AN – I hope this chapter makes sense. A lot of the time I write things that don't really make sense...
Real
"Snap!" Faith repeated for the fourth time, grinning triumphantly as she pulled the stack of cards towards herself.
Andrew pouted and rubbed his hand. "That hurt. I'm not a demon, you know. You don't have to slay my hand."
"You're just a bad loser."
Dean watched them bicker, rolling his eyes as they started to nudge each other on the floor in the centre of the living room in the apartment. "You guys suck," he stated. When they ignored him, he turned to Giles, who had joined them for the evening and was sat on the sofa next to Dean. "I'm heading to bed. These kids are giving me a headache."
"I don't blame you," Giles responded. "I suspect things are about to get very ugly. Andrew pulls hair when he gets angry." His face turned serious. "Do try to get as much sleep as you can. I have a feeling none of us will be getting any tomorrow night."
Dean nodded and pulled himself up. Once alone in Buffy's bedroom, he let out a relieved sigh, glad to finally get some peace. He moved over to her window and picked up the little glass bottle of dirt she kept on the sill – taken from the crater that was once Sunnydale, according to Giles. His girl had some weird mementos. Sighing for the second time, he put the bottle down and glanced up at the moon. It was bright and round, but not quite full.
That would be tomorrow night.
After kicking off his boots and jeans, he flopped down onto the bed and rested his hands behind his head. Despite what Giles had said, he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep. There was far too much going on in his head.
Yeah, he wasn't going to fall as-
He was standing in a bedroom. Not the bedroom he had just been in, although it had the same kind of feel. He suspected this one belonged to a girl younger than Buffy.
"This was my bedroom back in Sunnydale," a voice remarked.
He turned around, unsurprised to see Buffy. She was sat on the bed, surrounded by the light that shone in from the window. He nodded, and sat down next to her. Not too close, though. Not close enough to touch. If he touched her, she'd disappear. "It's nice."
"Yeah. Kinda childish though. It's all gone now." She swept her arm around, indicating all of her belongings. "Sunk into the crater with the rest of the town. Apart from that, of course." She gestured towards a picture of her and Dawn and their mother, the one that currently resided on the mirror in her new bedroom. "Towards the end I took to carrying it around with me everywhere I went. I don't know why..."
"So," Dean spoke up, after a long minute of contemplative silence had passed. "Which Buffy are you? My Buffy or evil Buffy?"
"You know, she's not evil. She's being controlled."
He shrugged. "Which one?"
She sighed. "I'm the one who loves you."
"So you ain't gonna try kill me or anything, right? 'Cause I kinda got the feeling that's what you wanted to do the last time we met."
"That's what he wanted her to want to do."
"Could you make any less sense?"
"I'm sorry. But you know that wasn't me."
"So...you're real?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm a dream, just a figment of your imagination. Does it really matter?"
"What matters is that you're here."
"That's what I was hoping you'd say." She cocked her head at him and smiled ruefully. "You know you're gonna lose tomorrow night, right?"
"What now?"
"If you don't figure out what the prophecy really means, you'll lose. You'll lose everything."
"But nobody gets it. I don't get it. There was something about me giving you some kind of a gift. You want a gift?"
She tutted impatiently. "Really, Dean?"
He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. "Okay, that is kind of dumb. But I just don't understand."
"Then let me show you." She stood up and held out her hand expectantly.
Dean looked at the proffered hand and shrank back. "I can't take that. If I touch you, you'll vanish."
"No I won't, not yet."
Slowly, he reached up and took her hand.
By the time he was on his feet, his surroundings had changed.
"Is this a desert?" he asked, scratching his head.
"Sh!" Buffy hissed. She was sitting down on a wooden log in front of a large fire. She looked younger than the Buffy he knew. With a slight nod, she gestured towards a strange woman, moving about the flames. "It's the very first slayer. She has something to tell me, so you'd better be quiet."
"Death is your gift..." the first slayer hissed at Buffy.
Dean looked between Buffy and the first slayer and frowned. "What in the hell does that mean?"
Buffy looked up at him. "This is the moment I figured that out."
He started. He was stood behind Buffy on the top of a badly made tower. Her back was to him, and she was gripping Dawn's shoulders as she spoke with intensity. He tried to hear what she was saying, but she had already stopped talking. As he watched, she leaned forwards and kissed Dawn's cheek. She turned and ran straight through him.
"No!" he called out desperately as she jumped. He ran after her and followed her off the edge.
When he landed, it was on the hard floor of what looked like an ordinary office. He pulled himself up and stared angrily at Buffy, who was sat at a desk.
"Why did you show me that?" he demanded angrily.
"Death was her gift," Buffy answered simply. She turned to the girl sitting opposite her. "This is Amanda. She was with us before Sunnydale fell."
"Where is she now?"
"She died."
"Oh. So this here is before she died?"
"No. This came after."
"Then how-"
"This is a dream. A dream within a dream. It's all very complicated."
Comprehension dawned. "Amanda...is this the dream you and Faith had just before me and you met?"
She didn't answer him, but smiled. But her smile quickly faded, and she threw down the little hand mirror he hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Was it me?" she asked Amanda, looking horrified.
"Was it you? Maybe." Amanda replied. "But I think he'll save you."
"Is she talking about me?" He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he was in what he recognized as the training room at the school.
Buffy was walking towards a girl huddled up in a dark corner. "Maggie?"
"That's that chick who went all dark side and then got killed," Dean hissed, remembering the name.
Maggie's head darted up, and Dean thought she had heard him. But she was looking at Buffy. And she was cackling. "Just because you think it's over..." she started. "...doesn't mean you've won."
"Tell me what you mean," Buffy demanded.
"He'd go to the end of the world to save you. He'd die. He'd sacrifice it all." Maggie stood up and slowly walked towards Buffy, reaching up on her tip toes to whisper in Buffy's ear. "But death is his gift."
Buffy frowned. "Don't you mean death is my gift?"
Maggie tutted three times, shaking her head slowly. "Death is his gift."
Buffy turned around, folding her arms as she eyed Dean. "Do you get it yet?"
"No..."
"That's okay. There's still a few more stops."
The next scene he remembered easily. Buffy's birthday. It felt like just yesterday, while at the same time it felt a whole lifetime ago.
"Dean's turn!" Faith sang, after she and Sam had given Buffy their birthday presents.
Dean remembered his role. Quite clearly embarrassed, he reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a badly wrapped package from one of the inside pockets. "It's nothing special," he mumbled, throwing it carelessly over in Buffy's direction. "Just a bit of cheap junk."
"Dean!" Buffy gasped over the necklace he had given her. "It's so beautiful."
"It's a quartz," he explained gruffly. "Uh, a tourmaline in quartz or some crap like that. It's supposed to uhm...I mean, the old guy in the store said it means home. It's supposed to remind you where home is."
And then the two of them were stood outside a motel. It was night time, and no one else was around. They had just walked back from the crazy ass Bender household. Dean and Buffy stood with their arms around each other.
"This one's my favourite," she admitted.
Just like they had done before, they exchanged words of love, before Buffy told him that she needed to be alone for a while.
"But you're coming back, right?" Dean asked.
"I'm coming back," Buffy promised.
"Because as much as I absolutely hate the idea and want to shoot it in the face, I could possibly understand why you'd want to go home-"
"Dean," she stopped him. "You are my home. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be."
"I should never have let you go," Dean stated simply, stroking a hand over her hair.
"I would have gone anyway. The demon was always going to get me."
"But maybe-"
"There's no maybes." She slid her hands down his arms and captured his. "Come on. One final stop."
They were back at the school.
"There was one last thing written, about the one who loves them the most," said Missouri, to those gathered around the table as she explained the translated prophecy. "Only he can save them, by giving the daughter the gift that he was destined to give her."
Buffy turned from the scene to look at him. "Now do you get it?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Then I'll tell you-"
Dean sat up in bed, a cold sweat breaking out over his entire body. He cursed loudly. Why had he woken up? Just before he was about to get his answer.
Because you already know the answer, a little voice whispered to him.
And then he got it. She'd shown him. Death had been her gift to Dawn. She'd died to save Dawn. And now death was his gift. He had to die to save Buffy and Sam.
In the living room, Faith and John were talking in low voices. Dawn and Lewis were asleep in Dawn's room, and Sam and Andrew were in the kitchen. Giles had left and Bobby had fallen asleep on the armchair and was snoring softly, a half drunk beer in one hand, and his shot gun laid across his chest.
"You know that Buffy is probably going to have to die," John said gruffly. It wasn't a question.
Faith brought her knees up to her chest, surprised at his brutal honesty. "I know."
"And you understand that there's a big chance that you'll have to be the one to do it?"
She said nothing. The thought had occurred to her.
"I doubt Sam'll be in any position to...not that he could ever...and Dean...he loves her too much. And I suspect you're the only other one who's gonna be able to get close enough."
"Yeah...I know."
"Could you do it?"
Faith didn't answer for a long time. "She's trapped in there. So, to save her..." she uttered eventually. "I could do it to save her."
