(12/25/2016) Merry Christmas ya filthy animal.

Thank you RHatch89, thedarkpokemaster, philly cheese dude, and jkmp28 for the reviews! And for Mystery Guest: I'm changing the mythos a bit to make the worlds mash together rather than having them exist side by side. But thank you for the review! And all you favoriters and followers, leave a note and get an ornament!


"Goddamnit, Sammy, pick up the phone!" Dean shouted into the voicemail after the fifth redial brought no results. His hand had fisted into his hair as he paced back and forth.

"What should we do?" Buffy asked her Watcher anxiously.

"I haven't the foggiest," Giles replied. He looked worriedly out at the darkness showing through the library's back windows.

"I'm going," Dean announced. He stormed towards the door.

"Stop!" the Watcher demanded as he placed himself in the hunter's path. "We cannot go out when we don't know where the Judge is going or what he plans. Not to mention it's dark; Angelus and Drusilla could be out there as well!"

"Even more reason to go find our brother!"

"Dean," Buffy said quietly, "Giles is right. At least wait until the others get back."

Both hands now clutching tousled locks, Dean paced a few moments, then furiously acquiesced. "Fine! An hour. Then I'm gone."


"Well lookee what we have here," said a highly amused Angelus as he emerged from the back room. Drusilla was on his heels. "If it isn't good ol' Sammy!" The renewed killer sniffed curiously. "Huh. Or not."

"Boy," called Drusilla mellifluously. "Precious boy! It isn't time for the concert. You're here quite unfashionably early." She slithered up to Sam and ran her nails down his chest. "Shall we make our own entertainment then?"

The demon riding Buffy's younger brother wrapped his arm around the madwoman's waist and yanked her close. "We could certainly have ourselves one hell of a good time." He leaned in close and Drusilla giggled in anticipation.

Both Angelus and Spike scowled. The former cleared his throat and reached forward to pull (a now disappointed) Drusilla away. When she pouted, the vampire said, "Come on, that just looked wrong, you getting it on with Buffy's brother. Speaking of: care to share with the class why you're here?"

"To make sure the Knight is up to date. Figuring he didn't hear much while his head was, quite literally, buried in the dirt."

"Up to date?" Spike asked, confused. "Up to date on what? I thought he was here to destroy the world. After that it'll all be bollocked anyways. Might as well just hang on for the ride."

The demon gave the blonde vampire a wry glance then slung an arm around the Judge's shoulders. They turned away and conferred quietly, ignoring the annoyed gazes of the vampires at their back. "Someone's keeping secrets," sang Spike.

"Irritating, bodiless fucks," Angelus muttered.

Abruptly, Drusilla placed both hands on her face and moaned. Their attention caught, the demons turned to see her lean backwards onto the table and curl her knees up to her chest.

"What?" the demon in Sam demanded. It hurried over, the Judge walking sedately behind. "What is it?"

In a mournful tone, Drusilla told him, "He held the letter for one hundred years, but it was wrapped in thorns. It was awfully rude for him not to read it."

"Old news. Tell me something new."

The mad vampire giggled from her fetal position. When Sam's body knelt to look her in the eyes, she reached out and ran a fingertip gently down his nose. "Do you think I'll be invited to the party? It shall be on a Thursday and I may be terribly late."

The demon rolled Sam's eyes and stood. "Anyways," it remarked sardonically, "there's a couple of people here that need to die. Namely the Slayer and her brother, Winchester Smaller."

"Hadn't planned on the Slayer dying just yet," Angelus smirked. "There's just so much more fun to be had."

Sam nodded approvingly. "Going for the pain instead of the kill? Nice. But I think you can agree with me that Dean needs to go. If anything, it'll be hilarious when poor Buffy and Sammy get all weepy."

"You're wearing the giant one right now," scoffed Spike. "I say we maim him, you smoke out…"

"No."

"Why not?"

The demon gave the crippled vampire a withering look. "I don't answer to you. Besides, trust me when I say you'd much rather have Sam Winchester on your ass than Dean."

While Spike muttered about "pretty-boy hunters," Angelus scooped Drusilla off of the table and set her on her feet. "I'd love to hang the man from the rafters with his own entrails, but it'd be even better if little Buff' saw it all go down. Got any bright ideas?"

"Yes." The demon smirked. "Bait."


Willow, Oz, Cordelia, and Xander showed up shortly after the next half hour lugging a box imprinted with lettering that indicated it had been the property of the Army of the United States. While Xander showed Buffy his present, Oz and Dean got to know one another.

"Hey," said Oz.

"Uh, hey," replied Dean.

"So, Buffy's brother, huh?"

"One of 'em, yeah."

"So you already knew about all this stuff?"

"Dad raised us in the life, so yeah. Knew way before Buffy did. You didn't?"

"Just found out."

"And you ain't freaked out?"

"Nah."

Bemused at the laconic teenager, Dean failed to immediately notice the weapon that Xander was hoisting onto his shoulder. When the hunter saw what it was, he was instantly jealous. "Man, she always gets the good toys."

"That's 'cause she's the baby," Willow said with a grin.

"At least I got my own car."

"Oz has his own car!"

"Yeah?" Dean asked the boy interestedly.

"It's a van," Oz answered. "Sometimes it goes backwards and forwards. Even makes turns."

It wasn't hard to see the burgeoning affection in Willow's eyes that was directed at the boy. Dean couldn't help but like him as well; it was a rarity to find someone so nonchalant about discovering that monsters and demons were real. The hunter was more used to the shrieking denials that were part and parcel of rescuing hapless victims.

Xander was apparently showing Buffy how to handle the enormous weapon, an anomalous skill that left her brother perplexed. "Why does the dork know how to use that?"

Willow gave an abbreviated version of Halloween night and the chaos that had ensued because of Ethan Rayne. The selection of everyone's transformations was a little too appropriate. "Oh, that dick," Dean cursed.

"Who?" Willow asked confusedly. "Ethan?"

"Had to be that Trickster." The hunter then gave Willow and Oz his own shortened tales of encountering the malevolent entity at both Wittenberg University, where he and Sam had been slyly turned against one another, and the Broward County Mystery Spot, when Dean had apparently died in every conceivable and inconceivable way.

"A taco?" Oz asked incredulously.

"Freaking poisoned Mexican food. That's what Sam said anyways. Speaking of…" For what felt like the thousandth time, Dean pulled out his phone to see whether or not his brother had called. Surprisingly, he had. "Buffy!" he yelled as he redialed.

The Slayer came hurrying out of Giles' office to join her distraught brother as he paced back and forth. "Is it Sam?" she wondered anxiously.

Dean spared her a nod in the middle of his frantic conversation. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay? …Hey hey hey, calm down. Where are you? …All right, don't move. We're on the way." The eldest sibling hung up and told Buffy, "Let's go."

Without question, his sister followed him in rushing for the door. "Hey!" Willow cried. She grabbed for one of their sleeves and ended up with Dean's. "Where are you going?"

The hunter jerked his arm away. "To go help our brother."

"Not alone you aren't! You're running off like… like a running-off kind of person!"

"I agree," said Giles as he emerged from his office. He and Xander were lugging the resealed crate. "At the very least we should be prepared if we encounter the Judge."

"Fine," Dean snarled. "You load up that thing in the van and we are leaving now."

"What's the big hurry?" asked Cordelia. "I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to run out and die yet."

Exasperated, Dean threw his hands out and dropped them. "Sam doesn't know where he's been for the past several hours. All he knows is that he's at some place and there's blood on his hands."

"And he's… where?"

"The Bronze."


When Jo came to she discovered that she was sitting on a cold concrete floor and tied tightly to a support beam in a place she didn't recognize, thankfully unmolested. Her head throbbed where Sam had banged it on the bar counter and there was dried blood at the corner of her mouth. Tonguing her cheek revealed a bloody laceration.

She'd almost been happy to see Sam, hoping maybe that he'd had some good news for once. Instead he'd mocked her attraction to Dean and had insinuated that he was better suited for her attentions. After Jo had rebuffed him… well… The young woman had absolutely no idea what was wrong with Sam Winchester but he had frightened her far worse than any supernatural creature she'd encountered.

The exception was standing before her, smirking.

The Angel that Buffy had introduced to Jo was a gentle, troubled soul that, without a single word, conveyed a deep love and devotion to the Slayer. Jo did her best to see past his vampirism for her friend's sake, but it was difficult to fight against the instincts that she'd developed from her years of being exposed to hunters at the Roadhouse.

Jo's opinion turned for the better once he'd saved the her life twice; once when the single vampire she'd been stalking turned out to have a few friends, and the second when a drunken idiot from the local college tried to assault her on the way home from a shift at The Bronze. She still insisted that she could have taken care of the boy by herself, knife or no knife.

In response, the young woman had developed respect for Angel not only for his fortuitous appearances but for his genuine desire to do good. She'd known hunters that came through her mother's bar who were in it for the thrill and the boasting rights. Not so Buffy's vampiric boyfriend.

Angelus, however…

"You know," the thing said genially, "I really do like blondes. There's just something about them that tastes better." The vampire stepped forward and knelt to better look her in the eye. "Maybe the two of us should have a little fun before the Slayer and her pretty brother try to come to your rescue."

Repulsed, Jo fought the urge to spit in the monster's face as he drew his finger in a repulsively gentle manner down the side of her face. Instead she channeled her mother's best "I ain't puttin' up with no nonsense from you" face and glared defiantly. "Why am I here?"

"You're a backup hostage, Jo-Jo. Just in case Sammy's little ruse goes south."

"You don't really think he can fool his brother and sister in thinking that he's still the same person?"

"I think you're underestimating how blind those three are when it comes to each other. Must have inherited it from John Winchester since I know Joyce isn't nearly that stupid." His face lit up with a hungry grin. "It's why your lovely blonde head is still attached to your body."

"Screw you."

The monster gripped her chin tight and gave her a vampiric snarl. Inadvertently, Jo's terror slipped through and her breath quickened. "So be good," Angelus admonished, "or I might make a change of plans."


When the van pulled up on the street before The Bronze its occupants could see a distraught Sam pacing back and forth with his hands stuffed in his armpits. He gave them a panicked glance and approached. Dean and Buffy confronted their brother while the others headed inside. Once his siblings were in hearing range, Sam began a rambling explanation.

"I-I-I don't know how I got here," he stuttered. "Th-There's blood on my hands. Inside, the inside, oh God, it's… it's wrecked and what if I did it? Dean, what if this is what dad was talking about? What if you have to—"

"That's enough!" Dean barked. "First things first," he said in a far more gentle manner, "Let's go inside and you go on and get cleaned up."

"Dean," Xander called from the open door of The Bronze, "you're going to want to get in here."

"Come on, Sam," Buffy said gently. She took her brother's hand and led him into the club.

The three entered together and found Buffy's friends clustered at the bar, grim. When Dean hurried over he immediately saw what had gotten their attention. A broken bottle lay shattered on the ground and the glass counter was cracked. Several chairs had been overturned. Blood was spattered about, but fortunately not in a quantity that would have been fatal.

"Jo," Dean surmised. He turned around to see a horrified Sam examining his spattered knuckles.

"Whoever it was isn't here," said Giles practically. He swept his gaze around the room. "Nor is the assailant."

Sam swallowed. "Or maybe—"

"Cut the crap, Sam," interrupted Dean, "it wasn't you, okay? There's gotta be another explanation."

"What if it was? What if this is exactly what dad was trying to warn you about?"

"Not here."

"But—"

"I said, not. HERE!"

Upon remembering that they had an audience, Sam quickly stifled his objections. Buffy, however, wasn't about to accept her brothers' sudden reticence. "Oh no you don't," she growled. "What exactly did dad tell you?"

Exasperated, Dean grabbed his siblings' arms and dragged them away from the others. A perturbed Cordelia threw up her arms and let them drop. "Great. A killer unkillable demon went and became besties with a vampire psychopath, and now one of Buffy's brothers is going crazy! Did I miss anything else?"

"I hear there's a new Slurpee flavor," said Oz.

As Buffy's friends tried to uncover anything that might answer the other conundrum, Dean explained their father's deathbed revelation to his sister. When he was done, Buffy glanced back and forth between them disbelievingly. "And you were going to tell me about this when?" she hissed.

"It just slipped my mind," mumbled Dean.

"That's the stupidest excuse in the history of stupid excuses! If dad thought Sam was going to go all Vader on us, don't you think it would've been nice to know?"

"Well it looks like I just did," Sam said despairingly. "Who knows what happened here? Jo could be out there hurt or-or-or dead. Look at my hands!" His voice went suddenly morose. "You promised, Dean. To me and dad, you promised."

"No! I didn't—" Recalling that the others could hear, Dean cut himself off. Harshly, he whispered, "Listen to me. We're going to figure this out, okay? There's got to be a way."

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm–I'm just becoming—"

"What?"

Sam frowned and glared down at brother. "You know."

"Oh my God," an irritated Buffy sighed. "Don't tell me you still believe in that whole, 'banana eyes meant me to be murder-happy' thing!"

"Why not?" Sam thrust his bloodied hands in his sister's face. "I might have killed Jo! A friend. Your friend." He reached into his jacket for his pistol and stuck it out, handle first, at Dean. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt either of you."

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Buffy cried, loud enough to gain her friends' attention. "Put that away right now!"

Dean ignored his gaping audience and outraged sister. "You won't," he told his brother quietly. "Whatever this is, you can fight it."

"No," Sam choked out, "I can't. Not forever. You've got to do it. Take the goddamn gun and shoot me."

The brothers stared at one another, frozen at a terrible impasse. Silently, the others watched, shocked, as Sam waited for Dean to put an end to his perceived evil. When it became obvious that the eldest of the siblings was going to continue to refuse, the younger brother took matters into his own hands. "Fine," he uttered as he put the barrel to his temple.

"No!" Buffy shrieked as she yanked the gun away from Sam's head. The intended suicide bullet smacked into The Bronze's ceiling and dropped crumbs of drywall down on their heads. Utilizing all her Slayer strength, Buffy then threw the offending weapon as far as she could. It came to a clunky landing somewhere in the far corners of the club.

In a suddenly forbidding manner Sam drew himself up and eyed each one of them maliciously. His vehement glare pierced his brother and then his sister. "You'll regret this," he snarled as he stormed out of the alleyway exit and slammed the door.

Dean immediately moved to follow. He was gently prevented from doing so by Giles. "I'll go," the Watcher offered after placing his hand on the hunter's shoulder. "I don't think your brother is in the mood to see either of you right now."

"Thanks, Jeeves."

After Giles departed, Dean wiped a hand down his face and gave a deep sigh. Troubled, Buffy asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, but I can't do shit about it."

"I'm still mad you two didn't say anything about that."

"Yeah, well, you know, we've been so open with each other all our freaking lives. Not like you haven't kept a secret or two."

"Touché."


When Sam entered the building, Jo's breath caught in her throat. The cruel smirk on his face was so discordant to his features that she couldn't believe this was the same heart-heavy, well intentioned Sam Winchester she'd met all those months ago.

"So?" Angelus wondered.

"Didn't go nearly as good as I would have hoped," said Sam, "but it's workable." He gave a sharp whistle and a monstrously large bald man, tattooed head to toe in blue whorls, emerged from the shadows.

The newcomer blinked and his eyes went black. "The sinners," growled the demon, "do they come?"

"Packaged with a big ol' bow for the both of you," Sam replied. Jo stiffened as her one-time friend crouched in front of her and gave an ominous grin. "Hi, Jo. Say, I've been meaning to ask: what exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?"

When she remained silent, Sam answered his own question. "Let me guess. Poor Billy Harvelle got dangled like meat on a hook, Johnny-boy jumped the gun, and the demon went and had itself a bite of Jo's daddy. Am I right?" He then clucked his tongue. "Not quite."

Jo was startled into responding. "What?"

"Oh. See, it hurt him. It didn't kill him. You and mom don't really know the truth, do you?" Sam grinned as if savoring the memory. "You see, Bill was all clawed up. Was holding his insides in his hands. He was gurgling and praying to see you and Ellen one more time. So my dad killed him. Put him out of his misery like a sick dog."

"You're lying," Jo said vehemently.

"My daddy shot your daddy in the head," Sam sang.

"Wow," Angelus commented sardonically, "that really is quite the story. But see, your little family to family squabble here isn't producing the blood and tears I was hoping for. Mind telling me what we're doing next?"

"Easy," Sam said pleasantly. "I'm going to call the Slayer and tell her that I'm tragically close to killing two of her friends. When her merry horde arrives, you can do whatever you want. Just make sure Dean's dead by the end of it."

"Wait, what? Two?"

"Oh, I forgot." Sam walked over to the door, jerked it open, and pulled a startled Giles into the room. A stake fell from his hand and clattered onto the floor.

The Watcher struggled furiously against Buffy's younger brother. "You won't get away with this—"

"Rupert, Rupert, Rupert," Sam chastised as two of Angelus' lackeys grabbed the librarian's arms. "Play nice and I just might let you say farewell to your precious Slayer before you die."


Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episodes "Innocence" (BtVS 2.14) and "Born Under a Bad Sign" (SPN 2.14).