Chapter 17

As soon as the light abated, Dean sought out Buffy. She was convulsing on the ground, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, with only the whites showing. He crawled towards her, his heart in his stomach.

"Grab him!" Willow commanded. Dean felt tight arms circle him, gripping his body into place.

"Let go of me!" He demanded, thrashing for all his worth.

"Can't do that, mate," an English accent sounded in his ear, "Buffy has got to concentrate, can't have you distracting her." Spike lifted him off the ground and onto his feet, but still kept a tight hold on Dean.

Dean turned his head towards Willow, who had begun to chant, the Horseman's rings in her hands. "What's happening?" He demanded. She looked irritably in his direction but continued to chant, wholly ignoring him.

Dean gritted his teeth and looked back at Buffy. During his life, Dean had witnessed a lot of things that tore him apart. His brother dying, his father's spirit, and countless bodies of the people he couldn't save. Somehow, this hurt more than all of them combined. The woman he loved on the floor, painfully becoming the meat puppet of Lucifer.

Her convulsing hadn't abated, if anything she was shaking harder. Her nose and ears had started to bleed, running rivers down her already sweating face.

"What's happening to her?" Dean all but screamed.

"She's trying to fight 'im off," Spike explained quietly, his voice catching.

Buffy stood in a white room.

Turning around, she realised that the word room was inadequate. The space around her was vast and endless. She felt no surface under her feet, or air on her face. The laws of physics were suspended here. Not all laws of life were suspended, however. She felt a deep pressure against her body, as if she was being stretched and pulled. Her awareness came back suddenly, and for a moment, she thought she had succumbed to death in her struggle against the Devil. That thought was proven false when she heard an angry voice.

"What are you doing?" The voice demanded. She looked around, trying to find the source, but had no luck.

Still looking, she saw a ripple. A pulsating ball of white light, almost identical to the rest of the space if not for its shiny texture, shimmered close to her. The shape changed form, becoming the vessel of Lucifer. His face was enraged, "I'll ask again. What are you doing?" He spat through gritted teeth.

Buffy smiled, realising where they were. She'd done it! She had locked him in her mind, stopping him from gaining control. "Um," She began, purposely infuriating him, "defeating you?"

Lucifer smiled, but the rage he obviously felt made it come out more like a snarl, "You think you'll be able to keep me here forever?" He laughed darkly, "You're strong, Buffy, I'll give you that, but you can't last against me. You've always been mentally weak." He emphasised the last word, throwing her insecurities back at her.

She smiled brightly, "Oh, I know. But I don't need to last forever. I just need to last, oh," She paused dramatically, "About ten minutes."

Shock and fear crossed Lucifer's face, but then a viscous smile replaced it. He came towards her, hands clenched, "I can do a lot of damage in ten minutes."

Buffy's smile dropped as the first punch landed.

Willow had finished the spell to open the Devil's box, just as red marks started to appear on Buffy's face and body.

"What's happening to her?" Dean asked, panic thick in his voice, "What are those marks?"

Willow's eyebrows crinkled, "I don't know," She sounded worried, but raised her arm that held the conduit, "She's holding the Devil captive in her mind, who knows what that's doing to her," She said, almost as if thinking aloud. She opened to mouth continue when a sickening crunch and spray of blood gushed from Buffy's nose. Willow's eyes widened, shocked at the vicious wounds that were beginning to spread across Buffy's body.

"I-I can't waste any more time," She mumbled, and then began to chant strongly, holding the conduit high as she did so. As the Latin chant fell from her lips, the conduit began to shine, pulsating with a bright, candescent light. It formed a beam, shining in the direction of the circle of magic users that had been formed outside. The beam circled Willow as she chanted, giving her a white haze that made her seem ethereal.

It was in that moment that Sam began to stir.

"Sammy," Dean grunted, trying to move towards his brother before remembering he was being held in a tight grip. Turning his head to slightly face Spike, he asked, "Could you let go? I just wanna check on Sam."

Spike hesitated, so Dean added, "I'm not gunna touch Buffy, I just wanna check on my brother." Letting Dean go, Spike walked over to the window, watching the conduits beam as it touched the group outside.

"We've got incoming demons," Spike stated, "I'm gunna go help. If they break into that circle, we're all buggered." He moved to the door, before turning to Dean, "Salt up the entries after I leave. We gotta protect the witches, no matter what." Dean nodded in his direction, watching him leave.

He moved quickly, salting the door and window.

"Ugh, what happened?" Sam asked, leaning up onto his elbows.

"You're alright," Dean said consolingly, sitting down on his haunches to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Di-Did Buffy hit me?" Sam asked incredulously, putting a hand to his aching head.

"Yeah," Dean replied dumbly, not sure how to explain. He found he didn't need to when Sam surveyed the room, taking in the sight of the seizing Buffy on the ground.

"Woah!" He exclaimed, jumping up. He immediately regretted that decision as a wave of dizziness overcame him. It was only with the help of Dean that he managed to stay standing, "What's happening?" He asked weakly.

"She said yes," Dean replied bluntly, "Other than that, I don't really know."

Sam looked shocked, "She's fighting him off," He said quietly, watching as her body began to shake harder.

Faith swang the Scythe in a huge arc, watching as the two demons sparked and then fell to the ground. She pushed aside the feeling of guilt at the sight of the two dead bodies on the ground. They were probably long dead before they came here, but it didn't make her feel any better. They were still human, and she just sliced them apart.

The sound of gunshots brought her back to the fight. She looked over at Bobby, noticing he was about to become overrun with the demons coming up on his side. Before she could move to help, she saw Spike run into the fray, tackling two of the demons, punching into them as they fell.

Bobby grunted his thanks at the vampire, reloading his shot gun, and aiming to fend off the demon coming up behind Spike. "We can't keep this up forever," He grunted out. His salt round hit the demon square in the chest, sending him back screaming in pain.

"Speak for yourself," Faith joked, falling back on her tough persona as she massacred the bodies of three more humans. Demons, she reminded herself grimly, as she spun and kicked another demon in the chest.

Castiel flew through the air, taking an uppercut from a grinning demon infested woman. As he rolled, the woman was pushed back by a shock gun blast from Bobby.

Sitting up and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, Castiel looked up at the light shining from the building, to the group they were protecting, "Bobby is right. If they don't hurry, we will be overrun."

Spike picked up Castiel's dropped gun, and moved over to hand it to him, "We'll make do," he said gravely, "We gotta trust in Willow and Buffy."

Faith nodded, running forward to head off another attack. A large demon came at her with a long and wicked looking knife. It had jagged edges, designed to cause as much damaged to a person's flesh as possible. Using its height to its advantage, the demon slashed downwards, clumsy but deadly with the strength it used. Faith quickly whipped up the Scythe, blocking the downward stroke and kicking the demon in the stomach. When it doubled over, Faith beat the weapon into the side of the demon's head, effectively knocking it to the ground.

Breathing heavily, Faith moved towards Bobby, lending a hand in fighting the demons that were getting closer to the older hunter.

"You really think they got this?" Bobby grunted out.

"I've seen them work miracles. If anyone is going to get us out of this, it's Buffy and Willow."

Bobby grunted in response, shotting a demon that was trying to creep up behind Faith.

Finding herself without any opponents for the moment, Faith glanced towards the magic users they were protecting. Each of their mouths were moving, all in unison as they chanted. They also all shared the same expression of effort and strain. Their faces were becoming red and sweaty, showing the effort they were all putting in.

Faith felt herself become worried. They had only been chanting for minutes. If Buffy and Willow didn't hurry, these witches wouldn't last, and they'd lose the circle of power.

Knowing there was nothing could do for the magic circle, Faith went back to what she could do, beating back the demons.

Buffy rolled, her body aching in every way possible. She spat out the blood that had begun to pool in her cheek. Pushing herself up, she turned to face Lucifer with a crimson grin, "So what are you angrier about? Being tricked or trapped?"

He growled as he stomped over to her, hitting her stomach with a solid uppercut. She doubled over, letting out a painful breath of air.

"You did not trick me," He spat out, "and I won't be trapped for much longer."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," She said, still doubled over, "And I totally tricked you."

He punched her in the side of the head, sending her back to the ground.

"I knew what you were doing," Lucifer replied, sounding completely childish, even to him.

Buffy coughed out a laugh, splattering blood as she did so, "Oh right, that's why you took the first opportunity I gave you. You barely gave a moment of hesitation before taking me up on the offer."

"Tricked or not, I can admit I didn't expect this," he replied tersely, waving his hands to indicate the white space around them.

Buffy rolled over to her back, "It's the hair," She explained weakly, "No one expects a blonde to be tricky."

"Or it could be your attitude, the way you speak, the way you talk, or the many other ways in which you're completely stupid," Lucifer said, venom thick in his voice.

"Ouch," Buffy said, putting a hand to her chest in mock hurt. "Those are some big words for a guy who is trapped inside my brain right now."

She received a kick in the side of her stomach that sent her rolling. She grunted in pain, praying that Willow wouldn't take much longer.

Sam watched the battle from the window, cringing as his friends were battered by the increasing amount of demons surrounding them.

He turned from the window, "We should help them." Dean was kneeling beside Buffy's body, being careful not to touch her, but unable to move away.

Willow didn't stop her chanting but locked her eyes with Sam's and shook her head violently. Her face look strained as she continued to speak. Sam moved closer, trying to overhear her chanting in hopes of understanding the spell she was using. He shook his head in futility. She wasn't speaking Latin anymore, having switched to what seemed to be Enochian.

"We have to stay to protect Willow," Dean explained, not taking his eyes off Buffy, "If she goes down, this was all for nothing."

Almost on cue, a rattling came from the room's door. Sam turned, realising someone was trying to enter. Willow looked at him in panic, the veins in her head enlarged by the strain she was putting into the spell.

Sam closed his eyes, concentrating. He raised an arm at the door, and pulled. He gritted his teeth as the essence in the demons resisted his powers. He had drunk the blood hours ago, and his head still ached from being punched. He bit into his lip, doubling his efforts. He felt his brain strain at the difficulty, but was soon rewarded with the sound of bodies dropping on the other side. Exhausted, he sat on the closest chair, hunching over.

"Damn, Sammy," Dean said from his position on the floor. He had a small strained smile on his face.

Too tired to respond, Sam shrugged modestly.

The sound of Buffy's thrashing and Willow's chanting became loud, as Willow began to crumble under the strain of the spell. She crashed to her knees, her chanting beginning to come out between clenched teeth.

The building around them began to shake as Willow's voice rose to a near shout. The Winchesters watched as Willow's hair began to change. It switched between black, white, and her natural red.

Willow clenched her eyes shut as she continued to chant. She began to feel the spell take effect as Buffy stopped her thrashing.

Dean felt relief at the sight, but it wasn't long lasting. Lying on her back, Buffy's chest rose, as if being pulled off the ground. Her mouth opened, and an ear piercing shriek erupted from her mouth.

Buffy dodged the next punch, lashing out her leg in a snap kick, taking Lucifer at the back of the knee. He barely stumbled as he swung another punch. He didn't fight with the grace that Buffy did, but he didn't need to. He used raw strength, and it was working.

Hurting in every way possible, Buffy spun away from his attack. She may be bruised, battered, and fighting an Archangel, but she was still the Slayer.

Lucifer growled in frustration. Before she could react, he moved close to her and wrapped his hands around her throat. Buffy punched and scratched, but he wouldn't loosen his grip. He smiled as her fighting weakened.

It wasn't long before Buffy felt herself becoming faint. Her eyes started to flicker, and her hands fell to her sides. As the last bit of air left her lungs, Buffy felt tremors rake through her body. Thinking it was a bout of shivering before death, Buffy squeezed out a tear, feeling in the depths of her soul that she had failed.

The shaking intensified, and she felt herself being dropped to the ground. Before passing out, she saw a flicker of fear cross Lucifers face.

Her chanting never faulting, Willow lifted the conduit high, and pointed it towards Buffy. With one last word of power from Willow, the staff shined bright enough to sting the Winchester's eyes.

A beam of light shined onto Buffy's body, making her candescent. The screaming cut off, as another source of light left her body. The staff's glow, slightly creamier than the one within Buffy, surrounded and embraced the light that left her.

The bright white light was trapped and pulsated constantly, pushing at the seams of its captor. With a shaking hand, Willow moved the conduit from Buffy's body, taking the light away from her, and pushing it toward the portal that the Horseman's rings had made. Willow strained under the pressure, her hands shaking and beads of sweat covering her forehead.

It took only moments, but seemed to last hours as Willow moved her arm.

With a sigh of relief, she pushed the bright light into the portal. With a few quick words, she muttered the incantation that kept the portal open. With a quick snap it closed.

Willow crashed to the ground, breathing raggedly and deeply. Her hand opened, the conduit rolling out of her palm.

Sam walked over, and leaned down, looking at Willow in concern, "you alright?"

Not being able to form words, she nodded weakly. Sam bent down to pick up the conduit but yelped, almost dropping it, when it almost burned a mark in his palm. Looking down at Willow's palm, he saw a bloody burn.

He helped her up into a chair, and gave her a cloth to wipe the blood off her face, and another to wrap her hand. "You did it," Sam said with a large smile.

Willow smiled, but it came out as a grimace, the pain and effort evident on every movement she made. "Buffy did it," She replied gruffly, looking over at her friend. As soon as she did, her smile fell. Panic quickly filled her face. She tried to move towards her but found her legs unresponsive. She would have fallen if Sam hadn't caught her.

"Woah," he said pulling her into his arms. He looked in the direction she was staring, and almost dropped her.

Dean was crumpled over Buffy's body. He sobbed as he clutched at her, holding her as close as possible.

Carefully placing Willow back in the chair, Sam hurried over to the couple. "Dean?" He asked carefully, trying to pull his brother back.

"Buffy!" Dean cried out, resisting his brother, and pushing him away.

"Is she-?" Sam began to ask, not being able to finish his sentence.

"No heartbeat," Dean managed to choke out.

"Dean, please, let me look at her," Sam begged.

"You can't bring back the dead, Sammy," Dean replied gruffly, but moved back. He looked down at Buffy, lost.

"We're proof that's not true," Sam joked weakly, leaning down and checking Buffy's pulse. He waited an excoriating long time, not feeling anything. He was about to give up when he felt a weak push against his fingers.

"There's a pulse!" He practically yelled, starting CPR. "Dean, get the car, we need to get her to a Hospital."

Dean sat in the same chair he had been in for the last two weeks. Sammy brought him food, and the small room had an adjoining bathroom, he had everything he needed. He wasn't going to leave until she woke up.

The Institutes doctors couldn't do anything for her. She had been drained of anything even resembling a life force.

When they had brought her in, the bruises had covered her body. She had multiple broken bones, ribs, legs, a fractured cheek bone, as well as a dislocated shoulder. Since being hospitalised, they had all healed. She looked perfectly healthy, but she still wouldn't wake up.

Willow couldn't do anything for her. She said that even if magic could do something, she was too drained to even attempt it. Turns out, replicating God's work wasn't easy. She'd been walking around like a zombie since the big spell, looking wane and pale. But at least she was awake.

Sighing, Dean leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face with his hands. Looking back at the woman he loved, he felt hollow. She saved the world, and this is what she got for it, a hospital bed.

"I should never have come here," Dean croaked out, speaking to no one but the unconscious girl in front of him, "I should never have pushed my way into your life." He paused, as if expecting a reply. He shook his head at his own stupidity and sat back in his chair. "You never would have been pulled into this mess. You would have been safe." A tear fell down his face. He scrubbed it away furiously. If he had been in his right mind, he would have realised that the head of the Slayer Institute would never have been untouched by the Apocalypse, but after weeks of watching Buffy lay lifeless, Dean was far from a right mind. "Everything I touch turns to shit." He spat out angrily. More tears came now, "Dad died coz of me, Sam dropped out of school and lost his girl, and now you." He shook his head in frustration, "It shouldn't have been you!" He shouted, feeling useless and lost.

She didn't flinch, and although he hated himself for it, he felt disappointment well up in his chest.

"Are you even in there?" He whispered, his voice broken and shaky, "Can you hear me?" His voice cracked in the last, tears spilling faster now. He bowed his head in grief, before shotting it back up with a moment of panic.

His mind raced. What if she wasn't there? What if Willow's spell dragged her into Lucifer's cage? That had been Sam's plan, jumping into the box with Lucifer riding shotgun. Maybe the spell had backfired, taking Buffy's soul or essence or whatever with him. Dean's chest tightened at the thought, dread spreading through him.

Looking back at Buffy, he knew he couldn't sit around any longer. He gave her hands a quick squeeze, and turned away, his mind hastily putting together a plan.

Before logic could rear its head and stop him, Dean leapt from his chair and was rushing to his car. He checked to see if he had the right ingredients and pulled out a local map. He found a crossroads, and rushed to the driver's side, not pausing to think his plan through.

He was getting Buffy back.

Sam carried the coffee carefully, not trusting his still shaky hands. His choice to drink demon blood had seemed like a good one at the time, and it had certainly helped in defeating Lucifer, but it had come at a cost. His body was still recovering from the brutal come down.

Walking through the sterilised halls of the Institute's medical facilities, he had mixed emotions. He hated the pain his brother was in, hated that one of the best people he knew was wasting away in a coma, but he couldn't help the joy he felt knowing Lucifer was locked away. That particular thought brought an oily feeling of guilt to roll in his stomach as he arrived at Buffy's room. Watching his brother slowly break over the last couple of weeks had been heartbreaking. Sam worried what would happen to Dean's mental health if Buffy didn't make it.

With that bleak thought, Sam pushed the door open, "I got you coffee," he announced, before realising the only occupant was the unconscious girl. Confused, Sam put the coffees down, and moved over to the small bathroom.

"Dean?" He called, knowing it was pointless. The rooms weren't big enough for Dean to be hiding somewhere.

"Dean," A meek voice copied, causing Sam to whip around.

Mouth gaping, Sam moved over to stand beside Buffy's bed. He watched as her closed eyes flickered, moving rapidly.

"Buffy?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to raise his hopes.

Her eyes opened slowly, looking around the room unfocused. Her brows crinkled in confusion, but it soon smoothed out as her gaze turned to him, "Dean?" She croaked out, her eyes still clouded.

Sam smiled widely, "Its Sam," he said gently, leaning to get the water that had been left at her bedside table. He pulled its straw to her mouth, allowing her a small sip. Not knowing if any more water would be good for her, he moved it away and back on the bedside table.

"What happened?" She croaked out again, trying to lift herself up.

Sam put his hands up in a stalling motion, "Whoa there, let me get the nurse before you do anymore moving."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but stayed still as he moved to the door. That expression more than anything swelled his chest. She was okay. He smiled widely as he opened the door, "She's awake!" He called down the hall, knowing the nurse wouldn't need any further explanation.

The nurse raced in, matching his smile. She quickly checked Buffy's vitals, and declared her fit and healthy, but still hospitalised until further tests could be done. After she rushed out of the room, it wasn't long before Sam heard her voice on the intercom, calling Willow and Dawn to the medical facilities.

Sitting in the chair next to Buffy's bed, Sam couldn't wipe the smile off his face, "you had us all worried."

"Sorry about that," She replied dryly, "Where's Dean?" She asked the question so abruptly, it was obvious she had been sitting on it for the fifteen minutes she had been awake.

The smile slipped off Sam's face as confusion replaced it, "I really don't know. He hasn't left this room in two weeks." He pulled his cell phone out from his jean's pocket.

"Typical," Buffy snorted, causing Sam to smile again. He began to call Dean as Willow and Dawn rushed into the room. Giving them space, Sam walked out into the hall, as the call when to voicemail, "Dude, where are you?" He hung up, and tried calling again. He frowned when it went to voicemail quicker than it should have.

His confusion ebbed as worry started to replace it. Dean wouldn't have left Buffy's side without good reason, and as far as Dean was concerned, there was no good reason. Sam's stomach clenched as a horrible thought came to mind. Racing through the halls, he started to swear.

Within minutes he was at Faith's door, banging loudly. He heard some unladylike words from the other side of the door before it opened. "What?" She demanded angrily, her wrinkled shirt explaining why. She had been asleep.

"I need a lift, and a map," Sam rushed out, trying to ignore Faith's lack of pants.

Her brow crinkled, but the urgency in his voice caused her to search for her jeans, "A lift? I only got my bike."

"Great, we need to move quick."

Faith looked at him in worry, but nodded. She went to her bedside table, and grabbed her phone, opening the map and handing it to Sam. He smiled a quick tight smile in her direction, and then moved towards the door. "C'mon," he said, rushing towards the school's parking lot.

As they jogged to her bike, Faith looked around, "Where's the Impala?"

"Dean has it," He explained bluntly, not wanting to waste time on explanations.

Faith mounted the bike, with Sam trying to tuck his lanky body behind her.

"He left Buffy's room?" She asked, surprise thick in her voice, "He hasn't left her side in weeks, why now?"

"To do something stupid."

Dean sat in the Impala, thinking over his decision. He felt a great weight on his shoulders, knowing the kind of torment this will bring Buffy. He felt it when his dad had died, and he knew Sammy had taken it just as hard.

He tried to put himself in Buffy's shoes, tried to reason with his decision, tried to make himself turn around and go back to the Institute. At the end of the day, he was selfish. He didn't want to live in a world without Buffy, not again. Not while she could be rotting in Hell with Lucifer as a roomie. He couldn't live with that reality.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by the vibration coming from his jean's pocket. Pulling the phone out, he saw Sammy's name on the display and sighed. He rejected the call for the seventh time, and climbed out of the car.

He went to the car boot, opened it and grabbed the ingredients he would need. With a resined sigh, he gathered a photo of himself, some graveyard dirt and the bones of a cat. He had to make a quick stop at an occult store for the last one. With all hesitation gone, Dean put the items in a little box, and moved over to the middle of the crossroad.

Bending down, he used his hands to dig a little hole in the ground, and put the box in. He had only just buried his items when the demon appeared. Dean turned, and found himself facing a pretty brunette woman, who was grinning wickedly.

"Dean Winchester," the demon stated, joy filling it's voice. "It's an honour."

"I'm sure it is," He spat out gruffly, "I want a deal."

The demon started to circle him, making a tsk noise. Looking him up and down, the demon paused in front of him, looking up with a seductive look in its eyes, "You've played this game before, Dean. It didn't end well for anyone."

"I don't care. I want Buffy back. Give me a year, a month, whatever, I don't care. Just bring her back."

The demon looked confused for a second, before being replaced with realisation. A smug smile came over its face, "You want your pet Slayer back? I'm sure that can be arranged."

Dean felt hope rise in his chest, "Okay," he breathed out, feeling like it's the first clear breath he had taken in weeks, "how long?"

It smiled widely, "Now."

Shocked, Dean could only gape.

The demon lifted its shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, "A Slayer is a big deal, Dean, but the Slayer? That's gunna cost. You have a one way ticket, leaving immediately, or the Slayer stays where she is. The choice is yours."

Dean mind spun. He had wanted a chance to say goodbye, tell her how much he loved her. A chance to say goodbye to Sam. He almost felt his resolve crumble, when the demon spoke up.

"Take your time," it said sarcastically, "A second for you, is how long for her? Hell moves awfully fast, Deano. I'm sure daddy is taking real good care of her." Its smile was vicious.

"Okay," Dean said, leaning down to seal the deal with a kiss. Before he had moved half an inch, the sound of screeching tyres was met with the sound of a gunshot. The demon sparked red, and then fell to the ground.

Shocked, Dean spun around, just in time to be pushed to the ground. Sam stood over him, Colt in his hand, and his face thunderous, "What are you doing?"

Dean jumped up to his feet quickly, and pushed his brother back, causing him to step back, "What do you think?" He shouted with anger. "I can't do it, Sam! I can live while she's dead, while her mind is stuck with the Devil, her body lying lifeless on a hospital bed. She deserves better!"

"She does!" Sam shouted back, "She deserves better than to wake up and find you dead, or on the way to it. How could you do this? Again?"

Dean paused, hearing the pain in his brother's voice. "I'm sorry Sam, but I can't do it. I can't lose her."

Sam looked at his brother. He was broken, barely holding on. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with loss and heartbreak. "You're an idiot," Sam said bluntly.

Dean looked at him hurt and angry, "I get it, alright, I'm selfish, I'm an asshole, bu-"

"You are an asshole, but that's not what I meant. Buffy's awake. She woke up about half an hour ago. If you had answered you're phone, you would have known that."

Dean stood speechless. He was staring at Sam in shock, obviously having difficulty processing the news. Suddenly, he took off towards the car. Without even looking, the got in the driver's seat and took off.

Sam scoffed in irritation, annoyed at his brother, but it quickly turned to a smile.

Moving back to Faith, he paused at the look on her face, "B is awake?" She asked with anger in her voice, "you didn't think to mention it?

"Faith," Sam begun, guilt creeping into the word, "I'm sorry, I ju-"

She put her hand up to stall him, "I get it, you needed to hurry," she said, waving a hand towards the crossroads, "You coulda still told me."

"I know, I'm sorry," Sam said again.

"Alright," Faith nodded, moving back to the bike, "Let's go see B."

Dean ran through the halls, barely remembering the drive back. It had all been done in a haze as a singular thought took over his mind.

Buffy is awake. Buffy is awake. Buffy is awake.

It's all he could think as he rushed to be by her side.

He got to the door, and skidded into the room. Breathing heavily, all he could do is stare.

Buffy had been smiling at Dawn as he entered, the brightness of it causing tears to form in his eyes. The air left him in a rush as relief, joy, and wonder filled him. She looked in his direction, and her smile widened.

He moved towards her on autopilot, barely registering it until he was at her side. He slid into the chair that had been his home for the past two weeks. He grabbed her hand with both his hands, and moved it to his lips. He gave it a kiss, and felt a small tear leak out.

He'd been so absorbed in her; he hadn't even noticed the others leave the room.

"Buffy," he breathed out quietly, scared that he would wake up and find out this was a dream.

"Hey," She said. She cringed, and gave him an apologetic smile, "That was so lame. I'm in a coma for two weeks, and the only thing I can think to say is 'hey'. Maybe all this sleep rattled my brain."

Dean grinned, "I think your brain is about the same."

She gave him a side eye, "I hope that isn't an insult. I did just wake up from a coma, you're meant to be nice to me."

He chuckled, and leaned over to kiss her. It was sweet, gentle, and chaste, but it filled him with more life than any other kiss could.

Buffy smiled sweetly as he pulled back an inch. It slipped as she covered her mouth, making a squeak noise, "I must have the morning breath of all morning breath. No more kissage until I get my hands on some mouth wash."

Dean laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. He couldn't believe she was here, using her weird Buffy words and worrying about bad breath.

"Where were you?" She asked, no accusation in her voice, only curiousity, "The others said you've be practically living in that chair, but when I wake up, you're MIA."

He looked at his hands, which were still covered in dirt. Reflexively, he tried to move them from hand, but she quickly held on. She looked down at his hands in confusion, looking back at him, "Gardening?" She asked disbelief in her voice.

Dean felt a flash of guilt go through him, and hoped it didn't show on his face. By Buffy's reaction, he knew it had.

"What did-" She started to asked, before suspicion crept through her. "Dean, where were you?" She asked, her voice dropping all hints of jest, and becoming hard as steel.

He looked at her for a moment, and considered lying. The hardness of her eyes changed his mind, "I went to a crossroads."

She pulled her hand out of his, "You tried to sell your soul," She said in an almost whisper, "Tried to trade yourself for me. You idiot!"

He flinched at the sound in her voice, "I know," he replied glumly.

"How could you do that to me?" She asked, anger in her voice, "How could you let me live, knowing I would be the reason you were dead." She smacked him in the arm, hard.

"Ow!" He rubbed the spot, looking all the while like a petulant child.

"I can't believe you," She said, crossing her arms.

He sighed deeply, and rubbed his face with a hand, "I can't say I'm sorry, Buff. It would be a lie. I thought you were stuck in Hell with Lucifer. I would sell my soul a thousand times over to keep you from that."

She looked at him quietly for a moment, before turning away and taking a deep breath.

Buffy looked back at him solemnly, her eyes serious, "Our lives are hard," she started bluntly, "the things we do are dangerous, but they're necessary. If we're going to do this, be together and do the things we do, I want a promise that you won't try that again. I get you thought I was in Hell. I understand. But the next time I die, I want to stay dead. Don't drag me back. I know more than anyone where I'm going, and I'll be okay." She reached out and grabbed his hand, "I don't want a life if it means you going to Hell."

He felt himself hesitate, knowing there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for her, but knowing that without her, he'd do anything to have her back.

"I need you to promise, Dean. You need to swear to me." She said with passion, "I can't be with you unless you swear. I can't have this possibility hanging over us."

There was no hesitation this time, "I promise."

Her smile shined her pleasure. Without even realising it, he found himself smiling back.