Ending of an Era
By PaBurke (faithburke)
Crossover: Supernatural & Firefly
Summary: Dean's been stuck in this current form for far too long. Something is about to change.
Word Count: 4000+
Rating: Gen, PG
Warnings: Language, Inara's job
Disclaimer: Not mine
*
Dean always woke up more when a woman touched the handle. It was the easiest and most pleasant way to wake Dean up –not that anyone knew it. Awareness didn't happen often, as he was a 'treasured heirloom' tucked away in a safe or displayed under glass and lights. His view of time was skewed too. The girl-no, the woman holding his handle was undeniably beautiful. The way the man of the house touched her indicated a sexual relationship. Dean was pretty sure that this man was still married or that could have been his father. Hell, Dean could be remembering the man's great-great-grandfather for all he knew.
The woman's hand had no calluses, soft and perfumed. But she held him steady, firm. She didn't fear him. Many did. The man was probably telling the story of the times in the past when Dean would be covered in blood, by a corpse and no obvious killer could be found. He knew that most didn't believe the stories. He imagined that they had to be recorded somewhere. Was he a throwaway detail in some news or police report? He knew that there weren't enough Hunters around to salt and burn him, if that would even free him. If there were any Hunters and they did the kind of research that Sammy always did, they would figure out that Dean had been killing the demon-possessed. That was the other way that he woke up.
One advantage of being a knife? Once he gathered enough energy to move the weapon, he could kill anything.
*
"It's a Winter Knife," Michael Novak explained.
Inara held the blade carefully. She was used to clients showing her their prized possessions to brag, but had a feeling this time was different. "It's beautiful."
Michael smiled. "It is many things. It has never had to be sharpened and it has gone through a lot of bone."
"Yet another skill of Earth-That-Was that has been lost," Inara murmured.
Michael turned his back on her and the knife. It was a show of trust that Inara acknowledged. "That knife was made as a pair. The second knife was not identical. Perhaps that was why it was separated and lost long ago."
"You are seeking the other Winter Knife." A statement of fact.
Michael nodded once and glanced at the knife in her hands. "My family has been looking for the other one for generations. We had never heard a whisper of its match. We surmised that one kept us safe and that two would do a better job."
Irana offered the knife back to her client. "It's token of protection unlike any other."
Michael smirked but didn't accept the knife. "You think I'm a superstitious Rim Worlder who happens to have a lot of money."
"I think that you are an excellent storyteller."
"Then let me tell you a story." Michael turned his gaze back to the green landscaped yard beyond the window. He knew that the rest of the planet was a dustball. "That knife needs the other one. It's losing its ability to protect. A woman told me that I would have to release the knife into the hands of a woman in order for the good karma to protect my family."
"She wanted you to give it to her," Inara guessed.
"No." Michael stared her down. "She wanted me to give it to the next companion I hired."
Inara was surprised. "I don't know this woman."
"No. You don't. You are supposed to pass it along to the one who can find the counterpart." Michael ran his fingers through his thinning hair in a sign of frustration. "Souri wouldn't tell who you would pass it to so that I could go straight to the source. She wouldn't let me cut out the middle-man. She wants me to trust, but I don't have that kind of faith."
"You are truly gifting me with an Earth-That-Was artifact?"
"I'm loaning you our protection of centuries past."
"I might never come this way again."
Michael ground his teeth. He wasn't happy, but he was set on his path. "I know."
He was as stubborn as Mal and Inara hated it when her clients reminded her of the captain. Inara set the knife on a table and walked up to Michael. Then she proceeded to distract her client in the classical manner of a companion.
*
Dean had never considered himself a peepin' tom. Why watch other people get it on when you could do it yourself? Since he had lost his body, and had been forced to witness others' sex, he relegated it in his mind as porn. There had been one guy a long time ago who would deliberately leave the knife where his bed partner could see it. That had gotten a little weird. This? This was porn of the highest class. Made him wish for some popcorn.
Dean was surprised when the owner of the knife let the pretty girl walk off with it. What was going on? This was what he missed the most, being able to evaluate his surrounds audibly. Part of him was pleased, different was good. After travelling all over the United States as a human and then the world as a knife, the last decades (possibly centuries) in the same house with the same family had become stifling. The monotony of being inanimate could, and at times did, drive him insane. At least with the prostitute, he was sure to have some really good entertainment.
He was vaguely disappointed when she arrived wherever she was going and another pretty girl was waiting. This was a girl-girl. As hot as girl-on-girl action was, the girl was jailbait. Okay, so even the prostitute was too young for Dean, but it wasn't as if he was going to get some action any time soon.
*
"You brought me a present." River was waiting for Inara. She stood right in front of the door to the shuttle leaving no path around her. She was bouncing in place like the child she was with her hands outstretched. When River gauged Inara's mood, she settled. "May I please have the weapon that the other psychic proclaimed my responsibility?"
Inara wasn't too terribly surprised that River knew about the knife. She was, however, well aware of the crew's sure reaction to River gaining a knife. "I will let you look at it, but it's remaining in my possession."
"But only he will be able to inform me of his brother's location," she argued.
"Is the…" Inara phrased her words carefully, "….brother knife on board Serenity?"
River giggled at the absurdity of the comment. "Jayne can see gold under dirt when the moon shines the silver."
So much for River's lucidity. "Are you saying that Jayne might steal this knife?"
"No. A book might grow legs and jump the moon for the betterment of the fork and the spoon. He can see the gold and the silver and the ghost under. Most logical. Does the good of one outweigh the good of the many?"
Inara didn't know if River was now talking about herself. The girl wandered off without an answer, muttering about guns and a prime directive. Inara would keep her own council regarding this latest client, the knife and the odd request. River was in no shape to do as Michael had asked.
*
Time had passed. How much? Dean didn't know. The girl-girl from before was stealing Dean away from the prostitute. She was hiding Dean less ornately than the older woman had, but Dean was pretty sure that no one would find him here. Wherever here was. The girl-girl was talking to him too. For the first time since he had been in this form, he could almost hear the words. Like a song with the volume too low to decipher but he knew that guitar riff. Dean strained to hear, but she sighed and put him away. Dean knew that she would talk to him later. He was looking forward to it.
*
"Sir, what's wrong?" Zoë followed Mal into the hallway and knew that none of the crew was near. It was a perfect time to find out what had the captain so irritable.
"Chatty girls."
"Chatty girls?" Zoë echoed. "Are Kaylee and River using Serenity as their personal playground again?"
Mal frowned. "No. Not them." He pointed to some place outside of the ship. "Out there. I've had three different pretty girls walk up to me, knowing more than they've a right to and… I don't know what they're up to, but I know it's no good."
"The Alliance, sir?"
"It don't smell like the Alliance, and all the girls have had the same name. It could be the Alliance," Mal mused, knowing full well that he was contradicting himself. "They've been telling me all the things that the Alliance would do to you and Kaylee and Wash and the others if they catch us. Like I don't know."
"What do they want from you?" Zoë asked.
"I'm not sure, but I really hate not being able to talk to a pretty girl without her knowing my name. Even the girls offering me food know who I am. The last one was willing to bed me and didn't want no money for it."
"But you didn't," the first officer confirmed.
Mal grinned a bit. "It was temptin' but I know better than to think anything is free." Mal patted the wall of his beloved ship. "If we didn't need the jobs and the fuel, I'd like to hide out in the Black for a while."
"Jayne and me can always meet the next customer," offered Zoë.
"No. I am the captain and I aim to stay the captain."
"Of course, sir."
*
Dean was stuck and he knew it. He could smell the brimstone of a demon. He knew it hadn't stepped aboard the transport yet, but it was just a matter of time. The stench floated behind at least half of the crew. He had never caught scent of a demon so early before. Normally, Dean awoke as the black cloud was forcing itself into a meat suit right in front of him. This was different. This was worse. He had a feeling that he knew the demon in question. He was looking forward to ending the bitch too.
But. He. Could. Not. Move.
The girl-girl had done something to him. He was now aware of things happening when he wasn't being touched. He knew things that weren't happening right in front of him. He knew that the first mate and her husband were trying for a baby. There was no way in hell that he should know that. He really didn't want to know that. 'Cause their sex was nothing like the prostitute on the job. He actually felt a little guilty knowing what was going on in their bunk. It should be private. He knew about the cheerful mechanic in the engine room. He liked how she knew and loved the guts of her machine. He knew about the uptight doctor. The man seriously needed to chill. He knew about the preacher. The man reminded him a lot of Pastor Jim. He knew what the gun-man did in his bunk. The less said about that, the better.
He was again remembering events of when he had a human form. He was remembering some of the important names. Friends' faces were coming back to him. Sammy, he had never forgotten, but now he wondered what had happened to his little brother.
He knew about the Black. He was flying through space. He had never known that before. How long had he been asleep? What advances had been made in the meantime? Where the hell was he? Was he near Earth? More importantly, was he near Sam?
Sometimes he wanted to go back to sleep. This knowing partway and not being able to do anything about it was hell. (Where was Sam?) He had to figure out a solution that wouldn't exhaust him fast. He needed to be mobile when the demon made its move. He needed a plan. He needed a way out. He needed to be ready.
*
Inara was practicing on her lute. A companion never stopped practicing. It had been a while since she had concentrated on her musical instrument. Normally she used the time between planets to read newly published fiction or catch up on the news waves. Clients enjoyed conversations about their interests. Inara knew the value of being well informed.
The lute both calmed her and curdled her soul. If she wasn't careful, it would bring up memories best left buried. There was one song that she would never play –it fit Mal too well. She had a tendency to let her mind drift during the scales. Horrible practice, she knew, but it was also a survival mechanism.
In the middle of the C Major scale, she felt the urge to check her hiding place for the Winter Knife. She tucked the lute in its case and stood. When Inara opened the panel in the shuttle, her heart dropped. The knife was gone and she was pretty sure that River was the culprit. Even worse, she had no idea how long ago the insane child had moved it. Inara didn't know if she should go directly to Mal, subtly ask Simon or just wait.
She cursed quietly in Chinese while she waited.
*
The prostitute was different from what he had expected. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but the cleanliness, the music, the books... maybe she was more of a call girl? She was rich, that was certain. She also had a stillness that he normally wouldn't associate with her type of work. The prostitution job must have changed while he slept. More importantly, had the Hunting gig changed while he slept?
The prostitute –damnit, the title didn't quite fit now, but Dean didn't know what did..
"Inara."
The prostitute…
"Inara."
The girl was talking to him. If Dean understood her right, the prostitute's name was Inara. Okay, he could accept that. Some part of him was freaked that this girl could communicate with him.
"Had to align the wavelengths," she whispered.
Ah hell, crazy girl…
"River."
This time, Dean was paying attention. He thought 'crazy girl…'
"River Tam."
This was the most communication Dean had had in a very, very long time.
"Over five centuries."
Ah hell, Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know that. Five hundred years was a very long time. He tried to pull his thoughts together. He was as crazy as crazy girl…
"River Tam."
River was listening. No one had listened to him for five hundred years. Whether anyone had listened to him before that was debatable. Very precisely he thought, 'Inara is looking for me.'
"Won't find. Underestimated capabilities."
Yeah, Dean had caught that. He was pretty sure that everyone had underestimated River. 'You need to free me,' he told the girl. 'There is trouble coming and I can kill it.'
"No. You can't. You surrender."
That pissed Dean off. Winchesters might bargain with demons. They might retreat from demons. They might be duped by demons but they sure as hell don't surrender. Okay, Dean's time in hell notwithstanding, but he had learned his lesson and it wasn't as if Dean was on the rack again and would be tempted to get off. 'I know what I'm doing,' he thought. 'You don't.'
"Same wavelength," the girl argued.
And then to Dean's dismay, River hid the knife again and sentenced him to more time observing and not being able to move. It was a life sentence for failing Earth. Dean was truly starting to chafe from his chains. Now Dean knew just how merciful Castiel had been when the angel had forced him into a fitful doze, only to awaken when needed.
*
Simon had been dragged out of the infirmary by Kaylee- again. He most definitely had enjoyed the interlude, but he had a duty to keep his little domain organized and ready to be used. He also had a duty toward his sister. He rarely felt guilty for his time with the little mechanic, especially since River had been a little more coherent and focused with the latest change in meds.
All such thoughts of gratitude vanished from his mind when he caught his baby sister inking a tattoo onto the upper part of her left breast. "River!" he sputtered for a moment and was angered that his baby sister –his baby sister- hadn't even looked up.
"It's done, Simon."
That wasn't reassuring in the least. He examined the tattoo with gentle fingers. It was tender, but that was normal. He saw no signs of infection. It might be too early, after all, he kept his infirmary as sterile as possible. He would keep an eye on it. "Why would you do this to yourself, River?"
"Key to the end of the story."
Eyeing the stylized sun-like design, he shook his head. "It doesn't resemble a key."
"It's a lock. Deadbolt. In-in. Out-out. Everything stays in its cubbyhole."
He had learned long ago not to address River's sayings when he didn't understand. "Where did you even find the ink?" he asked.
"Made it," River chirped proudly. "The formula isn't complex."
Simon didn't know what he could do but to bandage the self-inflicted art, usher his sister out of the infirmary and dispose of the needles that she had 'borrowed.' What had she been thinking? Their mother would be –would have been horrified.
*
So crazy didn't equal stupid. Dean could appreciate that, even as he fumed in his knife-shaped cell. He had to get out of here. The demon was circling in. Whatever the hell-bitch wanted on the ship –and there was a good chance that it was River herself- the crew wouldn't surrender. Could River be stolen from them? He couldn't warn them. Any attempts to communicate with the non-crazy part of the crew left Dean feeling exhausted (and stupid and impotent). Attempts to convince River that she needed to release him were met with babble. He hadn't felt this much in centuries. He hadn't been this angry. He should be able to move.
Dean didn't have the patience to deal with this, but he didn't have a choice.
*
"I want your opinion on Ruby," Mal said out of the blue as he was discussing his latest job with his first mate.
"Ruby, sir?" Zoë was confused. "I don't recall any rubies in our last gem heist. When was our last gem heist?"
Mal shook his head. "Ruby is what all the girls call themselves when they talk to me. I'm not sure what they want, 'cept for me to return River to the Alliance and dump Simon."
"They don't want Simon?" Zoë echoed.
"No, but they don't want Simon where he can save his sister again."
"They don't want to kill Simon?" Zoë thought about it. "If Simon is alive he'll be tryin' for River."
Mal snorted. "If River is taken and I dump Simon, the boy will get himself killed. He can be a mite annoying."
"True, sir." Zoë said slowly.
Mal could hear the caveat in her voice. "But?"
"He succeeded once before."
"Even he admits that it was more luck than anything else. And he don't have more money to smooth the way."
Zoë raised an eyebrow. "We both know persistence makes its own kind of luck."
"We're not going to be losing any crew," Mal declared. "But we need to figure away to keep this Ruby-gal from doing more than talk. Her female mind's beyond my 'kin. She's got a plan for both of the Tams and she ain't been a-sharin' it with me."
"Of course, sir. I'll be ready."
*
Crazy girl pulled Dean from his hiding place and secreted him next to her smooth skin. As much as he appreciated the change in scenery, he hated the fact that he still couldn't move. What had she done to him? And how could he reverse it? He needed to find an answer fast. He could smell the demon again and it was stronger than ever before.
River Tam was walking straight toward it. It was talking to the captain and the first mate. Dean panicked. As much as River was driving him crazy, he certainly did not want her killed, or taken captive by a demon. 'River!' he tried to yell.
"Underestimating me," was the calm reminder.
'Dangerous!' he shouted.
"Crystal clear. Over-n-out." River ran for the demon and struck.
Dean was impressed. Crazy girl was talented but she was still a human fighting the supernatural. She needed help and the captain and the first mate shooting at the stranger didn't help any. A demon of Ruby's power could keep the body moving long after it was dead. Both of the former soldiers managed to get a body shot on the meatsuit and Dean was wondering when the hell bitch would switch bodies and which one she would choose. Crazy girl would get crazier if she was forced to kill either.
The demon in the girl's body blocked River's knife thrust with one of her own. The clang of the two knives reverberated and echoed in unnatural ways.
Dean was stunned. He was surprised beyond belief.
'Sammy?'
Nothing.
River was still fighting Ruby and not doing half bad.
'Sammy!'
Dean knew that they didn't have much time. Ruby was counting on River's fatigue and flighty thought patterns.
'Damnit, bitch! Wake up and help!'
River had done something to disconnect Dean from the knife and yet woke him up at the same time. What if Ruby had done the same? After all, Sammy wasn't the first demon killing knife she had gotten her hands on. She had to know the score more than anyone else.
'SAMMY!'
'…'ean?'
Yes. He was in there. Dean was halfway relieved that his little brother didn't know what Ruby had done with him.
'Sammy, It's me. You have to wake up.'
'Why? Dean, I'm tired. I hurt.'
'I know, baby brother, but if you do I promise relief and rest.'
'With you?'
'Yeah. You just have to inflict a wound on Ruby.'
'Just?' Sammy's sulk hadn't changed. 'You think I haven't tried?'
'Winchesters don't surrender. River will help you. You just have to give her an edge. I'm sure you with your big brain can pick the perfect second.'
'We're knives, Dean. Physically we don't have brains.'
'Yeah, yeah. Move it, bitch.'
'Wait for it – jerk.'
*
Mal hated being relegated as an observer. He had shot the girl –as had Zoe- to no avail. She was still fighting crazy girl. Mal was scared to shoot again. There was always a chance of hitting River.
Then, as if things couldn't get any odder, the strange girl dropped her knife. Instead of falling, the knife hovered in midair for a moment. Ruby was scared. She turned to run, but River was ready and threw her knife at the stranger. Her knife (since when did River have a knife and why hadn't the captain been rightfully informed of this development?) impaled itself into Ruby's back. A cloud of black smoke was halfway out of the body and the floating knife zoomed into the midst of it. There was a scream of death and the black cloud faded away. The floating knife fell to the ground. This was stranger than anything Mal had ever seen, though he wouldn't be surprised if River declared that she was a telekinetic. He thought that only happened in stories.
River grinned and curtsied, like she was at a dance. She skipped over to the body and picked up the two silver knives.
"River," Mal warned.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Winter knives belong together. It's time for a new season. Inara can return the empty Old."
"Give them to me," ordered the captain.
Surprisingly enough, River obeyed. "Just keep them touching. They've been lonely."
Mal didn't see the harm in tucking both knives into the same place in his belt. Then he and Zoë hid the body of the girl River had killed. Mal wasn't too worried since she had tried to kill River first. All three walked back to Serenity in silence. Mal was glad that the –whatever-the-hell-this-was was over. He would ask Inara about the knives and go on to his next job.
*
Dean didn't know where he was, but it was the opposite of the knife. He was warm where before the metal was always so cold. He was with Sam instead of being alone. He was loved instead of being feared. He was content and fed, not frustrated and empty. He drifted… curled around Sam and happy.
*
Zoë blinked in surprise and steadied her light-headed husband. "What do you mean? Twins? As in… two… boy… babies?"
River giggled and answered for her brother. "Don't worry. Jerk and Bitch know their place in the universe. You can't have one without the other."
*
The End
*