Chapter Twenty-One - May 2017 (thirteen months later)

well there's a change in the wind
you know the signs don't lie
such a strange feeling and I don't know why
it's taking such a long time…

"You will never believe who I saw today."

Buffy looked up at Robin as she slid in next to her in their booth. The grin she was sporting could have cracked her face had all that pesky muscles not been there.

"Who?" Ted asked. "The creepy guy you dated who stole all your underwear?" Buffy and Lily chuckled at him and Buffy caught his eye and the small smile he sent her way. She returned it, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before turning her attention back to Robin.

"Pfft, I wish," Robin replied. "I'd beat the crap out of him; I would like all those panties back, they aren't cheap, you know. Lily knows, you should see what she bought Marshall last week." Lily nodded knowingly and Ted rolled his eyes. "But no, it wasn't him."

"Do we know him?" Lily asked and Robin nodded. "Oh, okay. Is he tall?" Robin nodded again.

"How did this turn into a game of twenty questions?" Ted asked.

"Shut up, it's fun," Lily replied, elbowing Ted before turning back to Robin. "Okay, is he wearing shorts?"

"What?" Robin asked with a chuckle. "What kind of question is that?"

"Come on, just spit it out, the suspense is killing us," Buffy interjected, elbowing Robin.

"Do you guys remember that artist guy from a while back?" Buffy's heart stopped as Robin continued on, turning to each of them, her hair bouncing with her movements. Buffy just stared at her lips as they moved, watching the words form rather than hearing them. No… "The one in that sexy leather jacket, the one who reminded me of Simon?"

"Oh yeah," Lily said, pointing at Robin as the light bulb clicked on in her head before she pointed to Buffy. "He was in your art gallery right?"

Buffy's eyes flew to Lily's at the words before slipping over to Ted, feeling the blood leaking from her face as the words slowly processed inside her mind like they were moving through molasses. Ted was staring at her, his face dark and blank. Buffy's lips suddenly felt really dry and she licked them, forcing a smile on her face for the table.

"Yeah," she said softly, nodding her head and turning back to Robin. "Yeah, that was a long time ago."

"What was his name?"

It had been a long time since Buffy had given herself a moment to think about Dean. Sure, she thought about him from time to time - far, far away like he had always promised he would stay, like Garth had said he would stay and like she said she would be fine with - and that had been… fine. Easy and manageable and more like looking back on an old friend from high school or something.

But he had never been back here.

He wasn't supposed to come back here.

Because… he wasn't.

The tiny little box in which she had shoved everything into - all the… whatever it was, the Egh Feelings, suddenly snapped open and Buffy found it hard to breathe as she thought about Dean being there. Within walking distance, driving distance, train distance… he was within distance and Buffy felt like her chest was about to implode.

"Dean," Ted said for her and Buffy's eyes flew back to him but he wasn't looking at her. He took a healthy sip of his beer before smiling at Robin. "Yeah, he had that whole tortured artist thing going on about him. Whatever that was about."

"That was about getting into my pants. And it was working, and I would have been a-okay with HIM taking all my panties, but he ran off," Robin replied with a large smile before turning back to Buffy. "Whatever happened to him? I was hoping he'd come back in, but he never did."

"No, I heard he had a thing outside of New York. Some art show thing," Ted said, the smile on his face looking entirely off. Buffy frowned at him, watching him speak, and it was like looking at a Ted doppelganger. He just looked… off.

Buffy could barely remember them ever speaking to each other, much less sharing any bit of information involving future plans. She felt the inner black hole growing larger as a healthy dose of suspicion about what Ted way saying - like he actually knew, like they had talked, like they had… been near each other in any capacity without her around - leached into the mess and she shoved it all away. Down that path laid danger. Besides, that was all done anyway. No more Dean.

Pulling the beer glass up to her lips, she concentrated on the simple act of drinking as she imagined a suitcase in her mind and shoving everything inside before snapping it shut.

That part of her life was gone. Over.

"Well, he is back," Robin said and the beer Buffy was drinking became entirely tasteless. "I had to go all the way over to the other side of Brooklyn for this story about a duck. Apparently it had saved some little rats or something, but they were all gone by the time we got there so it was kind of us mostly filming the water, waiting for the stupid thing to come back, when I saw him at this crappy motel over there." Robin leaned back into the booth, looking affronted. "And he ran away when he saw me."

"Beware of Robin," Ted said, his voice lacking everything that made him Ted as he took another drink. Buffy just stared at her beer before realizing what she was doing. She forced herself to look up and over at Robin, smiling and nodding as Lily said something. She didn't want to glance at Ted, she didn't want to see what he was thinking or think about anything that he might be thinking because that stuff was done and over with.

But then that was probably more curious if she just avoided him.

Buffy glanced over at him, a tight smile on her face.

He offered the same rigid smile, before dismissing her and turning back to Robin.

So he was back. After all that hubbub about never coming back, he was back.

Can you believe the nerve of this guy?

An entire year goes by and suddenly it's like New York is not off-limits. It was rude. And annoying. And… distracting.

Things got smoother after Marshall and Barney arrived and Ted finally relaxed. The night continued on as it should have and Robin didn't bring him up again. I didn't either and neither did Ted. Lily did, when Marshall got there, to remind him of the other artist friend she had had and there was another awkward moment where it was like Ted and I were standing on islands thousands of miles apart even though we sat right across from each other.

Awkward.

Understatement.

We didn't talk when we got home and I went to bed before Ted. I pretended to be asleep when he came in. I waited for him to fall asleep and then I waited an extra hour until he sounded like he was dead. Dead asleep, that is.

And then I got up. I got dressed.

I grabbed a cab.

I gave him directions.

I went to a motel in Howard Beach, where Robin had told me she was being sent earlier that day. It cost me seventy dollars because I was too distracted to realize the cabbie had taken the long way but I didn't even care. I think I tipped him with an extra twenty dollars anyway.

I didn't have to think about what I was doing or where I was going. I just went.

I didn't even think twice about coming out here without any guarantee that I would see him.

I didn't have anything planned. I had no idea what I would say. I just… went.

His car wasn't in the parking lot when I got there and I wondered if maybe I was losing my mind, if I had been imagining the entire conversation and that I had just wandered out in the middle of the night into the middle of nowhere on the off chance of seeing the one person I knew I had no right to see.

Logic wasn't really a big player here.

I waited.

Buffy heard the roar of the Impala's engine before she saw the headlights coming around the bend of the road and her heart jumped to life at the sound, roaring through her veins as rushing blood filled her ears. The flash of adrenaline that hit her system made her arms and legs feel weak and liquidy as a glimpse of light caught the black paint and he pulled into the parking lot of the motel, parking so he was facing away from her, so he couldn't see her yet.

Buffy's lungs felt tight, her teeth hurt, every nerve in her body was on edge and she felt like she was working on tunnel vision as the headlights cut out and the engine stopped.

She was moving without even having to think. This entire night was done without having to think. She barely remembered the waiting she had just done for him to finally arrive, praying to any god in the sky that could or would hear her that she had the right place, and that he hadn't just cut out already.

She had just needed to see him. A weird needy feeling that was treating her like a puppet on strings. And she wasn't fighting.

Buffy pushed off the wall and walked towards him in the dark of the early morning hours. He sat in the car for a moment, checking his phone before reaching over to grab something in the passenger seat and then he opened his door, stepping out, swinging the duffel bag over his shoulder…

Buffy stopped a few feet away from the car just as he turned and he stopped at the sight of her.

She didn't think she had ever seen anything as glorious as in that moment. Dean. Buffy bit her lip, the pregnant moment between them growing as neither moved, and instead of every other feeling she had thought she would be feeling - fear, worry, anger - she was… glad to see him. Happy.

Which seemed to go hand-in-hand with the urge to step up and hug him… but she didn't dare move as he looked at her warily, halfway between a skittish cat and a distrustful lion who wanted to rip her head right off.

Buffy offered him a tiny smile, lifting her hand for a lame wave and she felt her hand shaking. He didn't move, he just stared at her. Buffy finally looked away, crossing her arms as the silence continued on before Dean's hand holding the duffel slipped off his shoulder and it fell like a dead weight.

"Damn it," Dean said, shaking his head. He turned around, slamming his door shut, the groaning of the hinges echoing in the mostly empty parking lot.

Buffy flinched when he turned harsh eyes back on her. She gave him a smile as she tried to make light of what was turning into a really bad idea on her part. She didn't feel an ounce of regret about it though - like she had always known this day would come - but she did feel like she should have warned him or something. Which would have just sent him careening off in the other direction…

"Is that a 'damn it, she looks awesome' kind of statement or a 'damn it, why is there no hole to swallow her up' kind of statement?" Buffy asked. He didn't move. Buffy pulled her bottom lip into her mouth as she waited but the air between them only filled with more sludge. She sighed. "Well… you look good. Seems staying away from all this smog has done you wonders."

Her joking tone fell flat and sounded false even to her ears. Dean barely acknowledged her but to dig into his pocket for his motel room key.

"Go home, Buffy," he said, making a wide berth around her and heading towards the motel.

Buffy turned, watching him walk away, frowning. She shook her head in confusion, moving to follow. Go home? "What?"

"Get out of here."

Buffy stopped, just staring after him. She blinked. She blinked again.

"Really?" she asked his retreating back. "That's all you have to say?"

Dean didn't stop. "Yep," he yelled over his shoulder.

Buffy's legs moved of their own volition as she followed him.

In retrospect, I should have just listened. I had made things good again in chocolate chip Buffy's life and I had started putting things to rest again.

But there is an eventual end to the denial river.

"Dean, stop."

"I've got a long day tomorrow so I need to get some sleep," was all he said as he got to the stairs leading to the second level. Gripping the metal, he turned to face her, not really seeing her though as his eyes danced all around her but never touched her face. "Thanks for… stopping by or whatever. It was good to see you."

His words sounded like a dry echo of some infomercial for marital counseling… robotic and forced.

Buffy grabbed his jacket before he could ascend. "Thanks for stopping by?" she repeated. "Are you serious?"

Dean yanked his jacket out of her hand, giving her an indecipherable look before going up the stairs without responding. Buffy stared after him, the large wave of incredulity building up inside her ready to make her head explode.

"Dean-"

"Yes," Dean snapped. He turned back to face her where she stayed at the foot of the stairs. If they were capable, his eyes would have burned her to a crisp and Buffy cringed away from them, unsure what to make of the waves of anger radiating off of him as he continued, "Yes, I'm serious. I don't know what you came here jonesing for me to say but I've got nothing for you, Buffy. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. So go."

'I've got nothing for you.'

'Nothing.'

Buffy felt like someone shoved an electrical pole through her chest at his words, the last words she had thought she would ever hear.

Again, a perfect opportunity to walk away. He was being pretty clear, right? Even by your soulless standards.

And yeah, he had a point. We hadn't seen each other in a year at that point and it had been made clear that things weren't… things anymore.

Alright, so I might of still had a little bit of the denial river to float down.

The hurt that felt like a sharp stab to her heart quickly faded into fury as he turned away again and made it up to the second level.

His parting words as he walked away, "I'll see ya," were enough.

Buffy saw red; she couldn't explain the burst of rage that she felt as he dismissed her - again - and walked away from her without so much as an explanation about, well, anything. Like what they had shared had meant nothing. Like what she felt meant nothing and like she was just some other chick he picked up on the side of the road and dropped off in a field somewhere.

It was the classic 'I'll call you' departing line that left people feeling like dirt, and one she was too familiar with.

Buffy followed him up the stairs, gripping the rickety metal when it clanged loudly in the night, alerting everyone and the moon that she was following him. She didn't care.

"Well how about an 'I'm sorry I ditched out on you at the hospital, guess I could have stuck around to make sure you lived.' That would sure be nice since I did literally get gutted," Buffy said, grabbing his arm but he shrugged her off again.

Dean's chuckle was humorless and dry as the desert as he shook his head. "Been hankering to throw that one in my face, haven't you, Summers?"

"If the guilty hat fits. Hey, slow down there, speedy McGavin," Buffy snapped, slipping past him so she was standing in front of him but he wouldn't look at her. Buffy waved her hands and Dean raised an eyebrow as he stared over her head, his face passive. "Hey, buddy, my eyes are down here." Dean rolled his eyes, looking amused in a not so amused way. "Wow. You can't even look at me?"

Dean spared her a quick glance, giving her a tight emotionless smile. His voice was sarcastic. "I'm so sorry I ditched you at the hospital after you did exactly what I told you not to do. Now get out of my way."

"No," Buffy replied simply. She crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until you tell me why you are having a hard time removing the cranky stick from your ass."

"That's fine," Dean said, not missing a beat, pushing his bag up onto his shoulder before grabbing her upper arms and forcibly moving her to the side where she hit the wall of someone's room. "You have fun waiting out here all night. I'm going to get some sleep."

Buffy moved in front of him again, slipping past him on the walkway just as he reached his room. The look he shot her lacked every ounce of patience he had managed to scrounge up with the last look. Now he just looked ready to toss her over his shoulder.

"Get out of my way," he said.

"No."

"What the hell is this, what are you doing?" he asked, glaring at her. "How goddamn stubborn are you? How many more times do I have to say 'leave me alone' for you to get the goddamn message, huh?"

"I don't want to leave you alone," Buffy replied just as heatedly, throwing her hands up as the words tumbled out, "I'm sorry, I don't want you to go, I don't want you to just leave again without another word. I don't want you to just ride into town without telling me you're here, without… seeing you. Without making sure you're okay, that you haven't died or lost a limb. Okay? Is that so bad? God! Sorry I care, Dean."

Dean's face was blank as he stared at her and she felt her breath catch from the adrenaline rush as her words caught up to her, but she didn't look away, holding his gaze and hating how empty it looked. Buffy tried to put everything into her own gaze, willing his to change from the stone it was.

"I…" Buffy swallowed, closing her eyes to catch her breath as he didn't make a move. He didn't make a sound and when she looked back up at him, his face was just as cold. "I didn't like when you just disappeared. I didn't like it."

"Well tough, sweetheart, that's life," he replied with a chilled smirk. "Now why don't you get back to your Suzie Homemaker life and I'll get back to mine, how's that sound?" His harsh words drove straight through her heart, feeling like they were severing it from the lack of anything warm and nice in his voice.

Dean shoved his arm around her, pushing her out of the way as he pushed his key into the lock, twisting his wrist swiftly and pushing the door open.

"Dean, what is wrong with you?" Buffy asked, yanking his arm out of the way. He didn't respond. "Dean, come on, please, just… will you at least look at me?" Buffy asked, her back to the dark room, putting his into even deeper shadow. "Dean."

"I honestly don't know what you want from here, Buffy." Dean threw his duffel bag into the room. It landed with a loud clank on the floor inside. Dean took a deep breath before crossing his arms and leaning away from her, backing up until he was against the railing. He shrugged, his words casual. "Hey, we did the hunting thing together, that was great. But then it got complicated, and I don't do complicated."

"Life is complicated," Buffy said and Dean snorted.

"Not your type of complicated, blondie," he replied sarcastically. He waved his hand at her. "You take it to a whole new level."

"That's not fair."

"No, you're right, it's not fair. It's not fair and it's damn well not fair to Teddy boy, the normal boyfriend that every girl dreams of. How stupid do you think he is? I can guarantee you he is not at your idiot level."

"Hey!" Buffy snapped. "Why are you being so mean to me, I didn't ask for this."

"No, actually you did. That day back at the motel, you asked for it. And I was the idiot who went right on along. Whatever happened, whatever is between us…" Dean ran a hand down his face, the sound of his stubble scratching at his hand bouncing between them. He looked so tired all of a sudden as his shoulders slouched and he shook his head, almost like the words were stuck in his throat. "I really can't do this, Buffy. You need to go."

Buffy didn't budge. "Dean, please, just… talk to me. Say something. Should I start? I can start. I…" Buffy looked down as she crossed her arms before glancing back at him where he stared hard at her. "I miss you."

Dean just shook his head, chuckling silently before shoving off the railing. "You can't have both worlds, Buffy. It's dangerous, it's stupid and it's goddamn selfish. Now get out of my way and go home."

"You think I don't know it's dangerous, that I'm walking some fence somewhere with life and death on either side, you think I don't get that? I'm the Slayer, Dean, I can't just not do something."

Dean scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. Really it is."

"You don't understand."

"No, you don't get it. Yeah, you're the Slayer, that's not a newsflash. You," he shoved his finger into her face for emphasis and Buffy felt a flush of anger sweep over her skin as he talked at her. No exactly how she imagined this night going… "You put his life and yours in danger every time you go out. You think it's some switch you can turn on and off, but you can't, that's not who you are. Nobody can live with one foot in and one foot out, that's not how this shit works - that's how people get dead. But you've got your head so far up your ass, you can't see that you're doing more harm than good."

"Oh, so this is why you ran away?" Buffy replied sarcastically, unable to stop the words fleeing from her mouth as she pushed back as hard as he did. "Can't do the hokey pokey, Dean?"

Dean ignored her. "He knows you're lying to him, Buffy, don't treat him like a goddamn moron."

"Right, like you know him so well, like you know me. You think you know everything, don't you, the all-knowing Dean Winchester? Should I write you a check for this awesome therapy session?"

"Here we go again, every single time," Dean said with a mocking smile. "It's everybody else and not you, isn't it? The world against Buffy."

"Screw you. That's hilarious coming out of your mouth, he-who-cuts-everybody-off. Who needs emotional ties? Certainly not pathetic lonely hunters who drive around feeling sorry for themselves when there are people right here, right here in front of you, who can help. Who want to help , who want to be there. Are you that blind that you can't see me?"

"This isn't about you, Buffy," he said, shaking his head incredulously. "Or me."

"Then who, who the hell is this about besides the two people standing here yelling at each other like crazy people?"

Dean stopped short, staring at her like she had three heads and it clicked.

Of course. Ted.

"Light bulb," Dean said sarcastically.

Buffy stared at him. Her stomach dropped. Buffy didn't know what to say.

Dean opened his mouth to continue but nothing came out and he slapped his mouth shut. She heard the distinctive click of his teeth slamming together as he clenched his jaw before offering her a bland smile. And she knew that type of smile. It was his 'I've had enough of this fun' smile. She'd never seen it before but the finality in his face scared her.

All the anger that had been coursing through her veins died suddenly as she realized this was it. There would be no next time, no more 'maybe I'll see you arounds,' no more Dean. She rapidly realized that what had been driving her tonight - what had made her get up, made her get dressed and come all the way out here without a second thought - had been hope. Hope that she would see him again.

If just for one second.

And now…

"And that's my cue. Have a nice life," he said, pushing her out of the way again.

But she didn't let him.

Buffy couldn't explain what was happening inside her. She didn't have a freaking manual book for emotional rollercoasters when it came to life, she felt like she had started from scratch here despite everything she had gone through but it was all faded into vague memories. She especially didn't have a manual for Relationships with Dean Winchester. She knew everything he was saying was right, everything he pointed out that had been glaringly obvious for the last several months. For the last several years, if she was honest with herself.

It just tasted like she was chewing on a cinder block to think about it.

Everything moved in slow motion as she watched Dean walking out of her life again. She watched in her mind's eye him pushing her out of the way and shutting the door in her face, not letting her say anything else because he was right. What else could she say? She had a whole list of things she knew were the right thing to say: you're right, I need to go back to Ted. You're right, I'm lying to myself and to him, I need to stop slaying and get on with my life and marry the man who can give me the normal life I thought I wanted so much… I need to put this stuff behind me because it's the right thing to do.

But… she didn't want it.

With a startling clarity, Buffy realized she just didn't want it. It was the life she should be living, she knew that. It was the life she had been chasing for so long now, the one that she had let eclipse her old one and become her new shining reality and what had actually felt like it was perfect… but there were a few missing pieces.

And when those pieces came back into her life, she couldn't deny that everything else just felt… wrong.

And it had taken one person to show her that. And it had taken her three years to realize it.

Buffy felt Dean pushing her aside again, ready to slam the door in her face and she grabbed his arms, stopping him.

"Buffy-"

"Dean, you're right," she said, shrugging. He stared at her like he was listening to a fat bald man talk about the weather. Buffy tugged on his jacket sleeves, wanting him to know that she got it. She understood what he was saying. "You're right. I know you're right."

"That's great," he said.

"Dean, I don't-"

"You belong with him, Buffy," Dean interrupted abruptly, his voice soft and Buffy's heart hollowed at as she stared up at him, her eyes filling with tears as he smiled at her. A real smile this time, nothing forced or empty; he smiled at her and it broke her heart. "Bottom line. You deserve that normal life crap, that's who you want to be and you should go do that normal life stuff. He can give that to you. I can't. I'm broken, my life is broken. That's what this life does to you, it uses you and spits you back out and you… you deserve so much more than that."

Buffy opened her mouth but he shook his head, gently pushing her out of the doorway, turning them around.

"I'm gonna blame Garth for this next bit, but the crap's gotta be said because you clearly can't see it… I was selfish when I kept coming back here. It was wrong and I knew it, and you knew it, and yet I kept coming back, pushing the envelope. It was dumb. And I'm sorry it took me so long to get that out, but it is what it is."

Buffy had never - in the entire time she'd known him - heard him speak like this. It made it more painful.

"I can't be that guy, you know, I just can't. And I know you aren't that kinda person, we both know that." A tear slid down Buffy's cheek, the trail it left behind hot and painful and he wiped it away with his thumb. She leaned into the touch but he pulled his hand away. "I don't usually do this chick-flick stuff but you're the kinda chick that doesn't take a simple no for an answer."

Buffy couldn't help the watery chuckle that made her chest hurt more. It died when he pushed her away.

"Go home, Buffy."

And then he closed the door.

Buffy's heart shattered as a flood of tears rushed to the surface, the door blurring in front of her.

Buffy didn't move for a long moment, just staring at the door. Waiting.

For what? He was right.

But she couldn't move.

A thousand scenarios ran through her mind.

Going home and falling into bed, hugging Ted to her and apologizing - for the first time since she had met Dean, for the first time since everything that had happened between them and for the first time since she had started lying to Ted. For the first time since she had started deciding what was best for him. For the first time for… everything.

And Ted hugging her back. Forgiving her. Because he was Ted. Because he was better than her. Because he was more than she deserved and because she still wanted that… Wanted him and the life he could offer her. The life he had offered her over the last five years and the one she had sat on the cusp of, waiting, balancing, not jumping in with him…

She saw herself getting her own gallery. She saw herself opening a coffee shop with Lily that was also an art studio. She saw herself planning a baby shower for Marshall and Lily. She saw herself watching Robin and Barney on their first date - even though they wouldn't admit anything - and she saw herself smiling with so much happiness when Ted asked her to marry her…

She saw a lot of things. And they all made her chest ache.

Closing her eyes, Buffy tried to take a deep breath but it made the urge to cry worse and when she opened her eyes… the door was still closed.

Biting her lip to keep the sobs in, she turned, clutching her shirt into a bunch over her heart.

And she left.