The Song Remains the Same
Chapter 2
Buffy blinked. Her head ached, and a new trail of blood wet her tongue. She spit, but the saliva stayed in her mouth, the blood floating around her dry tongue. Above her, something sparked, raining crackling light on the damp floor underneath her. Voices echoed in the darkness, and the broken light of two flashlights waved over her face. She tried to sit up, but the room spun on an axis, sending her reeling backward again.
"There was a fight here." Buffy heard one of them say. She reached out and up, looking for something to grab on to and heave herself up. The first thing she caught was a pant leg. With all the strength she could muster, Buffy grabbed on and pulled.
"Between who--whoa!" A man yelped, buckling under the new weight at his ankle. He came crashing down, smacking his backside on the hard concrete floor.
"Sam!" The husky-voiced man yelled, turning to push his fist down into whatever had disrupted his brother. The flashlight pointed down, filling Buffy's face with a sudden light. She blinked and managed to raise a hand over her face.
"Do you mind? I already have a pounding headache." She choked, managing to finally spit out the blood and spit in her mouth. It drooled down her lip and she brushed it away with her hand. Gross.
"Who the hell are you?" The man on the floor asked, his eyes wide. "Wow, are you okay?"
"I'm Buffy Summers," she grunted. "And I recognize you."
"Who?" The husky one frowned, still shining his light on her.
"You. Tell me, is that really your voice or are you trying to compensate for something?"
"Uh," Dean mumbled.
"It's really his voice. Ever since he hit puberty, he's sounded like that. I'm Sam."
"Dude! Sam! She could be a demon!"
"Every demon in town already knows us, Dean. Besides, that looks like one of those angel warding things." Sam pointed to the wall with his flashlight, illuminating a massive drawing in blood.
"Look, I don't know how I got here or what happened or why I feel like I've been hit by a truck, but if we can find that Castiel guy, I think he might know." Buffy pushed herself up, wobbling a little on her feet. Sam grabbed her arm and they stood up together, slowly but surely righting themselves. In the lowered light of Dean's flashlight, Sam made out a massive gash on the side of Buffy's head. Blood had caked into her hair and on her face.
"So, what, Cas was fighting angels?" Sam asked as the three of them approached the sign on the wall. The two men looked to Buffy, but she only shook her head. The last thing she remembered was Dean's dream, fishing on a lake. Dean turned slowly around, murmuring "I don't know."
"Sam," Dean blinked, rushing across the room. Buffy hobbled along behind him with Sam taking up the rear. In the middle of the room, on a broken shelf, Castiel lay on his back, prone and unconscious.
"Cas!" Dean grunted, shaking his shoulders so he rolled around limply. The man sat up, pushing Dean's hands away. He looked even wearier than before, his sleepless eyes baggy and purple, his coat bunched up and wrinkled.
"Castiel," the man said, in a voice so clearly not belonging to Castiel that Buffy stared at him. "He's…he's gone. I'm not Castiel."
"Well, where is he?" Dean demanded, holding the man by an arm.
"I don't…I don't know. But I'm not him. I'm…Jimmy."
"Jimmy?" Buffy croaked, holding a hand against her head where it started to throb.
"Dean, we need to get out of here. This girl isn't looking so good." Sam seemed to be supporting her more and more, as though she'd collapse if he wasn't watching.
"Fine," Dean muttered. "Jimmy, you're coming with us. Whatever went down, we can't stay here."
Buffy sank down onto the edge of the bed, holding the butt of her hand against her temple. Thoughts buzzed around her brain without making a lot of sense. Only thirty minutes before, maybe less, she'd been standing in her apartment after six rounds with the vampire brigade. Now she was sitting in an ill lit hotel room with three complete strangers. The tallest one, a gangly boy about Dawn's age, knelt down beside her, a warm wash rag in his hand. The hotel door opened and Dean walked in, carrying three bags of greasy take-out. At once disgusted and starving, Buffy held out a hand for a hamburger. Dean dug one out of the bag and pressed it into her hand. He set another bag down in front of Jimmy, starvation as plain as day on his face.
"Okay, one more time," Dean grumbled, pulling out his own burger and unwrapping it. Sam pressed the compress against Buffy's head and she winced. "You are…"
"Buffy. Summers. I'm the Slayer."
"The Slayer," Sam frowned.
"Yes. Slayer comma the. You guys claim to hunt demons and you've never heard of me. That's… well, I guess the ol' retirement idea really worked."
"And Castiel brought you here."
"He said something about an apocalypse. Told me we were visiting another champion. And then I was in this dream, your dream. You were fishing."
"Cas showed up, gave me a note," Dean frowned.
"And the next thing you know, you're waking up in a pile of rubble?" Sam blinked, clarifying the end of the story.
"Pretty much. You forgot the migraine from Hell part."
"Whatever came after you, it got you pretty good. You're going to need stitches."
"Don't worry about it, I heal pretty fast." Buffy shrugged.
"And you?" Dean asked, turning around to look at Jimmy. "Dude, you wanna slow down? You're gonna give me angina."
"I'm hungry," Jimmy mumbled through his food. He was finishing his second hamburger. Sam looked up from where he threaded a needle with dental floss.
"When's the last time you ate?"
"Look," Buffy muttered, getting up. She steadied herself on Sam's shoulder and walked to the small dinette table at the edge of the room. "You brought me all the way down here to…wherever it is we are. And you said you had something to tell Grunty over here. So I'm assuming you had some sort of big plan…"
"Not me," Jimmy frowned. "Castiel. I'm just…a guy."
"A guy." Buffy repeated sourly.
"I'm Jimmy…Jimmy Novak. I'm from Pontiac, Illinois. I have a daughter, a wife." Jimmy closed his eyes and sighed. He could see their faces, remember them. It seemed like he hadn't seen them in months.
"That's great, Jimmy, but why am I here? Don't you remember anything?"
"No," Jimmy shrugged.
"Great. That's great." Buffy looked at Dean, beside her. His face was as flummoxed as her own. Sam nodded his head toward the door. Buffy walked out of it. Dean raised his eyebrows and followed while Sam took up the rear.
"We'll be…hang tight, Jimmy."
"What do you want to do with him?" Sam asked, his brows creasing together with worry.
"Buy him a bus ticket, send him home. He has a family." Dean replied matter-of-factly.
"No, I'm sorry but no. He has to know why I'm here, why Castiel brought me to you two. Last night, I was fighting vampires in Brooklyn, and then I lose a day and wake up in a warehouse with you two and a guy that used to be touched by an angel."
"I think she's right, Dean. What if he knows something?"
"He said he doesn't. What do you want me to do, beat it out of him?"
"I'm just saying, Dean," Sam sighed. "Hey, maybe we can take him to Bobby's. We could hypnotize him, maybe. It's possible he doesn't know that he knows anything."
"Who's Bobby?" Buffy asked, confused.
"A friend," Dean answered. "Man, don't you remember when our job was helping people? Trying to get them back to their families?"
"I'm just trying to be realistic, Dean. If we want to figure him out, I bet the demons do too. We should figure out what he knows before they do, don't you think?"
"Ah, hell," Dean sighed.
The three of them walked back inside. Jimmy looked up from his seat at the table. Buffy sank down into the chair beside him, feeling a little woozy. In her pocket, her cellular beeped again. Boy, would she have a story to tell the Scoobies when she got back home.
"You can't go home," Sam sighed.
"What do you mean I can't go home? What am I, your prisoner?"
"You're in danger, Jimmy."
"What? From who?"
"Demons," Dean admitted, staring at the floor like a guilty child.
"But I don't know anything!" Jimmy yelled, getting up from the table. He kept shaking his head, as though trying to push out all the memories of Castiel. "Look, I'm done with it all, okay? I'm done with the demons, the angels, the body aches, the healing, and the crazy travel. Castiel left and I'm out. No more. I'm leaving."
Buffy crossed the room, faster than she thought she could walk. She grabbed Jimmy by the arm and turned him around. He was taller than her, only by a few inches. It never bothered her before, and it sure as hell wouldn't now.
"You're not leaving. You'll put your family in danger if you go out there. Do you want that? We can all pretend that we're out of the game, retired, whatever. The truth is, we can't ever get our lives back, okay? So just sit tight until we figure out what you actually know."
Sam kept watch on the "prisoner" while Buffy, Dean, and Jimmy went to sleep. Buffy eyed the two available beds. Dean stood behind her, his eyes heavy with sleep.
"Take mine," he mumbled. "I'll sleep on the floor."
"I don't mind the floor," Buffy replied thoughtfully.
"Look, I insist, okay? Just take the bed. How's your head doing?" He tilted his face, looking at the stitching Sam had performed on the cut. It was already looking a bit better, not so bruised. "Wow, you do heal fast."
"Perks of the job," Buffy sighed. "One of the very few."
"I hear ya," he nodded. Dean grabbed the blanket from the bed and a pillow from the closet. He sank down into the armchair in the back of the room and put his feet up on the arm. Buffy crawled under the remaining blanket and leaned back into the pillow. Nearby, Jimmy reluctantly slipped beneath his own covers. Sam hovered apprehensively near the door.
"Buffy, Dean, wake up!" Sam yelled, throwing his arms around.
"Five more minutes," Dean groaned in a sleepy daze.
"Shuttup Dawnie," Buffy murmured in her dreams.
"Get UP!" Sam yelled. "He's gone! Jimmy's gone!"
"You were keeping watch," Buffy mumbled, sitting up slowly. Her head pounded anew, though the wound was mostly healed. "What'd he do, kick you in the knee and run?"
"Hehe, gave you the slip, didn't he?" Dean chuckled from the back of the room. He stretched like a cat.
"I went to get a Coke," Sam muttered through clenched teeth.
"Was it a refreshing Coke?" Dean laughed.
"Hilarity ensues," Buffy sighed. "I feel like I'm in an Abbott and Costello movie."
Buffy sank into the passenger seat of the Impala, while Sam shoved their belongings into the trunk and wiggled into the backseat. Dean fumbled with the stereo. It was a nice vehicle as far as vehicles went. Buffy had spent most of her life in the Pedestrian Club, and her limited knowledge of things on wheels was just that--limited. Still, if this were a different place, a place where she wasn't dazed and confused and following the tail of a previously possessed financial analyst, she might have admired Dean Winchester driving along, listening to the Top 40 hits of 1970. The husky voice and lukewarm demeanor were interesting traits, and though she was hellbent on the Castiel hunt, she allowed her mind to ever so briefly stray to whatever was underneath Dean's jacket and tee shirt combo. It had been a long time since she'd last been with anybody, and even longer since that person had been living.
The Rolling Stones came on over the radio and Buffy closed her eyes to let the music sink in. The back of her neck tingled, and she looked up into the rear view mirror, her eyes shooting open. A woman sat back beside Sam, but he seemed to have not even noticed her.
"Uh," Buffy blinked.
"Whoa!" Dean yelled, swerving across the road. Buffy grasped her seat belt and held on while Sam scrambled back against the window.
"Smooth," the woman remarked, looking up into the front seat over Dean's shoulder.
"You wanna try calling ahead?" Dean growled, looking at her through the mirror. She smiled serenely.
"I like the element of surprise." The woman smiled. She looked to the passenger seat, at Buffy's confused face. "You knew I was here."
"My spidey sense was tingling. You are?"
"Anna. And you're Buffy Summers, the Slayer."
"Well, at least somebody's heard of me," Buffy shrugged.
"You let Jimmy get away?" Anna asked, turning to Dean.
"Talk to Ginormo over there," Dean replied, pointing into the backseat at Sam. Sam stared at his knees, looking guilty.
"Sam," Anna frowned. "You look…different."
"I got a haircut."
"No, that's not what I mean. Whatever happened to Castiel, this is…it's bad. Why did you let Jimmy go?"
"It wasn't so much of a letting as an escaping, Anna. Anyway, we're going after him." Dean frowned. "Castiel said he had something to tell me, and then, we ended up with Jimmy. And Buffy."
"Castiel brought you here?" Anna blinked, confused. "Do you know what Castiel wanted to tell Dean?"
"No idea, but I'd love to ask him a few questions of my own. I don't even know why I'm here."
"You have to find Jimmy, find out everything he knows, before the demons get to him. If that happens, we're all shit out of luck."
"It's comforting to hear an angel swear," Buffy shrugged.
