It's okay to admit it!" Not if I can help it.

"I swear I will make you comatose again." I love you.

"Fine, fine, I'll be quiet. But you've given yourself away, and shutting me up won't change that." I love you, too.

More than anything.

In the darkness is the light.

Surrender will win the fight.

This guy's walked on fire and ice,

But I come out on the other side of paradise.

Paradise


Author's Note: Wow. That ended up being…a lot longer than I'd planned. Sorry about that, folks! I hope you enjoyed it, though. And…well, I have nothing to add.

Oh, except one thing. I have a note for one reviewer. I normally don't respond to anonymous reviews except in multi-chapter stories—though I do appreciate them, a lot, seriously—this reviewer seemed to be a little worried in a review she sent me. At least, that's the message I got.

To Linda:

hugs you Thank you sooooo much for the kind reviews! I just had to respond to one—I couldn't help it! But the e-mail address you sent in your review didn't work, so I had to resort to this.

I'm so glad you like my work. I have to say, I never expect those kinds of responses, because I have authors on MY favorites lists whose work I can only hope to aspire to.

Well, anyways, on your last point. I promise, promise, PROMISE that I won't stop writing. I love getting reviews--it makes me feel better than you can probably imagine--but like I said in my note, I don't write for them. I write for me, so as long as I continue to love it--and I don't see THAT ending anytime soon--I will continue to write. I promise!!!

It just might be a little...slow...especially if I pick up Jodi again. I can't help myself though!!! You should totally read her books, if you haven't. You'd get what I mean if you did.

Thanks again, so much!

-Adara-chan