39
Kya was so stunned she didn't even think about standing to her full height. She remained in a crouch on the ground still trying to figure out how her dog had turned into the ghost of a man. The man in question was obviously Native American and in his early thirties. Long black hair was tied down his back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and he was characterized by deep brown eyes, the same as Buck's. Those eyes were full of wisdom and compassion, as if the all the good qualities of mankind had been permanently embedded in their depths. He stood at about 5' 8" and looked like he weighed a little over 150 lbs of lean muscle. He was dressed in the traditional garments of Native Americans, a soft deerskin long sleeve shirt embroidered with turquoise patterns and matching pants. On his feet were moccasins that drifted slightly above the cement of the parking lot.
"What the . . .What the hell?" she asked, finally gathering some of her scattered wits.
The ghost smiled. "You begged for truth. I give you truth."
She managed to stand up and face the ghost. "Who are you?"
"You know me as Buck. That is who I am."
She shook her head. "No, I meant who are you as a man?"
"I am Native American, more specifically Navajo. My name in life was Anias Buckhunter. That is where I gathered the name Buck."
She stepped back, still trying to digest all of the information. "But you were a dog. I don't understand."
"I am many things. I am whatever I wish to be. My place is at the side of good, aiding in the fight against the evil forces that plague this domain."
"So you're saying you can change into anything?" she asked.
The ghost nodded. "I am apart of all things. So it was when I died. My grandfather's magic insured that even in death I would remain to help guide those who needed it. He made me live in the forms of animals when I passed."
"I'm confused," she offered.
"My grandfather was a Shaman, a man of great wisdom and magic. He knew about the evils in the world, evils other than what mankind inflicted upon itself. When the settlers came to take our lands and eventually slaughtered our people, my grandfather searched for a way to carry on his work against the forces of evil. He was too old to cast the magic upon himself so I volunteered to take his place. When I died in battle I was brought back in ghostly form, able to take the shape of the spirits of the animals that had for so long guided my people."
"But, a Labrador?" she questioned.
The ghost laughed. "Not the most mystical among the animals of our people, nor even an animal that our people respected and valued. But in this day and time I had to adapt and take the form of something that people would trust. I am usually at the side of a Hunter, like yourself, a player in the great game of the cosmos. However, I chose to remain at Hunter's side simply because somebody had to watch him and thwart his evils where they could be."
"So, now you've done that job, where will you go?" she asked.
The ghost looked at her intensely. "With you, of course. I was drawn to you when first you appeared and so I shall not leave. It is the way it was supposed to be."
Kya drew back, one eyebrow raised. "I'm not a Hunter. I was just . . .just in this for my cousin."
"You are," the ghost countered. "You have stepped through a doorway that you cannot turn back from. Your powers were meant for the greater good of the world and that is something you know in your heart. You cannot turn your back on the side that needs your allegiance."
She stopped, realizing that the ghost was right. Before she had only gotten involved when necessary, choosing to remain neutral most of the time in the battle that was constantly at played between good and evil. Now, however, after all that had happened she knew that would no longer be the case.
"So you've just up and decided that you're staying with me," she clarified, still trying to let the situation sink in.
Buck nodded. "In whatever form you wish, wherever you choose to go, I am connected to you now and neither one of us can change the course of fate."
She nodded slowly. "Okay, well, that's fine. No fate changing. But somebody's bound to notice a ghost floating in the parking lot sooner or later."
She watched as the ghost shifted back down, mutating again into the form of the black Labrador that she had found that day on the porch. It sank in that he had told her she could choose his form, but for now having the Lab at her side was more comforting than asking him to change into a guinea pig.
She raised one eyebrow at the intelligent dog. "You couldn't have done that trick when I was trying to get you off the property on a freakin motorcycle?"
She swore that Buck smiled at her. Sighing she lead the way back into the motel room where Dean was laying back against the headboard of the bed and flipping lazily through channels. Sam was hard at work on his laptop, furiously clicking away at the keys.
"What were you doing out there?" Dean asked.
"Finding out that my dog is a ghost," she told him.
Both boys looked up at her in shock and surprise. "What?"
She smiled and sat down on Sam's bed while Buck took his place at her feet. She reached a hand down and idly scratched the silken fur of his head. She quickly explained what had transpired outside while the Winchesters listened intently.
"Well," Sam said when she had finished. "I knew there was something weird about that dog."
Dean seemed to be mulling it over. "So, does he eat Kibbles?"
Kya stood next to her bike and tried not to pay attention to the falcon in the boughs of the tree overhead. It looked like she wasn't going to need a car after all; Buck could just follow her on high.
"You should have him turn into a crow," Dean told her. "Paint your face all black and white."
She laughed. "I don't think that look would work for me."
He shrugged. "You never know."
She watched Sam load up the last of the gear into the back of the Impala. She had already said her goodbyes to the youngest Winchester. She could tell by the look in Dean's eyes that he really didn't want her to go. But her road lay elsewhere, somewhere over the horizon, designated by the hand of fate that she couldn't see. And if fate decreed they would cross paths again.
She leaned forward and grabbed Dean's waist with one arm, the back of his neck with the other. Before he could speak again she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him with the fire and passion that drove her life in all other areas. He gave in to the moment, wrapping her smaller frame in his arms and kissing her back with an equal amount of fire.
"I gotta go, Dean," she said, finally breaking the kiss.
He sighed and released her. "I know."
He turned as Sam pointedly got into the passenger side of the car. He turned back to Kya who was climbing on her bike while Buck anxiously ruffled his feathers in the tree overhead. She kicked the stand that held the bike upright and fit the helmet over her head. Dean stepped back as she started the bike.
"You think we'll see each other again?" he asked, speaking louder to be heard over the purr of her engine.
She turned to face him, eyes unreadable through the black plating on her helmet. He imagined that they were sparkling, lit from the depths by the heart of fire within.
"Count on it," she told him. "It's fate."
Dean climbed into the driver's side of the Impala after Kya had gone and sat for a moment, doing nothing but staring at the empty highway ahead.
"We could go after her," Sam offered.
Dean smiled, thinking back on all the times in different towns that he had offered Sam the same thing. He knew Kya had been right. They would cross paths again, eventually. He, Sam and his father were a family, to be sure. But the extended network of hunters like them all over the planet was another family, a family that stuck together and never left anybody out.
Dean shook his head and started the car.
"Nope," he told his brother.
Sam looked back to the road ahead. "You good?"
Dean though about it for a minute, thought about Kya, thought about the next job, the next thrill. He smiled as he pulled the Impala onto the highway. He left the small Texas town in his rearview mirror, the car sailing down the road, glistening in the afternoon sun. The road ahead was clear and he thought about what hand fate would bring him next. Faith. Fire. Passion. It drove him. It pushed him ever onward, lighting his way through the shadows that surrounded him. He nodded to himself, to his life, to his future. Sam looked at his brother and shook his head, returning his attention to his laptop. As the car disappeared over the horizon from view of the town Dean answered his brother's question by sliding on a pair of sunglasses and leaning back in the drivers seat with a smile on his face.
"Always."
