Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or parts of this storyline. They belong to the brains of The Whedon and The Kripke.
Chapter Nine
Buffy was exhausted. She hadn't slept a decent hour's sleep in what felt like two days. It couldn't have been that long but she wasn't really paying attention. It had been a long few days either way and her eyes were telling her she needed to cut them a break. They felt scratchy and thick when she blinked.
So she had two souls in her body. Dean was the vessel for Michael, the archangel. He was clearly not telling her a thing about Sam and he also had an angel in his back pocket that apparently carved a bunch of crap into her bones, making her invisible on Angel Radar. And possibly demon radar but she wasn't sure about that. That could come in handy despite the obvious disregard of the angel dick not even asking for her permission to mark her bones. She didn't want to even think about what was happening inside her mind. So instead, she thought about Sam.
She remembered him clear as day when he had been a kid, when she first met Dean. Scrawny little guy that was all arms and legs and was scheduled to shoot off into adulthood real quick. She remembered the easy annoyance between the brothers when Dean told him to cut loose. She also remembered very well how little they talked about anything other than what was happening right in front of them. The only thing she had ever gotten Dean to say about his dad was that he liked to hunt things. And that he was a hero. At the time, she thought it was sweet that he saw his dad as a hero. But when she got rudely introduced into the things they hunted... she saw him in a whole new light.
Their reputation truly preceded them. The Winchester boys who got into a load more trouble than their legendary father because they seemed to create trouble wherever they went. They got news about a job and it led onto a whole new search. Buffy had heard about Yellow Eyes but only through stories. Considering how tight-lipped Dean was being she was pretty sure he didn't feel like sharing any more than he already had. Which had been the bare bones of a juicy story but she hadn't pushed.
So Lucifer was out of his cage, as Dean put it. It had started the Apocalypse apparently. And now they were back on the road. Back to hunting vampires. Regular, ol' boring vampires.
The sun was setting on another long day of driving and Buffy pushed her hair back into a ponytail, sticking her hand into the cooling night air, rushing through her fingers as Dean sped through the night. "Explain something to me."
Dean glanced at her. "What?"
"If the Apocalypse is really happening right now... why are you looking for such baby fish in an ocean full of bad?" Dean shrugged. Buffy looked over at him. "Vampires? Seems a little boring in comparison."
"I'll take a good, boring hunt over that crap any day of the week," Dean replied. "What, you aren't jumping at the chance to find a way to stop the world from ending?"
Buffy frowned. The words 'end of the world' meant two entirely different things in her head. Slayer Buffy had seen many 'end of the world' bits and she had somehow managed to stop all of them. But this one - this one was the end of all the worlds-type. The Biblical Apocalypse. The End. "I see your point."
"There's still evil in the world that I have the power to stop," he continued. "Why not try?" Buffy didn't comment on the double meaning behind his words. Instead, she turned to the road ahead, the lines all running together as they got closer to Ashland, Ohio.
"You can sleep if you want," he said, his voice gentle. Dean turned to look at her. "I don't plan on stopping tonight."
Buffy shook her head. "No, I want to keep you company."
Dean chuckled. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine." He gave her a long look. "You look wiped."
Buffy blushed and wiped her face. She. Blushed. She blushed. What in the hell was she blushing for? If there was ever the invention of an off switch, she wanted to tell her blood to stay the fuck away from her cheeks. She was grateful for the dark surrounding the car as she shrugged away from him, facing out, letting the cool wind touch her face. Dean had gratefully kept the music low since she had threatened throwing out all his tapes on the road that morning. Now, something low and enthralling was playing... a Led Zeppelin song... and she drifted to sleep.
Dean watched her move away from him and he pursed his lips before turning his eyes back to the road. When the Levee Breaks was playing, the night was young and he had a whole lot of road ahead of him. But he couldn't stop himself from glancing over to make sure Buffy was still there, still breathing. It gave him a warm comfort in the pit of his stomach having her along with him. She had her legs pulled up underneath her, her head hanging to the side, her mouth open slightly as she slept. She had looked like the living dead and in sleep, she already looked a bit healthier.
"What the hell am I doing?" Dean whispered to himself, tapping the wheel in time with the music. He looked over at her again before forcing his eyes away. He knew what he was doing: he was losing his mind. Over a girl. Like he was in second grade or something. He was sure it was the fact that he had almost run her over with his car full speed, seen her getting attacked by a wolf, seen how completely torn up on the inside she was that was making him feel what he was feeling. Whatever it was that he was feeling. He knew one thing and that was his feelings were not platonic.
And that meant red alert time.
He hadn't felt this little tickle in his stomach in such a long time. Since Cassie, for sure. He had had the beginnings of it with Lisa - enough for it to wiggle into his brain when he least expected it - but he knew he couldn't stick around in that messy situation without everyone getting hurt. Although at the time he had had Hell hanging over his head. But this was different. Buffy was a hunter and that made it even more dangerous. It didn't help that she was the last person he could have possibly imagined in this life and yet, here she was, in a seemingly sticky position just as he was. Two peas in a pod. A really messed up pod.
So he felt bad for her and he could relate to her. That didn't mean he liked her.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw her body shift and he pulled his eyes from the road. She screwed her face up and let out a breathy sigh and Dean licked his lips at he stared at her mouth before shaking his head to turn away from her. Gripping the steering wheel, he let out a shaky breath. The tight quarters were not helping a damn thing. Maybe stopping for the night wasn't such a bad idea.
Buffy knew she was dreaming but when she looked down at her hand, it was intact. Didn't they say something about your body not existing in your dreams or something? What was this? The word prophetic drifted through her mind. Slayer Buffy prophetic. So a prophecy dream.
Was she freaking serious?
Looking up, Buffy saw she was standing in some man-made garden behind an abandoned building. The green of the plants were shocking in comparison to the drab, old grey brick. The roses though... that was the real shock. They looked almost magical in their existence and Buffy reached out to touch one but it shied away from her. Furrowing her brow, she looked behind her. She wasn't alone.
Dean was there. No, there were two Deans. She could tell they were different though because one was her Dean and the other one was... wrong. Too different. Definitely not her Dean. The thought that she was insane to start thinking about him resembling anything related to hers came up but she pushed past it as she walked towards them. And then she saw him. Sam. Sam was there.
"Dean?" she asked and her Dean turned to look at her, shock on his face that she was there at all. The other Dean completely ignored her as he charged Sam, pulling out a gun and aiming it for his head. Too amazed at what was happening to even react, she watched in slow motion as Sam reached out, easily pushing Dean away and down to his knees where he held his head in his hands. At that moment, the different Dean looked at her and the waves of anguish slammed into her - he didn't want her there. He was telling her to run.
"Sam?" she asked, fear in her voice as Sam turned to look at her. He wasn't Sam. He wasn't Sam at all. He had the most serene look on his face as he snapped his brother's neck and smiled at her. She could see her Dean in the background, his eyes disbelieving as he watched his dead body fall to the ground, tears already in his eyes. But she couldn't take her eyes off of Sam. "Who are you?"
"Salvation..." he whispered...
Buffy woke with a start, a sharp gasp on her tongue as she braced herself on the dashboard. The fear from her dream still beat heavy in her veins as she fought to control herself. Her skin was sticky with sweat and the air coming through the window was giving her chills.
"Buffy?" Dean asked urgently and she finally noticed his hand was on her shoulder and they were actually stopped on the side of the road. The dull glow from the headlights outside and the crappy dashboard lights were all that aided her vision when she turned to look at him through pieces of her hair. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head for a moment before nodding. She released her death grip on the dashboard, her fingers aching from where she had held them so hard. She sat back, Dean's hand not leaving her shoulder. She found she didn't mind - she found she actually liked it.
"I'm okay," she said. "Sorry. It was just a really bad... dream." Was it possible that she could have dreams that told the future? That sounded like a nice heaping of insanity. No, no, no.
Dean didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She gave Dean a smile as she pushed her hair away from her face. "I'm good. Just drive."
"You were saying my name. And Sam's name." That familiar stomach drop happened and Buffy felt her throat constrict. Crap. She shook her head, the false smile on her face not leaving as she unconsciously shrugged his hand away. He let it float there before pulling it away.
"It was just a dream." Who was she convincing? She finally met Dean's eyes and she knew he didn't believe a word she said. What the hell did he know? Surely he didn't actually think that people could see the future with their brains. Right? Not unless she really was possessed.
"I'm good," she said again. She turned to roll her window up, her body alight with goose bumps. When she looked back at him, his eyes were still glued to her face. She frowned at him and waved towards the open road. "Let's get going. We're burning nightlight." She chuckled uneasily at the lameness of what she just said. That wasn't her usual remark. Trench Coat had been right... she was integrating quicker and better than she could have thought. Including sharing dream abilities. If that was even possible.
And she sincerely hoped it was not because what she saw made her stomach want to braid itself into knots.
Dean looked for the entire world like he wanted to nail her hands down and make her talk. But he didn't. Instead, he turned around, shifted the Impala into gear and pulled back onto the road. The silence was almost deafening as Buffy made herself lay her head back down, looking out her window. She didn't fall asleep again.
Ten minutes later as they pulled into a small, almost deserted town on the outskirts of Indiana, Dean pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Buffy frowned as she watched him park. "I thought you weren't stopping."
"I don't feel like driving anymore."
"If this is because of my dream or something, I'm sorry," Buffy said, shifting in her seat. Dean gave her an incredulous look. "I won't fall asleep again."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Get out of the car."
He didn't wait to see if she did what he told as he hopped out and headed straight for the motel office. This was getting to be a pattern with him, Buffy noticed and she slowly opened her door, stepping out. A full day sitting always made her body ache with unhappiness and she stretched. It only served to remind her how tired she was. She realized that the only time she had actually slept longer than a few minutes since she had been with Dean was either when she got knocked out or when she had been drunk. Ridiculous.
"They only have one room left again," Dean said, his voice gravelly as he neared the car. He tossed the key in the air towards her. "Get your crap. It's room 107."
Buffy caught the keys with ease. "What crawled up your ass and died?"
"You," he said shortly as he opened the trunk and grabbed her bags. "Here." Again, he tossed the bags at her and she caught them with a sharp release of breath as they slammed into her chest. She growled an obscenity at him and he ignored her, slamming the trunk shut. "I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" Buffy demanded.
"I need a few things."
And just like that, he was gone. Again. Buffy watched him pull out of the parking lot quickly and just as quickly pull into the street and roar away. Probably off to throw himself his very own bitchfest. If she didn't know any better, she would swear she was bunking it up with a moody 15-year-old girl.
Buffy didn't bother with anything besides a short, hot shower and a change of clothes before she threw herself into the only Queen sized bed in the room. It was only one in a long chain of reminders that the universe was seemingly throwing her and Dean together like a bunch of rag dolls. First, Dean hits her with his car and saves her from a wolf. Then her car breaks down. Then they share a bunch of alcohol. Then an angel makes her ribs his own personal canvas to match Dean's. Then they share a King sized bed and now a Queen sized bed. Claiming her side, she shut the light off and laid her head on the pillow. Her body immediately melted into the stiff mattress, grateful for something better than sitting in an Impala but her mind was racing a mile a minute.
For fifteen minutes, she went through every avenue of what could have possibly happened to bring her other soul into this body. In Slayer Buffy's world, it wouldn't have been so strange. The rules of that world were much... looser. As were the demons and the vampires and, well, everything. In comparison to this world, the demons there looked like they belonged in a circus. Was that why Slayer Buffy was so much happier? No, it was probably because all of her family hadn't been brutally murdered and she had more friends than Buffy had had in over five years. The more Slayer Buffy started integrating with this world's Buffy, the more those memories faded into feelings. She remembered Willow, Xander, Dawn... Giles and her mom. Anya and Spike. She remembered these people but they didn't feel real. At the very least, not nearly as real as when all of this had first happened. Now it seemed like Buffy was closer to the person she used to be, long ago, before she melted herself into the life of a hunter. Before she became hardened and angry.
It was weird.
Buffy stiffened at the sound of the Impala. She heard it pull up outside the room, heard him opening and closing the door. She heard his boots on the pavement and then she heard him opening their door - he was lucky she had even kept it open for him. He slipped inside, his steps stealthy as he made his way around the room. Buffy watched him from where she was laying as he reached a table, set down his bounty and took of his jacket. Pulling out whatever he had gone out to buy, he twisted off the top and took a long swig from it. Buffy frowned.
"That can't possibly be healthy for you," she said in the darkness and Dean jumped, spraying a little of the alcohol from his lips as he turned to face where her voice had come from. She saw him wipe his lips and she could feel his piercing gaze as he glared at her.
"Neither is startling me in the dark," he said, his voice slurring a little and Buffy wondered if there had just been one bottle. "You're lucky I didn't just pop you one."
"Yeah," Buffy said sarcastically, rolling over to turn on the lamp next to the bed. She watched Dean blink at it, his hand up. The bottle was recapped and back on the table. She looked at it. "How much do you drink?"
"Trust me, not enough." He pointed at her. "And that's none of your damn business."
Buffy sat up in bed, watching him move around the room. She didn't notice the bag he had brought in with him until he grabbed it and turned towards the bathroom.
"Don't wait up," he said before closing the bathroom door. Buffy heard him switch the shower on and his bag slam into the floor. She glanced back at the bottle once more, wondering where this worry was coming from. She was worried about Dean. Worried. It was preposterous, just as the fact that she blushed when he looked at her a certain way. All of it was ridiculous but it gnawed at her a little that Dean felt the need to drown himself so thoroughly.
And also that he was doing such a bang up job of it.
Buffy was staring at the ceiling, once more in the dark, when Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. She didn't turn to watch him as he moved around the room again, immediately finding his Friend the Bottle and sitting down on the empty side of the bed. She glanced at his back as he took another drink. Almost like it was water instead of some god awful liquor. The crap burned the hell out of her throat, her chest, her stomach... how much did he drink that he didn't even flinch anymore?
Buffy turned back to the ceiling as he made room under the covers for himself. He let out a small groan as his head hit the pillow and Buffy didn't budge for a few minutes, until his breathing was more even. She wasn't sure what she was doing. What did she want to do, hug him? Comfort him? Tell him the world didn't need more drunk jackasses and he should slow down?
Please.
Buffy finally turned on her side, facing his back where he laid. His breathing was evening out and she reached out to touch his shoulder gently. It was rough and sinewy under through his t-shirt and he let out a sigh as she let her hand rest there.
"Dean?"
There was nothing for a moment before he let out a soft, "Hmm?"
What now? Buffy licked her lips, her tongue running over the dry skin and the scar... Buffy felt the bed shift as Dean turned to look over his shoulder at her, the moonlight illuminating his face as he looked at her questioningly. "What?"
Buffy bit her lip before shaking her head, saying, "Nothing" as she moved her hand away and turned her back on him. She could feel his eyes on her for a moment before he too settled back into bed, his back to her.
It took a long while for either of them to fall asleep.
