(9/26/2016) I'm sorry for the confusion, but I decided to shorten the chapters. The Prophecy Girl one was getting super long. I don't know about anyone else, but revising something as long as a Hermione Granger essay is a little daunting. Anyways, enjoy!
Thanks to Princesakarlita411 and RHatch89 for the reviews! And thank you all favoriting and/or following!
They made it to Sunnydale at about 9am, wired and anxious. Their sister in "mortal danger" had Dean streaking down I–15 at perilous speeds with Sam, for once, not harping at him about the possible consequences. They'd stopped only twice in order to gas up and imbibe caffeine before resuming their reckless trip. Luck spared them from the attention of both the Nevada and the California State Patrols.
Dean dropped Sam off on Revello Drive to see to Buffy while claiming that he had no idea how to handle the "girly shit." The elder brother then headed for the school hoping that, despite it being Saturday, Giles would still be hanging about the library.
After parking, Dean spotted Willow and Cordelia entering the building, the latter gesticulating angrily at nothing. He jogged after them hoping that the redhead would know where the Watcher was at. When the hunter finally caught up to them, they were peering into a classroom window. "They're watching cartoons," Cordelia remarked. "That's so cu—" she cut herself off and frowned at Willow. "It's not cute. It's annoying. I'm annoyed!"
"Right," agreed her bemused companion. "I'm furious."
Cordelia continued rambling about the detrimental tendencies of men while rummaging through her purse for keys. As she was unlocking the door, Dean strode up. Before he could give any sort of greeting, he caught sight of the blood pooling on the floor near the girls' shoes. "No, don't!" he cried as he rushed to try to stop them. "Wait—"
The door fell open outwards… along with the body of a teenage boy. Cordelia let out a bloodcurdling scream as Willow gaped into the room at the carnage. Three girls and two boys (including the one on the floor) lay about the room in various positions of repose. Bloody gaping wounds had been torn into each of their necks.
"Hey," Dean said gently to the shrieking Cordelia. He shook her shoulder with increasing violence until she quieted and looked up at him. Her tears had streaked mascara down her cheeks. "You have a phone?" When she nodded he instructed, "Go outside, call 911, okay?"
Cordelia breathed in a sob and ran for the exit. Once she was gone, the hunter checked on Willow. He was distressed to find the redheaded girl standing in the middle of the classroom-turned-abattoir staring mutely at the bodies of her schoolmates. Dean picked his way over cautiously while asking, "Willow? You okay?"
"I come here every day," she murmured. "This isn't their world. They shouldn't be like this. I come here every day."
Shock, Dean inferred. He slowly wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Come on, Willow. This ain't a good place to be."
Dean pulled the girl out of the school just as the first of the emergency responders arrived. As Cordelia was a sobbing mess and Willow had been rendered mute he was the only one left to explain what they had found. The hunter honestly didn't think he'd ever improvised so many lies so quickly.
In all the hunts his father had taken him on Dean had never seen creatures so brazen. Most preferred to kill as surreptitiously as possible; increased attention on their misdeeds amped the likelihood of a hunter taking notice. With Buffy being the Slayer and in "mortal danger" this open massacre couldn't have been a coincidence.
News vans were starting to congregate in the parking lot and Dean wasn't eager to test the presumption the authorities had regarding his death. A revived Cordelia assured him that she could drive herself home (although she put it as, "I'm not leaving my car here so some bum can sleep in it!") which left him to care for Willow. Before he could find out what it was that had Giles up in arms he would need to ensure the girl's wellbeing.
Joyce was bewildered to see Sam, but glad as always. She invited him in and when he asked about Buffy her mother said she was upstairs.
Knocking on his sister's bedroom door brought no answer. When Sam risked peeping inside he found a morose teenager sitting up in bed and staring blankly at the wall. "Hey," he called softly.
Buffy gave him a sad little smile. "Hi, Sam. Why are you here?"
Her brother walked in and closed the door. "Rupert called us. He was worried about something. Mind telling me what's up?"
"It's… nothing."
Sam huffed out a laugh and countered, "You suck at lying and you look like someone died."
"Not yet."
Startled, Sam quickly walked over and sat next to his sister on her bed. "What do you mean, 'not yet'?"
She sighed. "Giles was reading something called the Parmesan Codex—"
"Parmesan?" Sam asked, confused.
"I dunno, something like that. Apparently it says that tonight I get to face the Master and die."
"Buffy, oh God." Sam reached out and drew his sister into a tight embrace. She merely lay against him and her apathy troubled her brother more than the supposed prophecy. "It's just a book. You can't think something's definitively going to happen because of a book."
"Well, Giles and Angel both seem to think so."
"Angel? Don't tell me that guy is still around."
Buffy backed out of his arms. "Yeah, so?"
"Don't tell Dean. He wants to stake him and then watch the ashes swirl down the toilet."
"Ew! A used toilet…?"
"Yeah, we shouldn't get into the details."
This time Buffy's smile was bright with humor and Sam breathed a small sigh of relief. As long as his sister had some spark left it meant she hadn't fully accepted the certainty of her demise. Sam was prepared to launch into the tale of their racist ghost-truck encounter as a distraction when Joyce popped her head inside the room. "Pancakes, you two?"
"Sounds great, Joyce."
"Sure, mom."
After her mother left the room, Sam saw that Buffy had resumed the flow of maudlin thoughts. He looked around for inspiration and spotted a beautiful white gown that was hanging outside her closet. "What's that for?"
"Spring fling," his sister sighed. "The dance I don't have a date to. Mom thinks I should go anyways."
"Sounds like a good plan to me. Besides, I like your dress."
Dean arrived after lunch, the signature rumble of the Impala drifting in through the open windows. Immediately, Sam bounded out of the house demanding, "Dude! Where have you been?"
The eldest of the three siblings was looking uncharacteristically haggard. "There was a massacre at the school," Dean answered quietly. "Vamps. Willow and that Cordelia chick found the bodies."
"Holy crap. Those two are okay, right?"
"Pretty sure Cordelia's fine. Willow, not so much. Buffy inside? You find out what's going on?"
"Apparently there's some kind of prophecy that says she's going to die tonight after facing someone called the 'Master.'"
"Oh man. I saw that name in dad's journal. Guy's the oldest known vampire."
"What?"
"Was looking up vamps since our little sister is now a freaking 'Vampire Slayer.' Dad thought they were extinct but he still wrote down anything he found."
"How come you didn't tell me?"
"Because it was right in the middle of that stupid shit with psycho-psychic boy and I forgot, okay?"
Sam shrugged and sighed. "Fine, whatever. We need to talk to Rupert—er, Giles."
"Why're we callin' him by his last name now?"
"Buffy made me. She said 'Rupert' sounded like 'Poo-pert.'"
Dean stared at his brother. "Dude, is our sister sixteen or six?"
The incident at the high school was too sensationally horrifying to be ignored by the local media. Rather than chance the possibility of Buffy getting a nasty surprise off of the evening news, Dean pulled her to the backyard and detailed what had happened. She immediately called Willow, but Mrs. Rosenberg informed her that her daughter needed time to contemplate what she had seen before visitors would be allowed.
"'Contemplate'?" Dean asked incredulously.
Joyce sighed as she handed Dean a sandwich. "Mrs. Rosenberg is a bit on the, um… intellectualside."
"Don't worry," assured Buffy. "Soon as Willow asks to see someone her mom will cave."
"Warrrer fuu doin chunigh?" Dean wondered through a mouthful of bread and bacon.
"Dude!" Sam cried as he was spattered by crumbs.
Baffled, his sister said to Dean, "What?"
Joyce patted the eldest brother on the shoulder. "Swallow, dear."
Dean did as he was told, then asked, "What're you doing tonight?"
"She's got a dance to go to," beamed Buffy's mother.
"She's got a nice dress and everything," added Sam.
Dean peered questioningly at his brother before taking another bite. He sighed in contentment; Joyce always made the best sandwiches.
"I don't know," Buffy murmured.
"Oh, go," her mother insisted. "In fact, now that your brothers are here they can be your dates!"
"What?" the trio of siblings asked simultaneously.
Joyce grasped Sam's left and Dean's right arms and pulled them up. They unwillingly stood as she said, "Two handsome boys on your arm will make quite an impression! No one needs to know who they really are."
"Mom," Buffy argued, "Dean looks too old."
"Hey!" the eldest brother objected. "Wait," he reconsidered, "I don't mind. I prefer my manly maturity."
"Dork."
"Well, what about Sam?" asked Joyce.
"He's… too tall?" tried her daughter.
Shaking her head, Joyce let Dean go and dragged Sam with her out of the room saying, "Come along. I'm sure the local tuxedo place will have something in your size; not many people are your height." Sam desperately mouthed, Help me! as he was pulled away.
"See ya later, Sammy!" Dean called cheerfully.
"Looking forward to our date!" added Buffy.
Buffy left Dean to his own devices as she prepared hair, makeup, and outfit for the dance. So far she'd managed to put on a brave face for her family, but she was alone now and could indulge in her despair.
At least she wanted to.
The tears just wouldn't come. It was surreal, this thing that was fated to happen, and nothing in her tragically short life could have prepared her to know what to do with just hours left before her death. Instead she felt numb, distant, her true self walled away screaming while her mask put on mascara and eyeliner and a beautiful white gown.
It really was a nice dress.
The loud wolf whistles of her eldest brother signified the return of Sam and her mother. Shortly afterwards, Dean was busting a gut laughing while their brother silently took the abuse (probably with his eyes rolled and his middle finger jutted upwards). Buffy gave a small chuckle. At least they weren't affected by her impending doom.
The Slayer glanced at the clock and grabbed a coat. It didn't quite match her dress, but it would serve to keep her warm. She laid it over her arm and headed for the stairs.
When the others caught sight of her they were all smiles. Her mother placed her hands over her mouth, gasping over how pretty Buffy looked, and a wonderfully tuxedoed Sam went up a few steps to hold out an elbow for her to take. Dean, however, looked both admiring and threatening; Buffy pitied any boy that would have tried to dance with her.
"Oh, let me take a picture!" Buffy's mother exclaimed. She rushed off to grab her camera.
Dean began sniggering. "What?" Sam groused.
"You should see you two," the eldest brother guffawed. "It's like the Jolly Green Giant standing next to a pea."
Buffy's mother rushed back in, camera in hand, when Dean started cursing at the top of his lungs. She found him hopping up and down on one leg clutching his shin while her daughter and her younger (unofficial) stepson looked on smugly.
"Oh good grief," she sighed. "Can't leave you guys alone for just one minute."
Joyce loaned Sam the SUV to take Buffy to the dance (which was apparently being held at The Bronze) while Dean claimed he was heading out for a more adult pastime: cruising the local bars. In truth the younger siblings were heading to Willow's to offer some comfort, and the eldest, after placing a few calls, decided to head to the school library. It seemed that Giles was continuing to research in a last ditch attempt to find a loophole out of the prophecy.
Sam made the mistake of somehow engaging Mrs. Rosenberg in the debate between free-will and determinism and ended up sending the woman away in a huff. Apparently having a living, breathing example of free-will standing in front of her flew in the face of all she believed. Willow later explained her mother would forget the incident; Mrs. Rosenberg had the much practiced skill of blocking out those things she found unpleasant. Just in case, however, Sam returned to the car.
Exhausted, the hunter inadvertently found himself considering a minute's nap in the driver's seat. They hadn't done much in terms of rest the night before and the busyness of the previous hours hadn't helped. Sam closed his eyes.
Buffy was walking down a stone corridor lit with torches. She held the hand of a boy. No, not a boy; a monster with a boy's face. They arrived in the cavern where the Master's hideous form had been trapped for decades. He mocked the Slayer, taunted her until she entered his prison and he could manipulate her into his arms. His teeth sank into Buffy's neck and he drank. When he was done, he dropped her body face first into the water and strode regally from the room.
Sam woke with a gasp. Phantom knives were stabbing into his head. He tried to think through the pain to solve the conundrum he now had.
Buffy was stubborn. Granted, all three siblings were hard-headed, but their sister was the worst. She was the baby, she'd gotten her way more often than not, and John had never gotten the chance to subject her to the strict, military-style discipline that his sons were used to submitting to. If Sam tried to turn Buffy away from her course tonight, whatever that course was, he knew she'd immediately balk and dig her heels in. He had no idea what to do and very little time to figure it out.
A few minutes after the throbbing pain receded Buffy got back into the SUV. Sam noticed a palpable difference in her demeanor. She still exuded misery, the certainty of her death affirmed in her mind, but there was now a raging fury layered on top. Her brother breathed a sigh of relief as he started the engine. Whatever Willow said had given his sister motivation to fight. He'd take that over passivity any day.
"She okay?" Sam tentatively asked as he drove away from the Rosenberg's.
"Yes."
"And…?"
Buffy sighed. "Before today there was such a clear line, you know? We did our slayage-slash-hunting thing and they had their normal boring lives. Like there was this invisible wall. And-And now there's a bloody, gaping hole in that wall and it sucks."
"Welcome to most of our world," her brother said stiffly. "Every monster we go after we find because they've been snacking on someone's mom or girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever."
"Yeah but they're not your—" Buffy clamped her mouth shut. Her brothers had seen that invisible wall shattered a long time ago. For Dean it had happened when his mother had been brutally eviscerated and burned; for Sam (who was only a baby when Mary Winchester died) it had been when his fiancée had met the same fate. "How do you deal with it?" she finally asked in a small voice.
Sam sighed. "You remember that whatever happens isn't really your fault, that the bad guys are the bad guys for a reason. You also remember that you're saving lives, no matter how much it might seem otherwise."
They drove in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Sam asked, "Uh, are we still going to the dance?"
"No. Take me to the school. I need to go do something."
Dean parked the Impala on the street and hurried inside the library. He was there just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation Giles was having with an exotic young woman that the hunter eyed covetously. "You got anything?" Dean asked.
"No," Giles responded, frustrated. "Between myself and Miss Calendar, however, we've managed to figure out that one of the Master's lackeys is most likely in the body of a child."
"'Miss,' huh?" Dean gave the woman his best, smoldering smile as he sat down at the library table. He got a wry smirk in return.
"Yes. As in Miss Calendar, the computer science teacher."
"You must be a smart lady."
Giles dropped a pile of large, antiquated books on the table directly in between Dean and Jenny Calendar. "I believe we have something we should be doing right now. Or rather, I should be doing."
Dean lifted his eyebrows at the Watcher. "Where you headin' off to?"
Giles adjusted his glasses and proclaimed, "Buffy will not face the Master. I shall."
"And, what, break a hip swinging a sword?" The hunter stood up and held out his hand. "Give methe location. I'll do it."
"I may be Buffy's Watcher but you are her brother. Out of the two of us who is she likely to miss more?"
"That's bullshit and you know it. I'm younger and faster and I'm more likely to kick this vamp's ass, so tell me where the thing is!"
Dean was taken aback when the librarian authoritatively poked him in the chest. "I am a Watcher. I have been training all my life to face these sort of dangers under the best tutelage England has to offer, not some bumbling hunter with no formal training and a complete lack of knowledge of what he is about to charge into! I am the one that is going to defeat the Master and that is final."
"No," said Buffy quietly but firmly. "It isn't."
She'd arrived unnoticed apart from Miss Calendar (who didn't think the two tossing testosterone about would have listened anyways). Her chin was up and her eyes blazing as she looked first at Giles and then at her brother. "I'm going," she declared.
"Like hell you are," Dean said forcefully.
"Buffy," Giles pleaded as he walked slowly towards his young charge, "I will not send you out there to die. What you said before: you were right. I've waded about in these old books for so long I've forgotten what the real world is like. It's time I found out."
"No," Dean scoffed, "I'm going. Buffy, this is just another hunt. I got the best chance of getting out of there."
"Neither of you are going," his sister stared firmly. "I'm the Slayer. This is how it's going to be."
"I don't care!" Giles cried. "I'm going, and nothing you say will change my mind."
"I know," the teenaged girl said softly before punching the man unconscious. Miss Calendar shot up out of her chair.
"Uh-uh," growled Dean as he backed away. "Don't you dare —" With a second swing, Buffy's brother joined the librarian on the floor.
Buffy sighed down at Dean and her Watcher. "I knew they were up to something stupid. If my other brother walks in tell him that these guys did something cool other than fall over after one punch."
"You can't blame them for wanting to protect you," Miss Calendar said gently.
"No, I can't," said Buffy as she turned to leave.
"You fight the Master," her teacher called worriedly, "you'll die."
"Maybe," the Slayer replied, her hand on the door. "Maybe I'll take him with me."
Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episode, "Prophecy Girl" (BtVS 1.12).
Author's Note : I smooshed together some of the dialogue with Giles for Dean's sake.
Also, there's not much to go on with Mrs. Rosenberg, but she sort of struck me as the completely logical type. Free-will being the construct of the social whatever something or other.
