(1/24/2017) Ugh, why haven't we found the cure for the common cold yet? Someone get on that, chop chop!
Note : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episode "Born Under a Bad Sign" (SPN 2.14).
Thank you thedarkpokemaster, RHatch89, lilnudger82, philly cheese dude, missmeow1968, and jkmp28 for the reviews! And all you favoriters and followers get spoonfuls of honey!
January 22, 2007
Dean hadn't caught any fish, but he was enjoying himself nonetheless. There were cold beers in the cooler beside him, the breeze and the sun were collaborating just right to create the perfect temperature, and the birds were beeping cheerfully nearby.
Beeping?
Ah well, whatever. Birds made weird noises sometimes.
With a contented sigh, Dean reached into his cooler. Instead of grabbing a beer, however, he knocked the container into the lake. He stood up to retrieve it, grumbling obscenities the entire time. When Dean knelt down to see where it had gone, he caught sight of his reflection.
His eyes were black.
Dean woke with a jerk that caused pain to rip up his abdomen. The incessant beeping had evidently been a heart monitor. Its pace was slowing as he recovered from his nightmare.
The hunter took a moment to catalogue his injuries. Big fat bandage on his belly, some on his face, and gauze covering one eye. That would explain the lack of depth perception. Various bruises but no broken bones. He glanced up at the bags of fluid feeding into his hand and assumed they were important, but if one of them held painkillers it was being stupidly ineffective.
A look around the room revealed Sam's oversized form sprawled awkwardly in a padded chair. In another curled Buffy's far more compact one. The light seeping in through the blinds was bright enough to be day which meant the two idiots had probably stayed up the entire night watching him.
Dean risked a small sigh and let his head flop back onto his pillow. He'd been so ready to die, so absolutely ready to just go on like he was supposed to have done in that car crash all those months ago, but now that he knew what awaited him…
It wasn't Hell itself that bothered him. Dean had known what the penalty was going to be for his deal. Fire and brimstone, torture for eternity; that he'd been prepared for. To eventually come back as a demon, however, as one of those assholes he and the rest of his family had spent their lives trying to destroy, that was unbearable.
Despair washed over him. Bobby had nothing. The Watcher had nothing. The so-called benevolent demon had nothing. Out there in the big wide world there was most likely… nothing.
"Dean, you're up! How do you feel?"
Crap. Sam. Way too intuitive, much too observant Sam. Time to smile. "Like shit."
"Yeah, that was a stupid question."
"What the fuck happened to you?"
Chagrined, Sam rubbed the back of his head and looked away. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure. I got the food, was heading back to the car, then nothing."
Dean finally found something amusing about the whole situation. His hoarse chuckle caused Sam to move from contrite to irritated. "What?"
"Dude. You, like, full on had a girl inside you for like a whole day." Dean managed to snicker a bit more before his wounds made it too painful. "That's pretty naughty."
Apparently while Buffy was embroiled in a fight with Angelus, Ruby had arrived with the boxes she promised; around two dozen metal hinged rectangles resembling jewelry keepers that had been inscribed with both magical sigils and devil's traps. They then stuffed as much of the damp pieces of the Judge as possible within them and left the rest in a shipping crate. Before vanishing, Ruby reclaimed the boxes and said some were going into the Sahara and the rest into the Mariana Trench.
Xander and Oz left shortly afterwards in order to return the rocket launcher (their plan to do so without being caught was vague at best; it almost sounded as if they'd intended to just toss the box over the fence) which meant that Sam was the only one left to drive everyone else home. When he objected to Buffy staying alone with Dean, she pointed out that in no circumstances would the eldest brother allow anyone but Sam drive the Impala, particularly without permission.
Fortunately the emergency responders arrived after the others had driven off and they were too concerned with Dean's injuries to ask questions. Sam joined Buffy at the hospital after his errand. The two of them then, as their elder brother had assumed, eschewed sleep until the doctors assured them that Dean would (eventually) be fine.
Upon receiving word that Dean was conscious, the doctor came by to check in on his patient. When he informed the siblings that the eldest of them might have to stay for possibly two weeks or more, all three nodded and commiserated. As soon as he was gone, Dean promptly stated, "Nope. Not gonna happen."
"I don't know, Dean," Sam said doubtfully. His brother scowled.
Buffy, however, gave him her most frighteningly sweet smile. "Sure. Just get on your feet and we'll head out."
Determinedly, Dean slid one leg towards the side of the bed. That was as far as he got before his eyes widened in alarm. Smugly, Buffy wondered, "Problem?"
"Dean," Sam said cautiously, "if you're in too much pain—"
"That ain't it!" their brother snapped.
Sam and and his sister exchanged puzzled glances before focusing back on Dean. "Then what is it?" asked Buffy.
The eldest of them brought his leg back to its previous position. He squirmed a bit before mumbling, "I'll stay for now."
"Why the change of heart?" asked Sam.
"Because I'm hooked up to a freaking catheter, alright? Unless one of you…"
"No," Dean's brother stated firmly.
"Hell no," his sister added.
Dean ended up stuck for at least the next few hours. He was unable to charm, annoy, or threaten a nurse into removing the offending item from his genitalia. Each attempt caused his siblings to fall further and further into hysterics until he threatened to shave both of them bald if they didn't shut up and go away.
As they were exiting the hospital, Buffy got a text. "Giles wants to see us in the library."
"He knows how to text?"
"Nah, it's from Willow. Who is apparently getting all my homework for me. Yippee."
Sam unlocked the Impala and they sat inside. "Won't you get in trouble for skipping out?"
"Mom called and told them what happened. Sort of."
"Speaking of," said Sam as he started the engine, "what did you tell her?"
"Mugger. Dean was stupid. The usual."
The pair rode in silence for several blocks. Finally, as they were approaching the high school, Sam asked, "Are you ever going to tell her?"
"Tell her what, who, huh?"
"Your mom. Are you ever going to tell her what's really going on?"
As the Impala came to a halt, Sam looked at his sister expectantly. Buffy lifted her eyebrows in response. "Would you?"
Sam sighed. "It was different with us. Dad was, you know, the beginning of it all anyways. Plus we never stayed long enough anywhere for it to be an issue. Buffy, you live here now and you're not going anywhere anytime soon. She's got to know something's up."
"I know, I know. It's just…" Buffy let out a sigh of her own. "What if she can't take it? What if it freaks her out so much that she wants me gone?"
"You really think that would happen?" her brother scoffed.
"Who knows. It's not like there's the Dummies Guide to Telling Your Mom You Kill Monsters or anything."
The two checked for Snyder, got the all clear, and hurried to the library. When they entered, they found Giles doing an amazingly normal librarian task: helping a student find a non-supernatural related book. The Watcher gave them a significant glance before returning to his duties.
Sam and Buffy sat at the center table to wait. "What do you think this is about?" Sam wondered quietly.
"Dunno. But I do know Giles faces. Whatever it is isn't good."
They waited patiently for the librarian for complete the transaction. When the girl finally left, he approached. The grave expression on his face was obvious even to Sam.
"I finally received a call from the Council this morning regarding Kendra," the Watcher said gently. "Buffy, your friend was killed the day she left."
"What?" the Slayer exclaimed.
"Her next two successors were found murdered as well: a Shawna McAdams from Cleveland and a Kiko Munekawa in Kyoto. For safety reasons it has been decided that the identity of the next Slayer will be kept secret from anyone other than her Watcher. Not even the Council knows who she is, only that she's been called."
"Holy crap," Sam gasped. "What happened?"
Giles gave a heavy sigh. "Both Shawna and Kiko had their throats cut. Both of their Watchers had been killed alongside them. Kendra… are you certain you want to hear this?"
"Yes," Buffy answered firmly.
"She was found at the airport, her throat also cut. The difference was that they also found a flight attendant nearby, exsanguinated."
"Vampire," Sam inferred.
"Couldn't have been Angelus," mused Buffy. "We hadn't… he hadn't come back. It had to be Drusilla."
"You sure?"
Buffy nodded at her brother. "No one else knew the second Slayer was Kendra. We don't even know if Spike survived and I guarantee you the other idiots wouldn't have had the balls."
Sam lifted his eyebrows at his sister's use of Bobby's favorite colloquialism. Her Watcher seemed equally flustered. "Regardless of their-their lack of… um… enthusiasm, I agree. That still leaves the fact that Shawna and Kiko were not killed by vampires. That makes three Slayers dead within a matter of weeks. It's unprecedented."
"Someone's out there murdering them," Sam said.
"Then why am I still alive?" asked Buffy.
"I'm not sure," Giles replied.
"Wait," Sam said cautiously, "the Slayer gets called immediately after the previous one dies, right?"
"That's correct."
"And it just keeps going and going no matter how short a time they've been, you know, super powered?"
"Yes." Giles frowned pensively. "Are you saying…?"
"I think someone's knocking off Slayers until someone specific gets called. Like, someone that they want to be the Slayer for whatever reason." Sam's eyes widened. "Dad! Down in the Master's lair! He said he was there because yellow-eyes had some plan, that Buffy had to die so it could go forward."
"It's… possible," the Watcher responded hesitantly.
"Then why am I still here?" Buffy wondered again. "Wouldn't they go through girls twice as fast if they went at it two at a time?"
Sam shrugged and shook his head. "No idea."
"Haven't the foggiest," Giles added. "I suppose we should just count our good fortune."
Buffy gave an exhausted sigh. "Well, I'm tired. Like, beyond a triple caramel mocha tired." She turned towards her brother. "Can you drive me home?"
"Sure."
It turned out that Sam was just as worn out by the previous few days as his sister. While Buffy thankfully fell into her own bed, Sam, with Jo's blessing, collapsed onto the second twin mattress in the guest room.
With the exception of Joyce, the current inhabitants of the Summers household found themselves trying their best to recuperate from the physical and mental battering of the past few days. Jo spent a good amount of time staring at Sam's back. It was one thing to tell herself that the manhandling she'd received hadn't been purposefully done; that it had been the fault of the demon that had swept down his throat. It was another to be in Sam's presence and to pretend that everything was all right.
Jo was slowly coming to the realization that her mother's attempt to protect her, as overbearing and unnecessary at it had seemed, had come from a place of ignorance and fear. Now that she knew what had truly conspired in the last moments of Bill Harvelle's life it might be time to return home. At least there she'd be granted the reprieve to digest her kidnapping and assault without having its perpetrators thrown in her face day after day. Decision made, Jo finally drifted off to sleep.
As soon as her breathing turned even and restful, Sam carefully rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He'd felt Jo's eyes burning into his back and the guilt was eating him up terribly. Stupid of him to get caught so easily like that. There had to be some sort of sigil or spell or something to prevent it from happening again. Giles would know. They'd need to get it done before they left Sunnydale so that Buffy and her gang would have the same protection available.
Flashes of the previous day kept coming to him. He felt himself pressing Jo to the bar with his body, the intent of the demon clear, before it changed its mind and smashed her head into the glass. Even then it had given thought to violating the unconscious girl just so that Sam would have to endure the consequences. He supposed that whatever sliver of humanity remained in it had decided to spare another female that singular indignity.
Meg. He remembered now. Dean had called it Meg. Talk about mistakes coming around to bite.
That was it. Sleep was out of the question. Sam slid out of bed and headed into the hallway. A delicate sniffle drifted out from his sister's room.
Buffy was doing her best not to think about Angel, but it was impossible. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. After making love for the first time there should be secret talks with girlfriends and intimate touches from the boyfriend and the feeling that an important milestone had been reached. Instead Buffy was being forced to contend with an ocean of despair, anger, and regret. She supposed that if things had gone normally wrong she'd be feeling the same, only she truly doubted any other jilted girl had to deal with a revived homicidal psychopathic vampire.
The problem was Buffy couldn't kill him. Even away from the battle, here in the realm of supposition, she couldn't do it. Inside Angelus there had to be her Angel, she was sure. Selfish though it might be, Buffy couldn't think past her love to act for the greater good.
"Buffy?" Sam called quietly. He sat on her bed as she turned over, eyes brimming with tears.
"It's my fault," she whispered. "How could I have been so stupid?"
Sam patted her gently and sighed. "I thought it was my fault, too, when Jessica died, and-and it tuned out it sort of was. But Buffy, neither of us could have known."
"Does that make it better?"
"No. But it'll help us endure."
Buffy curled up tighter under her comforter. "What am I going to do?"
"You'll live. You'll go to school, you'll do your Slayer thing, and you'll have fun with your friends. If you don't, if you just give up, then the bad guys win."
With a wry smile, Buffy sat up. "Can't have that, can we?"
Sam gave her a smile of his own. "No, we can't."
"How long are you guys going to stay?"
"We need to go soon," Sam said regretfully. "There's a hunt we need to do that's sort of on a timetable and if we miss it then we have to wait a whole year to try again."
"Wow. I didn't think monsters had scheduled visits."
"It's a ghost actually. Might be revenants. Pair of them, we think. We're going to have to see."
Buffy reached over and gave her brother a hug. "I'm going to miss you guys. Like always."
Sam squeezed her in return. "I know. We'll be back, promise."
"Both of you?"
After swallowing a rising tide of fear, Sam nodded. "Dean isn't going to Hell."
"Or if he is," Buffy added as she leaned away, "it'll be for what he's supposed to go for: lust and violence." She ran her fingers through her hair as she then asked, "Hey, you never did explain why you were late for my birthday."
Sam wiped a hand down his face. "Shit, I forgot. Buffy, there's a virus out there, demonic virus, and it's incurable far as we can tell. They call it Croatoan. It makes people violent, like, homicidal violent. All it takes is one drop of blood and you're infected. Buffy," her brother cautioned as he grasped her shoulders, "if it comes here, run. If it gets one of your friends, if it gets to your mother, kill them right away."
"Okay," Buffy replied, taken aback, "don't, like, sugar coat it or anything."
"I'm sorry, but really, it's that bad. Whole town was wiped off the map except for maybe us and a handful of people."
Buffy frowned deeply at her brother. "Not that I'm complaining, but how did you two manage to get out?"
"Almost didn't," Sam said. He put both feet on the ground and placed his elbows on his knees. "Buffy, I'm immune. What yellow-eyes did to me, it made me immune to a demonic virus. How fucked up is that?" Before his sister could react, he continued to rant. "And Dean wouldn't put me down! I remember, you know, asking him yesterday, and he wouldn't do it! Why? Why can't he see that it might be better if I weren't here?"
"Sam," Buffy replied wearily, "don't. Okay? Just… we're family, right? No matter what, that's just not something family does."
Sam linked his fingers together and gripped tight. His knuckles whitened. "Buffy. Promise me. If something happens and I turn out like Angel, you'll finish me off."
"Excuse me?"
"Dean won't do it. He'll never do it. Please. Don't let me hurt anyone else."
"No." When Sam gave her an outraged glower, Buffy scoffed, "I couldn't even kill my killer boyfriend. What makes you think I could kill my brother? You want promises like that, you go looking somewhere else."
At first Sam was inclined to argue. Then he realized the futility of the attempt and tossed it aside. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "Anyways, I better try and get a nap in at least. Much as he'll want to, I really doubt Dean will be able to drive.
As her brother headed back to the guest room, Buffy squished back into her mattress and buried herself into her comforter. Nothing Sam said had been particularly comforting, nor had they worked through any plausible solutions to their dilemmas, but for some reason she felt better all the same. She waited for several minutes and was happy to hear her brother's quiet snores coming from the other room.
Sam's road was turning dark, but for now Buffy would take heart in the fact that the three of them still had each other. She snuggled down and several seconds later was fast asleep.
Buffy was walking into a graveyard, and by the sunlight pouring down on the vampires in attendance she knew that this was another Slayer dream. This time, however, the grave was far from empty. This time, she knew that it was Dean in that coffin.
Someone placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke in her ear. The language was unfamiliar, and the words pierced her ears, but the sentiment was clear. They were trying to console her, to tell her that it was all for the best. It just made her angry.
Buffy turned to confront them and her eyes burned.
With a shriek she bolted upright from her pillow and clutched her eyes. Her mother was there a few moments later. "Buffy! Are you all right?"
Sam rushed in a second later as she was saying, "Fine, I'm fine. Sorry, bad dream."
Joyce rubbed her daughter's back gently. "Well, no wonder with all the trouble that's been going on."
"Speaking of," said Sam as he looked at his phone, "I need to go pick up Dean. Apparently he's releasing himself from the hospital."
"He'll be okay then?"
"He always is. We'll probably be heading out right after. Got a job waiting for us in Nevada."
"Well, all right." Joyce stood and gave Sam a hug and a matronly peck on the cheek. "Tell that brother of yours to take better care of himself, okay?"
"Like he ever listens to me," Sam replied jokingly. He returned her affections and she left the room. When he gave his sister an expectant look, she shrugged.
"Like I said," Buffy clarified, "bad dream."
"Yeah, okay."
Buffy ignored her brother's disbelief and bounded out of bed. She wrapped her arms around his chest and gave him her own squeeze in farewell. "Tell Dean if he gets himself killed before we can save him I'll murder him."
Sam kissed the top of her head and ruffled the blonde locks. "I'll make sure he gets the message. You tell us if things get too much around here and we'll be here as fast as we can."
"I know. Thanks, Sam."
