Chapter Three – Kicked in the Teeth

Dean's eyes wanted to dip down to focus on the glint of the knife, but he knew better than that. He kept his gaze locked with the petite blonde's, not allowing a weakness to show. He had been training for most of his life, and he had taken down bigger and badder demons than this one, whatever she was. He was not afraid. He was also smart enough to know he shouldn't underestimate her. She had been able to sneak up on him, and despite the obvious wound she had, she was still standing.

"Mostly? What's that supposed to mean? Newsflash – being human once does not count as being "mostly" human."

"Answer my question," Buffy demanded, tightening her grip on the blade.

The two of them had been circling, slowly closing the gap between them, both waiting to move into an offensive or a defensive position. Now they were less than an arm's length away. It suddenly dawned on Buffy that the air didn't smell of the death and decay she had become accustomed to smelling while going head to head against the creatures that lived here. What's more, her slayer senses weren't setting off alarms in her head. This thing hadn't sensed her presence, and it had been more focused on her staff than finding her. There were plenty of clues, but it was the glint in his eyes that gave him away; this foe was human. Another human here? She couldn't believe it.

Before Buffy could ask him if he was, in fact, human, he lunged forward at her, coming in low to knock her off balance. Dean wasn't expecting the small girl to be able to react; he wasn't expecting any sort of counter attack. He figured that he could knock her off her feet and wrestle his knife from her hands. It would be a quick move and he would be able to gain the upper hand. It would be easier to take her down once he got his blade back. If this had been any person other than Buffy, his maneuver probably would have worked, but he didn't know that he was up against the slayer. He couldn't take her strength, training, and reflexes into account. She was temporarily caught off-guard, but not long enough for Dean to succeed. Buffy allowed herself to hit the ground, but was unable to bring the blade down on her assailant. Instead, she used his momentum to roll them so that Dean sailed over top of her. Buffy kicked back up onto her feet and spun around to face the man who was now lying stunned on the ground. She placed her foot in between in his legs, putting herself in a controlling position, and looked down at the man. That was much too easy for him to be a supernatural being of any sort. Her suspicions were confirmed. He had to be human. That of course, brought on more questions than she had had before.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice. I thought we were having a nice conversation," Buffy tensed her foot, "now stay still and this won't end with your boys being crushed. Are we clear?" Dean huffed. "Good," Buffy relaxed her foot slightly, "Now, what is a human doing in a place like this?"

"I don't even know what this place is." His head was spinning, he had taken a nasty hit in the toss. She was stronger than she looked, and all he could hope was that he wasn't concussed.

She raised her eyebrow and scoffed, "Welcome to Purgatory."

With eyes wide Dean stammered, "Wait, what?" His blood ran cold at her words, and he slumped in defeat.

All the fight evaporated from him, and the devastation from her words were obvious. Buffy's shoulders relaxed; he was hardly a threat before, but now he seemed to have lost all incentive to brawl. She removed her foot from its aggressive position and offered her hand to the man. He hesitated, obviously unsure of her intent, but begrudgingly accepted her help. Buffy hauled the man to his feet and stepped back. While she felt like the fight was out of him, she still didn't want to be within striking distance. She had learned many times that, just because it appeared the fight was over, didn't mean it was. She would never assume she had won until her foe lay dead. Even then it could continue, really. What a life she lived…

Dean dusted himself off and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. Man his head killed.

"You really didn't know, huh? Sorry to be the messenger. How long ya been here?"

"Few days, maybe a week. I've kinda lost track. You?"

"Longer." Her voice shook with her answer.

"You've got some moves, sweetheart. I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky I realized you're human. Coulda killed you otherwise."

"You would have tried"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Look, we've been here too long as it is, and we're losing daylight. So you're gonna go off that way, and I'm gonna go my own way. Capiche?"

"What, you don't wanna team up and ride my coat tails? I'm shocked," Dean's words dripping with sarcasm and feigning offense.

"Look, no offense, or offense – I really don't care, but I'm not a babysitter. I don't need you following me around like some puppy. I'm not gonna be watching out for anyone but myself here."

"You think you need to babysit me? Well that's rich. Whatever sweetheart, your funeral. I am just fine without having to worry about some chick who thinks she's tough. So I'll just be taking my knife and be on my way then." His hand outstretched to her.

Buffy laughed, "Aw, that's cute. This here," she indicated the blade in her hand, "is mine now. I'd apologize, but I'd be lying. Good luck, pal." In normal circumstances she would never take another person's weapon, but this was not normal circumstances. Her protective instincts were screaming at her, but she needed to ignore them. Her own survival was all that mattered now.

Dean moved to argue, but his throbbing head warned against it. His shoulders slumped, "Well that's fucking great. Ya know what, you probably need it more than I would anyways. I'll lift it from your corpse later. See ya 'round, sweetheart." Dean sardonically saluted Buffy as he turned to go.

A twinge of guilt shot through her chest. Damnit. "Hey!"

The man paused and looked back expectantly at her.

"Be careful of the ground. The things that live here...they can hide there."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, thanks. I'm sure I'll be fine."

Buffy waited until the man was out of her sight before relaxing her stance. She smiled down at her new blade. This piece was gonna make all the difference.

ӁӁӁ

"Fucking blonde bitch," Dean seethed as he stalked off.

This little girl not only took his knife, but thought that he was a child that needed to be babysat! Unbelievable. If nothing else, he beat his dehydration, and that was at least a victory. What the hell was he going to do without that knife though? He could fight just fine, but with exhaustion settling in he wasn't sure how long he would be able to battle whatever this place threw at him. That was another thing, she had called this place Purgatory. If she was right, that did not bode well for him. He had never heard anything good about Purgatory. The things that inhabited Purgatory were nasty, and they were definitely stronger than he. This is a place that even monsters feared.

Right now though, he needed to worry about something else. She had warned him that the ground wasn't safe. He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, he hadn't seen anything come up from the ground, but he was inclined to believe her, and that was not good. Remembering when he fell to the ground earlier he wondered if that was what happened. Maybe he hadn't have been as out of it as he had thought. So how he was going to protect himself from an unseen foe without a weapon and being bogged down by exhaustion? Physically he was fighting out of his league, and he knew it. Putting his pride aside, Dean realized that keeping his head down and sticking to the shadows was going to be the best way to survive. At least until he came up with a solid plan.

His plan was so far still in the rough stages. As in he had step one: don't die. He also had his end game plan: get home, get back to Sammy. The in-between stuff? That was the tricky part. He knew he had to survive, and he knew that he had to find a way to do so until he could find his way out, but that was all he had. It was Sammy, Bobby, or even Cas that came up with their plans in situations like this. Dean was the muscle, and he knew it. How could he come up with a plan when he didn't even know if there was a way to get out? In all the time he had heard Cas talk about this place, in all the time Crowley had talked about finding the way in, he never heard of them talking about a way back out. It stood to reason that it wouldn't be built with an exit. No way should the things that were harboured here be given even a minute chance of escaping. It was entirely possible that he would be stuck here forever.

He didn't have time to dwell on the loss of his weapon, and he didn't have time for a pity party while he missed his brother or worried about being trapped. No, Dean had to get moving. Where to, he didn't know, but he did know he needed to put as much distance between himself and the blonde bitch as he could. She was killer strong, obviously tough enough to survive here, and now she had a blade. Dean wasn't stupid, he didn't need to cross that again. The sky was getting darker, and it wouldn't be long until it was nightfall, the blonde had been right about that as well. If the ground wasn't safe, then Dean had to find somewhere he could camp out. He needed sleep desperately, even if it was only a couple of hours. Dean paused, taking a quick look around. Upon seeing some woods up ahead, he set off in that direction, hoping that there would be a tree or a cave that he could hide in for the night. Sleep could be dangerous, but he knew that a lack of sleep could be equally as dangerous to his survival. It was a risk that he would have to take.