Ch. 4 Life is but a Dream
A/N: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Sam glanced at Dean as he headed for the motel room door.
"I need a beer man, I'll be back late probably," he said. "If at all if I find something tasty."
Dean cracked a silly grin as he slipped into his jacket and swiped the laptop from the table. Sam frowned as Dean reached the door.
"What do you need the laptop for?"
"Oh, I'd thought I'd catch up on the latest...you know viewings," Dean answered with a smirk.
Sam widened his eyes in appall when it registered what his brother was implying.
"You're...going to...look at porn – at a bar?"
Dean shrugged as he picked up his room key.
"Hey, you READ in bars," he cracked. "Anyway, don't wait up."
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's shameless behavior.
"Night Sam," Dean said as he drifted out the door.
Sam shook his head before he heard the roar of the Impala peeling out of the parking lot. After a minute, Sam got up and dug out his dad's journal, sifting quickly through it. He fished out his phone and dialed Bobby.
"Sam," Bobby said gruffly.
"Hey Bobby, can I pick your brain for a minute?"
"Sure Sam, what do you need?"
Sam flipped to a certain page in the journal as he settled back against the headboard.
"What do you know about the Slayer?"
Sam reviewed the information he had previously pored over almost two months ago back in Cicero. He had been so involved in trying to find other avenues to break Dean from his deal with the Crossroads demon that he had pushed the Slayer stuff to the back burner. But as the days burned away without much success, something deep within Sam stirred, prompting him to revisit the information about the Slayer.
"The Slayer?" Bobby replied in an incredulous tone. "She's just a myth, bunch a tall tales shot around the saloons by drunks."
"Not according to dad's journal, he makes reference to Caleb and Rufus having met 'the myth'. Apparently, she saved their asses a few years ago."
"Huh, well I'll be a rabbit's bitch," Bobby grunted.
Sam frowned at the nonsensical statement before dismissing it.
"I've come across the lore but I never thought much of it since I ain't ever had a run in with no super powered demon hunter, why you asking?"
"It's very likely that Dean um, met her...in Cicero."
After a long lull of silence, Bobby responded.
"Are you shittin' me boy?"
"No."
"Well, what makes you think that?"
"She got in a jam – bunch of changelings attacked her and um, her...unborn baby...Dean helped her out but she displayed some very skillful defensive tactics of her own."
Another lull of silence hit the other line.
"Are you saying that not only did Dean meet THE Slayer but that she's in the family way?"
"Yeah."
"Well Jesus H. Christ, now I've really heard it all," Bobby grunted.
"Yeah, it's a rare situation since the lore says they only live to be about eighteen."
"Damn right you are Sam," Bobby affirmed. "They have a high mortality rate because of all the evil shit they take on the minute they get called. But how the hell can this girl be the Slayer if she's preggers? She can't still be fighting evil unless she's stupid and reckless."
Sam blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair.
"No, she's not fighting evil, I mean, she looked settled into a normal life," Sam remarked. "From what I'm gathering from these notes, there's only one per generation, so either the world is out a champion or..."
"She's some kind of loophole," Bobby assessed.
"Is it possible there is another Slayer?"
"The fact that there IS such a thing as a girl demon hunter with freaky strength makes anything possible," Bobby replied. "So that's a good thought as any. What you thinking?"
Sam blew out another breath, certain he was probably reaching with his scenario. He didn't have a whole lot to go on from his dad's notes and nothing on the internet about the Slayer was concrete but then again, most of the cases he and Dean investigated sprung from just a small seed of mysterious and intriguing info.
"I guess I'm thinking, a big gun like a Slayer should have some contacts or resources that most hunters don't have access to or even think about..."
Sam was met with another lull of silence on the other line.
"So yer thinking the Slayer might be able to help with getting Dean out of his deal?"
"Yeah but, maybe I'm really stretching here. Buffy was probably the last of the Slayer line so it's probably pointless to pursue this angle."
"Well, have you tried askin' her?"
"No um, I haven't given this much thought until now, I've been so busy exploring other options."
"Well, what's stopping you now?"
"Dean would probably be livid if he ever found out," Sam replied. "He was very secretive about her and purposefully kept his whereabouts to himself when we were working that case in Cicero."
"A Slayer has to stay under the radar," Bobby acknowledged. "Just like hunters."
"Yeah, I'm sure that was part of his reasons for being so discreet."
"What was the other part?"
Sam silently recalled his brother's initial attraction to Buffy as he shifted his phone to his other ear.
"Um, I don't really know for sure," he said. "Dean hasn't really mentioned a whole lot about Buffy since we left Cicero."
"If she's retired, she shouldn't be too hard to find in a small town like Cicero," Bobby said. "Her number might even be listed if you know her full name."
"I do," Sam affirmed. "But Dean took the laptop so I'll have to wait until he gets back. Do you know how we could find her Watcher, maybe he'd be a good resource too?"
"I can ask around but it'd be a lot quicker just to call the source."
"Yeah, I'll look into it from my end, thanks for the help Bobby."
"No problem."
Sam hung up the phone and reviewed the notes in the journal one last time before putting it away. Knowing how his brother loved to brag about his victories with women, Sam had been immensely surprised that Dean hadn't clued him in to what happened in the hours he was holed up at Buffy's house.
Although he hadn't been able to witness too much interaction between Buffy and his brother, Sam had enough of a sense to know some kind of bond had been formed. It was natural for most of the people they helped out on cases to display their appreciation, often favoring Dean when it involved young and vulnerable women, but Buffy seemed to draw out a different reaction.
Usually when someone ended up in the hospital from injuries due to a demonic encounter, they would just make a phone call to check on their status. But Dean had rushed Buffy to the hospital and had remained there for several hours instead of just dropping her off. Sam had expected to hear more from Dean about Buffy other than her clean bill of health but he still remained reserved.
Sam eyed the clock on the nightstand and heaved a sigh. He couldn't do nearly as comprehensive a search without his laptop and who knew how long Dean was going to be out. There wasn't much he could do until the morning. Even if he managed to snake Buffy's number through a series of calls to information, it was pushing nine-thirty and he didn't want to disturb her bearing in mind how much sleep she could use before her baby arrived.
Sam picked up his notebook and went back to brainstorming.
"Can I get you something else hon?"
Dean briefly shifted his eyes from the laptop to acknowledge the waitress. He did a double take when he noticed the bronzed skinned dark haired beauty in her mid-thirties smiling at him, her shapely legs peeking out from a pair of high cut denim shorts. Her voice was smoky and friggin' sexy as his eyes floated over the snug white tank top that she filled out exceptionally well.
The previous waitress had been in her mid fifties and disgruntled the entire time she had taken his order so there must have been a shift change when he had been in the bathroom. And what a damn fine change it was.
His throat went dry from intense arousal as his sights honed in on the clear lace bra she was wearing beneath the tank top; she was not in the slightest bit self conscious that in the sharp light of the bar, you could completely see what she looked like without those pesky layers. His excitement shot a hundred fold as he bounced anxiously in his seat. It was like knowing what you were getting for Christmas but were forced to wait until the actual holiday to open your gift. He was already bursting at the seams since Christmas had come and gone in a flash. It would have been the perfect last Christmas if those damn pagan gods hadn't carved him up...
Dean batted away his rambling thoughts for a moment and flashed his most winning smile at the bronzed babe.
"You certainly can," he answered.
Dean chatted up the waitress for several minutes before she got pulled away by a group of beer guzzling bikers. As she passed by him on her way to the bar, she dropped a napkin at his table and threw him a flirtatious smile. Dean widened his eyes when he read the raunchy message scrawled on the napkin and whistled through his teeth. It was a good thing Sam wasn't expecting him anytime soon because based on that message, he was going to be out for a hell of a long time, maybe even the next two or three days.
Dean broke into a silly grin as he shifted his eyes back on the laptop. He had several news articles pulled up on the screen as he finished up his beer. After almost an hour of perusing several online issues of the Cohasset Chronicle, the town's main newspaper for any reports of unusual deaths, he didn't find anything that set off his alarm. He looked back at the history of the town and came across several yawn inspiring articles about Colonials or Quakers, he hadn't gotten passed the first few sentences to really iron out the ancestors of Cohasset when boredom struck him. What he did find amazing despite digging and digging, was that there was relatively no major crime in the town, it actually had one of the lowest rates in the county. In fact, Cohasset was ranked as one of the ten best towns in America to live and raise a family because of its booming economy, ample job opportunities, safe neighborhoods and abundance of weekend entertainment and night life for all ages.
As he scrolled through the tourist bureau's website, he read over some of the town's offerings. There was a major library with an onslaught of children's readings and activities, a recreational center, several handfuls of museums, dozens of kid friendly parks, holiday street festivals, and on and on and on.
Cohasset sounded like the perfect place for a retired Slayer to settle into her life. Dean drew a fond smile as he knocked his fourth beer back. He slapped his empty beer bottle down and shook his head. He had told himself he wasn't going to satisfy his growing curiosity over aspects of Buffy's life, like where she was living, if she was making new friends, if she was settling in well, if she was smiling as bright as the last time he had seen her, if she had a Christmas that went off without a demonic hitch, if someone caught her under the mistletoe...
Dean shook his head again, trying to cease his mind from floating away from reality. He had vowed to stay away but deep in the back of his mind, he could hear the soft tapping of little Summers' feet, resonating through his ears at that very moment. Sometimes that kid haunted him in his dreams just like her mom did, when through the thick reel of fantasies that flashed through his mind at night, the ex-Slayer sneaked into his consciousness.
Dean sunk a little with remorse, having debated a great deal whether to send just a card for the Christmas holiday, just a little note for the New Year, but he had stopped himself every time he had the urge to keep in contact with Buffy. He hoped that as the weeks went by, her memory would fade from his mind, just as he hoped she would be too wrapped up in her own amazing new adventure to even waste a thought on him. Not that he even expected her to be thinking about him, though, he wondered every once in awhile, but she had more important people to focus on, specifically that kid.
In the grand scheme of things, who the hell was he to even contemplate where he fell in her life? It was one harrowing experience that brought them together but just like always, he had to go where the evil was, he couldn't plant his feet in a house, with a kid, that wasn't his life. He was raised a hunter and would die a hunter and that was cold, hard truth.
Dean worked on his fifth beer and banished his troubling thoughts. Baby Summers was coming into the world the day before he left it so there was no way he was ever going to meet her. There was simply no point in dropping by when the sheer sight of Buffy unearthed the desires he had spent many months burying, desires he would take with him to his fiery grave.
Dean sucked his beer down and forced himself to take ease in the fact that the Slayer had a sister and a group of friends acquainted with evil, that her naturally cautious nature and impending motherhood made her avoid situations that would cause her harm. Not only could Buffy take care of herself, but she had a close knit group to watch out for her, it was not his business anymore, nor his privilege to keep her safe. Raising her kid in Cohasset was her life now, HER LIFE, Dean reminded himself. He had to stop thinking about her, he had to stop feeding his curiosity, he had to stop dwelling on his disappointments.
As the hot waitress swept by him again, Dean met her eyes and pulled on the last of his beer. When she flashed him a suggestive smile, she sent him a blaring reminder of HIS life. After she picked up a tab, she sashayed over to his table. This was the only life he was going to have.
"So, interesting message," he said.
"It wasn't a message hon, it was a promise," she remarked with a sly smile.
Oh hell yeah...it was still a damn good life Dean thought as he knocked back another beer.
Buffy heaved a contented sigh as her band of friends roamed through her cute two story house. Most of her friends, except Giles who was bogged down with Council meetings in London, had come out to Cohasset to help prepare her for the pending arrival of her baby girl. Faith and Xander had spent many hours assembling baby furniture after Buffy had finally settled on a color scheme for her girl's room.
She had assigned Dawn the task of folding all the baby clothes and blankets the Slayerettes had sent her and putting them in bins in a closet. Thankfully, the house came fully furnished so most of her personal items to unpack had been just small decorative pieces, her dining set and a couple kitchen appliances. After moving to Cohasset almost two and a half months ago, she spent only a few hours with Faith and Xander getting settled in.
Cohasset was a quaint but thriving town in Illinois with corn fields stretching for miles and red farmhouses adorning the one way roads. The town was just a half hour away from the university and was often frequented by the college crowds on the weekend. There was also a heavy tourist season during certain months that contributed to the town economy, allowing for more trendy businesses and centers to be built in the downtown district.
Buffy had expected to find mom and pop shops lining the downtown streets, coin Laundromats, old fashioned diners and hobby stores, so she was immensely impressed when instead she found many brand name retail stores, an outdoor mall that spanned over three miles of shops and many smaller shopping centers, along with a science center, a two story library that had daily activities for children, an assortment of manicured parks with playgrounds, a recreational center with mommy and me classes, major seasonal festivals, and so many more offerings.
On top of that, the typical residents were much younger than she had ever thought to find in a small town. Much of that was due to the close proximity of the university and cheaper off campus housing for cash strapped students, since the condos and apartment complexes in the area included utilities with the rental costs. Buffy had been grateful that her own lease had included utilities and free cable for the first three months.
It seemed to have something for each of her friends when they came to visit. Faith had already frequented the biker bars and night clubs along the main boulevard, Xander was in love with the historical movie theater that always seemed to have screenings of his favorite classics for just two dollars and the brand spanking new, two story Starbucks with a bookshop and WIFI pleased Dawn so Buffy was never lacking in entertaining her friends. And she just knew that Giles would die when he saw the assortment of cultural museums spread out through the district. She had been disappointed when he couldn't make it out for Christmas due to Council business, but he was venturing out in two weeks to see her.
The holidays had flown by in a whirlwind but they had been immensely enjoyable as Will, Xander, Faith, Dawn and a couple Slayerettes paid a surprise visit, camping out in her living room for a few days. She was just thrilled to have the company of her friends as the due date of her baby girl loomed in the New Year. In a couple more months, she was going to meet her little one and just grasping that fact had made her prone to spontaneous bouts of joyful weeping on an almost daily basis. If she wasn't weeping with joy, she was walking around in complete awe of her life. For so long she had been lagged with an enormous responsibility of keeping the world safe from evil, and now, since the rise of all the new Slayers, all she had to be concerned about was easing into her new life as a mom.
And though she was doing it alone, she was used to being on her own. She did have her aunt a few miles away to help out, and Dawn and the gang came out as often as they could when they weren't out saving the world, and she had already made a few friends with other young moms on her block, having occasional dinners with them. She had to pinch herself often just to confirm she wasn't dreaming.
Buffy was hopelessly in love with this town, with her home, with her new life and she was simply brimming with excitement the minute she woke up as it was one more day closer to May first. Feeling another bout of spontaneous blissful weeping, Buffy sniffed as she shifted her weight on the living room couch. Xander and Faith emerged from the backyard where they had been spiffing up the patio area.
"Okay, patio redecoration is done!" Xander roared with a grin.
Faith drew an amused smirk.
"Feel free to rearrange it after Xander leaves."
"Hey, I've been reading up on feng shui," Xander moaned.
Buffy snickered as Faith and Xander grabbed drinks from the fridge.
"Thanks for doing that guys."
"Need anything else before we skip out of here B?" Faith asked.
Buffy shook her head as she sipped her juice.
"No, you all are blessings."
"I knew it!" Dawn barked as she charged downstairs and stormed into the living room.
Buffy eyed her sister's immense scowl as she waved several sheets of paper around.
"I knew that guy was bad news," Dawn boasted bitterly.
"What are you talking about Dawnie?"
"Andrew just sent me these," Dawn replied. "Your friend Dean is a lying psycho killer."
Xander and Faith shared Buffy's look of wonder.
"What?"
Dawn sat down on the couch next to her sister and flashed a printout.
"Dean Winchester is DEAD."
"Huh?"
"That's the jerk that broke into your house in Cicero, right?"
"Uh, I never got his last name but I wouldn't think there are too many young hunters."
"Andrew ran a search and found these!"
Xander and Faith huddled around Buffy as she glanced at a mug shot of Dean.
"Woah, who's the tall drink of water?" Faith asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"He's a lying criminal," Dawn spat.
Buffy shot an admonishing look at Dawn as she sifted to the next sheet revealing a federal warrant.
"He's wanted for murder," Dawn explained.
The next printout was of a news article about police confirming the death of a young man who killed a girl in St. Louis. Dawn tapped on the printout.
"See! This says he's DEAD so who was that guy that in Cicero huh?"
Buffy looked back at the mug shot photo.
"Well, um, unless he has a twin brother, I guess that's Dean," Buffy confirmed.
"You had a killer in your house!" Dawn lamented.
Buffy blew out a breath of exasperation and frowned.
"This stuff doesn't mean anything Dawnie," she moaned. "So he's got a record, I'm sure there's a reason."
"Yeah, he's a criminal."
Buffy rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Or he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and the cops nabbed him for something he didn't do. I've been there too you know. It does tend to happen in that line of work."
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest as Faith and Xander looked over the printouts.
"Oh yeah, well how do you explain him being dead huh?" Dawn asked snidely.
Buffy growled softly in her throat.
"I don't know, maybe he died and a spell brought him back. I've been there too," she pointed. "OR, maybe it was a demon that took his form, I've had THAT happen TOO."
"I can't believe you'd still defend him after seeing this stuff," Dawn groaned.
Buffy frowned with offense.
"Why are you even looking into this stuff? Might I remind you that because of Dean, you were spared from any danger those changelings could have put you in. Not to mention he saved your niece's life."
Dawn stuck her nose up in defiance.
"YOU saved my niece's life."
Buffy shook her head.
"He helped a great deal," she stressed. "And I'll always be grateful so stop trying to crucify him because whatever that 'stuff' you pulled up on him doesn't matter to me. He's not a 'murderer' and I resent the fact that you're bringing this up when he's not around to defend himself."
Buffy snatched the printouts from Faith and Xander, got to her feet, strolled over to the trash can and chucked the sheets inside.
"I'm just trying to look out for you," Dawn reasoned.
Buffy heaved a sigh. "I appreciate it Dawnie but you're wasting your time with this. I know all I need to know about Dean, he proved to me who he is when he helped me in that changeling attack. He's a good guy."
Xander gulped at the tense moment as he glanced at his watch.
"Well, the Xander family van is about to scoot out of here," he said.
Buffy nodded as she gently ushered Dawn toward the stairs.
"Go get your stuff so Xander can get you back," she said.
Xander drifted up the stairs with Dawn as Faith hung out with Buffy in the living room. Faith peered into the trash can before she glanced at Buffy and grinned.
"So B, why the hell did you never mention that this Dean was such a hot dish?"
Buffy snickered at Faith's silly smile.
"I didn't?"
"Nope, I believe all you said about him was that he was a hunter that helped you out," Faith recalled. "I figured he was some old geezer but now I see why you didn't give the scoop. You want to keep him for yourself right?"
Buffy shifted in her stance as she fixed an awkward glance at Faith.
"Uh, hello. Kind of not on my mind at the moment."
Buffy tapped her fingers on her baby bump.
"Ah," Faith said. "So maybe he'll come around after you pop your girl out, you snap back, and then you two can 'get to know each other'."
Buffy rocked back on her heels as Faith winked.
"Um, Faith, it's not really like that between us."
Faith shrugged as she slipped on her jacket.
"Doesn't mean it can't be," she said. "You cut little sis down so you must like him."
"Yeah I like him," Buffy confessed. "But just as a..."
Faith grinned with satisfaction.
"Okay, so let's say this Fourth of July, you and that hot piece of ass make your own fireworks huh? Mark it on the calendar."
Faith picked up a pen and started to flip through the calendar tacked to wall above the desk. Buffy widened her eyes and shuffled over to Faith, batting her hand away.
"No, no," she said. "Seriously Faith, it's not like that."
Faith scrutinized Buffy with her eyes.
"Wait, wait, whatta a friggin' idiot I am, Dawn was ranting about some dope that tried to get in your pants but she never mentioned his name. So I'm guessing that was Dean. Did he hit on you?"
Buffy gulped under Faith's assessing gaze.
"Um, well, yeah but, I was...behind the fridge door so he didn't know I was pregnant."
Faith shrugged the excuse off. "But then he still came around after he knew, right?"
"Only because he wanted to help me," Buffy stated. "He was doing his job."
"I don't know B," Faith said. "Lil sis was harping on him pretty bad, like... 'you know who' bad. I hate to bring him up but..."
Buffy heaved a deep sigh and gave a forgiving expression.
"Yeah I know that Dawnie is just being protective but she has no reason to be," Buffy moaned.
Faith shifted into a sincere expression.
"You sure about that? He sniffs out evil, he's obviously a charmer AND he had a thing for you...kind of adds up to something..."
Buffy bit down on her lip to stave off the painful memories that threatened to surge through her mind.
"Maybe I should get on this boat too," Faith added. "Cuz if this is part two of 'you know who' then I swear B, I will make first strike."
Faith shaded with a fierce glare and clenched her right hand into a fist. Buffy blew out a shaky breath and shook her head.
"That's not necessary," she stressed. "Dean hunts evil things to KILL them, not to BECOME them. He's not..."
Buffy glanced down at her belly and struggled to beat back the agony swarming at the base of her throat. As tears tugged at the corner of her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath to maintain her composure.
"Well, if you vouch for him...I'll back you up," Faith said. "But if I run into him and he's mouthing off in a 'black eyed' state before slicing a bunch of people up, all bets are off babe cuz I will rip that sonofabitch apart. I did it once, and I'll do it again."
Buffy gasped softly in her throat as she staggered back to the couch arm and steadied herself against it. Faith exuded her heavy remorse as Buffy wiped her damp eyes.
"I'm sorry B," Faith replied. "I wish I coulda found another way but I HAD to. I had to."
Buffy sniffed away her tears and slowly nodded, clutching an arm around her stomach.
"No, um...I know," she conceded very softly. "You were doing your job."
Faith deepened her remorseful look and sighed.
"Look Buffy, we all just want you to move on," she said. "You got a free pass to paradise now with that little one arriving soon. So, don't think about that bastard anymore. It doesn't matter if the kid is gonna have his DNA, you're gonna raise her right and no evil bitches are gonna touch her, not as long as me or Dawn or any of us are around."
Buffy tried to display an appreciative smile but could only manage a nod as Xander and Dawn emerged in the doorway of the living room. After a round of hugs from Xander mostly, he and Dawn ambled out to the van. Faith paused on the porch and flashed an optimistic smile.
"Think about July fourth," she said.
"Faith..."
Faith shrugged. "Hey, at some point maybe he'll come around again when you're looking fine and ready to...you know hop back in the saddle. I mean, you got nothing stopping you from having what you want out of life with me and the girls driving the ship now, so, don't hold yourself back."
Buffy drew a dry smile. "Right, cuz I really want to hook up with a guy who's never around. I've pretty much already done that whole 'hey hon, how's it going, see ya next month' thing."
"Well, he ain't gonna be hunting forever," Faith said pointedly.
Buffy leaned in the doorway as her mind drifted to her candid conversation with Dean back in Cicero when he expressed a very pessimistic view about his future. She was still deeply curious as to why he was so convinced he would never transition into a normal life.
"Yeah, maybe."
Faith poked Buffy in the shoulder and grinned.
"See? You do like him cuz you're hoping," she said teasingly.
"No, I didn't mean that..." Buffy started to protest.
Faith hopped off the steps and waved a hand.
"See ya B."
Buffy heaved a sigh as she waved to the group. She padded down the small entry way and perched in the doorway to the living room. She spied the mug shot peeking out of the trash can before pivoting to drift up the stairs.
"Dean Winchester," she said softly. "Still such a mystery."
Buffy shook her head in amusement as she ambled down the hall and into a small bedroom. She knew it wasn't likely that Dean was going to pop in anytime soon, well aware of how erratic the life of a demon hunter was but, she had to admit there was a very deep part of her that hoped he would, just for the sake of knowing that he was still alive. The danger of her former job always made you live from day to day and she knew Dean was in that same mind set, never dangling thoughts of a future, focusing on saving lives and eradicating evil. But even still, she always carried hope of getting out of Slaying so she still wondered why Dean had written off his future.
She weaved into the baby's room and started setting out several stuffed animals on top of a little dresser. She opened one of the drawers and stored away a set of sheets. She glanced at the silk pouch she had hidden at the bottom of the drawer and pulled out the cash Dean had gifted her before he left town. She had thought there to be three hundred bucks but to her immense shock, again, there was five. She had no idea what she was going to spend it on, feeling the need to purchase something special considering the circumstances in which the money was bestowed upon her.
Buffy heaved a breath as she felt her eyes watering from the harrowing memory of the changelings attacking her. No matter what anyone said about Dean, he had assured that her baby girl would make her appearance in the world, so even if he never stopped in to say hello, she was certain she would always remember him. She sniffed deeply as a few tears streamed down her cheeks, fueled by the maternal hormones raging through her body. She stuffed the money back in the pouch and decided that she would let her little girl pick out whatever she wanted and Buffy would let her know that it was a gift from Dean. She wanted her daughter to know the guy that saved her life and maybe someday, by some miracle, she would run into Dean in the future and her little girl could say thank you in person.
Buffy smiled at the thought for a long minute before she let it drift away. She regretted now not getting his number thinking he probably had no permanent address. She let out a sigh and sent her prayers to the powers that be to keep Dean and his brother Sam, whom she also regretted not having the chance to really meet him, safe from harm.
Sam was deeply dismayed when Dean swept through the motel room door in the late afternoon. Though he looked exhausted and disheveled, his face was carved with a wide, goofy grin as he stripped his jacket off and let out a yawn. He set his things on the table and shuffled into the bathroom, shutting the door and quickly running the water.
Sam rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh as he snaked the laptop from his brother's pile of things on the table. He swiftly pulled up several search engines and after a minute to maneuver through the Cicero County records website, he found Buffy's leasing contract. He dialed the number listed and mulled over his thoughts. After one ring, an automated voice informed him that the number he was calling was no longer in service.
Sam let out a sigh of disappointment as his mind drifted through some possibilities. It had only been a few weeks since they left Cicero but perhaps Buffy had moved to another area in Indiana after her ordeal with the changelings. He couldn't really blame her for wanting to plant her roots elsewhere. As he kept his ears tuned on the running water of the shower, Sam hacked into the post office web page and checked for a forwarding address. He let out another sigh when Buffy had not left any information with the post office regarding her new address. That meant she could be anywhere in the country. Sam let out another heavy sigh as his attempts to track down Buffy were dwindling quickly. She certainly made it difficult for people to find her, then again, she had lived a long time under the grid so Sam hadn't really expected to locate her in a few key strokes. When the water streamed off, Sam clicked off his websites as Dean emerged from the shower, still grinning gleefully.
Sam eyed his brother, wondering if Dean knew where Buffy was since they had spent quite some time together. He should have just asked Dean right then and there but something told him to hold off for awhile. Maybe Bobby would have better luck tracking down the Watcher.
Later the next evening, as Dean ventured out to a bar yet again, Sam hung out in the motel room continuing his quest to find a way to save his brother. As he piddled through more occult forum boards, he heard his cell phone humming on the nightstand.
"Hey Bobby," Sam said.
"Sam, sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, been driving around a lot trying to find this Watcher."
"And? Did you have any luck?"
"Not so far, looking into a bunch of things I heard through the channels, something called a Watchers Council, guess it's like a supervisory board anyway, I got some meetings with a couple of hunters that had run ins with the Slayer. I'll let you know what I turn up."
"Okay, thanks Bobby."
The following morning, Sam anxiously waited to hear back from Bobby about whether he found the Slayer's Watcher. After several hours of pacing, of trying to distract himself with more occult forum readings, Sam finally got to his feet and slipped his jacket on. It was almost noon and Dean still hadn't returned to the room. Sam ambled across the street as he felt his hope floating away. He still hadn't found a clear cut way to save Dean and time was running out.
Sam blew out a deep breath as he wandered into a bar and settled into a corner table. His face hung heavy with sadness as a waitress took his drink order. As the waitress dropped his first helping of whiskey, he grumbled after noticing the time. Dean was going to die in a handful of months and he was parading around with attractive women, like usual. He didn't seem to exude an ounce of care about his fleeting mortality.
Sam took a small sip from his glass and winced at the harsh taste of the liquid burned in his mouth. How the hell did Dean drink this stuff like water? Dean. Sam frowned with bitterness at his brother's lackadaisical attitude. Before he even realized it, Sam had two more empty glasses of whiskey in front of him. His head was spinning and his eyes were glassy, his vision pooling in and out of focus. He barely recognized the guy ambling toward his table.
"Sam, I've been looking all over for you."
Sam fumbled to get his elbow on the table as he raised another glass to his mouth.
"Never expected to find you here," Dean remarked. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Sam pushed a causal look over his face.
"Drinking," Sam said flatly.
Dean eyed the clock above the bar and flashed Sam an incredulous look.
"You're drinking the hard stuff - at two in the afternoon?
Sam shrugged. "It's not so unusual."
Dean scoffed as Sam tried to mask his grimace as he forced down the remainder of his whiskey.
"It is for you," Dean pointed sharply.
Sam hitched his head up in defiance.
"So? You get shitfaced and toss pick up lines to chicks almost every night. Is it so odd if I want to do that too?"
Dean blinked with disbelief at Sam before he shifted his eyes around the bar to scope out the patrons. He noticed an older woman about forty, sitting by herself in the opposite corner of the bar. She looked like a heavy smoker as she coughed incessantly in her fist.
"Trying to put the beer goggles on huh Sam? What's this all about?"
Dean leaned on the table as Sam slumped against the booth seat. His face was riddled with agony.
"I failed," Sam muttered softly.
"With what?"
Sam moped deeply as he almost cracked his empty glass when he set it down on the table.
"With trying to get you out - of the deal Dean," Sam imparted.
Dean stared at Sam for a long minute before he slipped into the booth seat across from him. He flagged the lone waitress down and ordered a hard drink.
"I mean it," Sam said.
Dean frowned as he shifted in his seat.
"Ramblings of a drunk man."
Sam moped even deeper.
"I've tried every thing I can think of to save you."
Sam gripped his empty glass as tears pooled in his eyes.
"I'm beginning to wonder if it's all for naught, that even someone like Ruby can do a damn thing to help you. Maybe the truth is, I can't stop it, I can't save you."
"I've been telling you that all along Sam," Dean replied flatly.
Sam shook his head as the moisture in his eyes thickened.
"No, what I really mean to say is, I can't save you, Ruby can't save you, no one can help save you because YOU don't want to be. You don't care, you don't give a damn that you're gonna die Dean," Sam said bitterly.
Dean absorbed Sam's statement as he scoffed very softly before shifting into a smirk. Sam frowned in anger at his brother's nonchalant reaction as he looked away. As Dean's eyes shifted to Sam, a cell phone cut the tense silence. Dean fished out his phone and answered it. Through his glassy eyes, Sam noticed his brother's casual expression shifting into a look of great surprise.
"Uh yeah, speaking," Dean said. "What happened?"
Dean quickly shimmied out of the booth seat and bolted to his feet.
"Come on Sam, Bobby's in trouble."
Two days later:
Dean veered the Impala sharply to the shoulder of the road and slammed on the brakes. Sam lurched forward and frowned as Dean cut the engine and slumped down in his seat, flashing a disgruntled frown.
"Okay, I'm sick of this," he groaned.
Dean angled his seat back and got comfortable as Sam questioned him with his eyes.
"What's going on? Why did you stop?"
"I'm tired, I'm grumpy and I'm sick of this shit, so I'm taking a really long cat nap."
Sam shot Dean an apprehensive look.
"But Dean, you can't. If you fall asleep, Jeremy will be waiting for you."
"I know, that's exactly what I want to happen," Dean reasoned.
Sam displayed his disbelief. "What?"
"Tricky bastard keeps eluding us," Dean snapped. "So I'm dangling bait to lure him out."
"In his home court? Are you nuts?"
"Yeah, haven't you figured that out by now? Anyways, I'll hook him then sink him."
Sam emphatically shook his head.
"No," he said adamantly. "You can't do this by yourself."
He reached over to Dean and yanked a strand of his hair out. Dean grimaced from the sting and glared at Sam in annoyance.
"Hey! What the hell did you do that for?"
"I need it so I can go with you," Sam said flatly.
"Like hell you are," Dean protested.
"You need me Dean, Jeremy is smart and we have a better chance taking him on together than you going on your own."
Dean deepened his glare as Sam studied him.
"What's really your beef?"
Dean fumed for a second as he rubbed the top of his head where Sam had viciously yanked a hair from.
"I don't want you poking your nose into my business, that's all."
"Well tough," Sam snapped as he reached into his bag and started making the concoction to enter the dream world.
A short time later, Sam abruptly roused, bolting forward in his seat. He looked around in confusion as he saw the car in the same place with no evidence of a freaky dream world. He glanced at Dean who was conked out in the driver seat.
Sam gently nudged Dean in the arm to stir him awake. When he remained in a deep doze, Sam used a more forceful hit to the arm. Dean shot forward and snapped his eyes open. He frowned in protest at the sudden break from his slumber.
"Oh come on," he groaned.
Dean let his weary eyes settle as he slowly took in his surroundings. He frowned in confusion when he saw the same clearing.
"Hey, wait a second, what the hell happened? Why didn't it work?"
"You got me," Sam said.
Sam paused when he heard a faint sound.
"I think something is outside."
Sam and Dean stumbled out of the car and looked around. As they reached the front of the car, the guitar riff intro of Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight' pierced the eerie silence. Sam and Dean eyed each other in great wonder as no other sounds but Clapton's soothing tone filled the air.
"It's late in the evening
She's wondering what clothes to wear
She puts on her make up
And brushes her long blonde hair..."
Dean drew his eyes behind him and then swung around to see a part of the dark clearing suddenly lighting up a few feet away.
"And then she asks me
Do I look alright
And I say yes, you look wonderful tonight..."
Dean froze in surprise when he saw Buffy poised on a small blanket, a picnic basket settled beside her. She giggled softly as she made one last stroke through a lock of her hair before stuffing her brush in a small purse. She beamed a bright, deeply enamored smile up at him as her hair cascaded around her shoulders.
"Hi sweetie," she said as she shifted her weight on the blanket.
Sam watched in complete shock while Dean remained still. Buffy clutched her swollen belly and gazed up at Dean in awe.
"Gosh, baby's coming in another week and we still haven't picked a name for this little Winchester," she said.
Dean forced out a breath as Sam took a step back behind his brother. Buffy leaned back on a hand as her hazel eyes glistened deeply.
"Winchester, has a nice ring to it, huh? I'm still getting used to it myself," she said as she gazed in amazement at the wedding ring on her left hand.
Dean remained completely paralyzed as Sam tried to keep his eyes down but found himself staring at the scene.
"Are you going to sit with me? You did manage to convince me to come out with you," she said with an endearing smile. "So, sit, have a beer, it's a nice night."
Buffy cracked open a beer and held it out to Dean. Dean sucked in another breath as he became painfully aware of Sam's presence next to him. He shifted his eyes to Sam who was staring at him uncomfortably.
"I've never dreamed about this," Dean lied.
Dean turned away from Sam and stamped his eyes shut very briefly. He snapped his eyes open and turned back around to see Sam still staring at him.
"Stop staring at me Sam," Dean barked.
Sam shifted awkwardly in his stance and threw an apologetic look.
"Um, sorry, I didn't mean to."
"God, I love our life," Buffy said with a wide smile. "And I love you Dean. You have given me so much, you make me so happy."
Dean looked back at Buffy. She shined another smile up at him before the environment, along with her, began trembling. Within a blink, Buffy, the picnic environment, the lighting, the music all faded away.
Dean whipped his eyes around as Sam followed suit.
"What happened to her?" Dean asked softly.
Sam swung his sights around the clearing and froze when he saw Jeremy emerging from behind a tree in the woods. Jeremy flashed a sinister smile as
Sam nudged Dean in the arm. Dean followed Sam's sights and glared at Jeremy. Sam tore off toward the woods.
"Sonofabitch," Dean grunted as he raced after Sam.
After losing a dial on Sam, Dean continued his sprint into the thick of the woods when he abruptly stopped and looked around in complete bewilderment.
"What the..."
Dean was no longer in the woods but inside a wallpapered hallway with several doors on each side. He edged down the mysterious hallway, headed to the last door at the end. As he drew closer, the door swung open as if knowing he was approaching. He perched in the hall as the door widened, exposing a dark motel room within.
As he neared the doorway, he heard a faint clicking sound. Once he crossed the threshold, he blinked rapidly as he took in the sight of the motel room that was identical the one he and Sam were currently staying in.
Dean swept his sight across the room and noticed a man sitting in a chair by the desk.
"I got you, you bastard," Dean muttered.
The man in the chair obsessively clicked the on and off switch of the lamp sitting on the desk without acknowledging Dean's presence. Dean edged closer to the desk as the lamp turned out, spilling light over the mystery man. After a few more clicks, Dean reached the desk when the lamp turned on. He widened his eyes in shock as the man turned his eyes over his shoulder and revealed his identity.
"What the..."
The mystery man got to his feet and nodded. Dean blinked rapidly again as he stared at...himself.
"What's up good looking?" Dean cracked as he smiled at himself.
The other Dean merely sighed, pretty much all business.
"Now that you're here, we need to have a little chitchat."
Dean and his dream version began walking around a circle in the motel room, in the same direction, a few inches from each other.
"Okay, okay, no need to draw out the suspense," Dean remarked. "I'm my own worst enemy right? Kind of a good me versus bad me thing?"
Dean widened his amused smile as his dream version frowned.
"Denial through humor, it's our best defense mechanism," Dream Dean stated. "But come on man, I'm you. You can't bullshit me. I know what's really going on."
"Oh yeah? What is it you think you know huh?"
Both Deans perched in the room before swapping places. Dean stood by the desk while his dream version parked near the door.
"I know you feel dead, numb, and worthless. That every time you take a good look at yourself in a mirror, you're disgusted by what looks back at you."
Dean snorted with amusement. "Look, save the 'boo hoo' story you're trying to dish up cuz I'm not eating it. You're not even really me, you're a...dream me."
Dream Dean snorted.
"I may be dream you but I'm still you."
Dean scoffed. "Like hell you are, I'm having the slumber party, not you pal."
Dean raised his left hand in the air.
"See in just a quick little snap, I can whisk you away."
Dean snapped his fingers with a boastful smile but his dream version still remained in the room. Dean tried snapping a second time and was met with the same non-action. After a few more failed attempts, his confident smile faded. Dream Dean hitched his hands on his hip and snorted.
"Take a hint PAL, parlor tricks don't work on me," he taunted. "So have a seat because you're not going anywhere and neither am I."
Dean blinked when the motel room door flung shut and locked. Dream Dean raised his right hand to reveal a sawed off shot gun.
"You feel like talking now?" Dream Dean asked with a wicked smile.
Dean eyed his dream version as he circled around with the shotgun.
"You got some serious self-esteem issues man," Dream Dean cracked. "You're due for a ride downstairs soon and all you've done is sit around, in a bar, in the motel, in some chick's bedroom, in the Impala, not doing one thing to try and save yourself."
Dean began following his dream version around in the circle.
"You're thinking, you haven't got much a life anyway so may as well just stock up on the marshmallows, huh?" Dream Dean said sardonically.
Dean struggled to shake himself awake as his dream version continued to taunt him.
"Guess you're right, cuz when you really think long and hard about it, what do you really have other than Sam?"
Dean parked by the door as his dream self lingered near the door.
"So take Sam out of the equation and what have you got left? Nothing," Dream Dean stated sharply. "Because that's all you are, nothing, nothing but a loyal, obedient dog that attacks on order and duty."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? Let's think about this. What are your wants, your hopes, your dreams? What do you have that is truly yours? The car? Dad gave it you. The leather jacket you wear like skin? Got that from dad too. Classic rock? You love it cuz dad did. So, really man, you got NOTHING."
Dean scoffed loudly at himself, masking any other telling expression.
"Hell, you can't even think on your own," Dream Dean pointed. "Your whole life it's been, 'look after your brother,' 'that's an order boy' – why, dad's orders are still ringing through your head to this day, aren't they?"
Dream Dean shook his head and held up the shotgun to his ear, like a phone.
"Ring – ring – ring," he said with a taunting smirk.
Dean simply threw back his own smirk.
"Shut your trap."
Dream Dean shook his head and edged toward his other self.
"Come on man, stop denying it," he snapped. "All you've ever been is a soldier, dad bred obedience in you, to carry out his orders..."
Dean felt his smirk fading as his dream version nosed up to him.
"But it was different with Sammy. Sammy was his baby boy. The one he really poured his love and affection on," Dream Dean pointed with a smug smirk.
"Shut up," Dean barked. "I'm seriously getting pissed off now."
Dream Dean widened his boastful smirk.
"Dad only saw you as his loyal, obedient soldier, not his son."
Dream Dean shifted into a glare.
"Dear old dad didn't give a crap about you, and that's why you're fine with dying," Dream Dean remarked caustically.
Dean glared furiously at his dream version.
"You goddamn dick!" he snarled.
Dean shoved his dream self hard into the wall above the desk. Dream Dean hit the wall and groaned, trying to roll off the desk and onto his feet.
"My father was a goddamn obsessive dick!" Dean barked as he kicked his dream version against the wall again.
Dean swept up the shotgun, holding it like a bat and smacked his dream self in the head.
"I was his son! But he burdened ME with all his fucking crap! He burdened ME with taking care of Sam. It should have been HIM! He couldn't take care of his own damn family!" he growled.
Dean stepped back and hit his dream version several more times in the face.
"It was HIS FAULT that mom died! He should have taken care of me and Sam! But he was GONE! ALL THE FUCKING TIME HE WAS GONE and left me to be there for Sam!"
Dean swung the shotgun across his dream version's face once more.
"It wasn't FAIR! It wasn't fair that I had to deal with all his crap unloaded on ME! It wasn't FAIR!"
Dean choked with intense emotion as tears ripped through his eyes and clouded his throat. He backed away from his dream self as he clenched the shotgun in his hand.
"And it's not fair that I have to go to Hell for everything HE PUT ON ME!
Dean leveled the shotgun and unloaded two shots into his dream version's chest. Blood spattered over the wall above the desk as Dean edged up to his other version and confirmed he was dead.
A second later, his dream version suddenly snapped his eyes open. Dean blinked rapidly in awe when he saw the black pools swirling in his dream version's eyes, displaying demonic possession. Dean reeled with surprise when his dream version folded forward and sat on the desk. Demon Dean flared with anger and hostility.
"What's done is done Dean! You're going to Hell and there's nothing you can do to stop it! This is what's in store for you!" Demon Dean roared.
As Dean watched his demonic version charging toward him, the room suddenly faded away.
A second later, Sam and Dean bolted forward in their seats, breaking abruptly from their dream state. Sam and Dean glanced at each other briefly before shifting their sights away. Dean sucked in a heavy breath as his mind blistered with numbness and his heartbeat raged in his throat.
After discovering Bela's deception – again, Sam and Dean hurriedly packed up their stuff and checked out of the motel, bent on hunting her down. As they dumped their bags in the trunk, Dean heaved a breath and took pause for a moment. He leaned against the open trunk and eyed Sam as he finished throwing in his bags.
"So Sam, uh, I'm curious as to uh...what you saw in my head."
Sam shifted in his stance as he leaned against the car next to Dean.
"Um, Jeremy in the woods, he cut me off from you, to get me alone, guess it was easier for him to get the best of me. Um, what did you see? You haven't mentioned..."
Dean flashed very briefly on his dreams and nightmares as he fished out his keys. He buried them away as he shook his head.
"I was trying to get back to you."
Dean let out a breath and stamped the trunk shut before circling around to the driver side. After settling into the car, Sam shifted in his seat as Dean looked off for a minute in heavy reflection.
"Hey Sam?"
As Sam turned his sights toward Dean, Dean kept his eyes away.
"What's up?" Sam asked.
Dean inhaled a shaky breath as he cleared his throat.
"I uh, I've sort of been having some...thoughts and I...well I...I'm not ready to die," he confessed very softly.
Sam shrouded with a sad expression as Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"I really don't want to die Sam," Dean cried. "I don't want this to be the end of my life..."
Dean shifted his eyes through the windshield, drifting over the area of the clearing that had been lit up in his dream state.
"There are things that I want..." he added softly.
As he felt his emotions rising through him, Dean quickly let the rest of his statement drift away. He inhaled a deep breath and swallowed the swell of turmoil raging in his heart.
Sam swallowed a hard lump in his throat when he saw the complete anguish in his brother's expression. Sam slowly nodded his head.
"Okay, we'll do everything we can to find a way out of this deal."
Dean shifted his eyes to Sam briefly before turning his sights back through the windshield and nodding. He gunned the engine and eyed Sam with a small, hopeful smile.