The trip to the wooded area where the monster was last seen was made in silence. Dean's shoulders were rigid and the hand clutching the steering wheel was clenched so tight his knuckles were almost white. His jaw would clench every few moments and Sam obviously noticed, but ignored him. He kept looking out the window and scratching his knee. Buffy sat in the middle of the back seat quietly, and let the motion of the car and the hum of the engine float over her.

They pulled over and Buffy didn't say anything as Dean got out of the car and slammed the door. Sam winced, but turned in his seat to speak to Buffy. She just shook her head. Sam had already gotten into enough trouble on her account.

The brothers loaded up on weapons and Buffy watched as they trekked into the dark woods. She scooted to the door and pressed her face against the cool glass, watching them until she could no longer see the outlines of their bodies. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. So much for being useful.

"Buffy!"

She shot up, but was no longer in the car. Buffy looked around at her room in confusion. Hadn't someone shouted for her? Then, she heard someone running up the stairs and gingerly stood up. Willow burst into her room, breathing heavily.

"It's the demon. They need help, out in the woods…"

Buffy didn't need to be told twice and took off running down the stairs and out the front door. As she was running down the street, she felt something snap against her face. In shock, she stopped and held a hand up to her stinging cheek. Her fingers came away red.

A twig snapped and she whirled around. She wasn't on the street in California anymore. She was in the middle of the woods and a tree branch had hit her face. For a moment, she panicked because she had run too far from the road and was deep in the woods. Buffy didn't know how to get back to the car and Dean was going to kill her.

A shout and gunfire came from her right, and she didn't even stop to think. Buffy took off running, mindful of the branches this time. When she got to the clearing, she stopped in surprise. Sam and Dean were fighting the same demon Willow said was in Sunnydale. That was one hell of a coincidence, but they weren't cutting off its head. Instead, they were shooting it and being pushed back to the defensive.

Their bag of goodies glistened in the moonlight, and Buffy saw the short sword Sam packed. Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, gathering her strength. Either she could manage to behead the demon or it would kill her easily. Hopefully, she retained enough of her strength and agility to beat it.

Buffy raced down the slight incline just in time to see the demon swipe his arm and throw Sam and Dean to the ground. It roared, and she pushed herself harder. The demon was in front of their bag now, and she wouldn't be able to get to the sword unless it backed up.

She didn't slow her speed at all, instead pushing herself harder. Dean heard her first, and his expression when he arched his neck back to see her running at full speed toward them was priceless.

With all the power she had, Buffy launched herself at the demon, throwing both her legs out. They connected with the demon's chest and it lost its balance, taking steps back. It tripped over the bag and Buffy barely managed to grab the sword before it regained its footing.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam shouted, but she ignored them.

"This thing better be sharp," she said, before pulling it back and swinging forward with all her might. The sword made contact and Buffy knew she pulled her shoulder trying to drag the sword through the spinal column of the demon. The sword finally snapped through and the head rolled off the shoulders, landing on the ground with a thump.

Buffy was breathing heavily and the sword felt like a troll hammer in her hand. Her shoulder was throbbing and she dropped the weapon, wincing.

"What did you do?" Dean asked numbly as he came up beside her. "How did you do whatever it is you just did?"

She stared at the demon's body as it lay on the ground, lifeless. There was no excitement over proving herself, no relief that the demon was gone. She felt oddly empty. "It was a Brachian demon and the only way to kill it is beheading. You were just pissing it off."

"And how did you know that?" Sam asked.

"It was my job to know about the demons and the forces of darkness. I had a Watcher, Giles, who was an expert on supernatural things. My friend, Willow, is a witch who also knows about a lot of evil beings. My other friend, Xander, is engaged to a thousand year old ex-vengeance demon." Sadness rushed over as she remembered the nightmare that was Xander and Anya's almost wedding. "Was engaged. He broke it off."

"Sorry to break up this sentimental moment," Dean said flippantly, causing Sam to glare at him. "But I just wanted to know one thing. How do we get rid of the body?"

That she wasn't sure of. In her line of work, she never had to get rid of a body, because there normally was no body to be rid of. Vampires turned into nifty little dust piles and demons were hauled off as a nasty's meal. "How do you normally get rid of bodies?"

Dean nodded to himself. "I'll go get the gas."

While he started to head back to the car, Sam stood and walked over to Buffy. "That was really impressive. The kick, the sword fighting, and how calm you were about it. It was almost as if—"

He stopped, but she knew what he was going to say. She finished the sentence for him with a sad smile. "It was almost as if I'd done it before."

Sam had a look on his face that Willow often had when she was about to study a new spell or specimen. Buffy was a bit nervous.

"You know, it would have taken us days to figure out what that thing was if it didn't kill us. Bobby would probably love to meet and talk with you."

Buffy was instantly wary. "Bobby? Who's that?"

"He's," Sam began, pausing in the middle to gather his thoughts, "Bobby is a hunter, like us. Our dad died a while back. He's close to the only family we have. He has mountains of books on demons and ghosts back at his place. We were heading back there. Why don't you stick around?"

The offer was tempting. Maybe this Bobby person could help figure out how to stop the different relapses and help her stay in one reality. The memory of Xander and Anya's broken relationship and her… whatever it was with Spike was making it harder to want to go back to Sunnydale. Life seemed better here.

"I don't know. I don't think Dean would like it."

"Don't think Dean would like what?"

The person of their discussion came waltzing back into the small clearing holding a red gas can. He dumped the liquid onto the demon body before stepping back and throwing a lit match onto the corpse. It was immediately engulfed into flames and Buffy had to turn away from the intense heat.

"I think Buffy should come back with us to Bobby's."

Because she was turned away from the fire, she didn't see Dean's expression, but his response was biting enough.

"Like hell she can!"

Buffy flinched.

"She's a liability!

"She just saved our ass!" Sam retorted. "And saved us time researching how to kill this thing. A thank you wouldn't be too bad!"

While the brothers argued, Buffy tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. She attempted to observe the trees casually, but a headache was coming on. The aspirin she'd taken earlier were wearing off, so Buffy risked Dean's ire to interrupt for some more pain medication.

When she turned to ask, Buffy's eyes widened as she spotted a familiar shape in the distance. The sword was at her feet and she slowly looked back up at the nearing creature. Neither Sam nor Dean had noticed the Polgara demon that was slowly creeping up on them.

Buffy gave them as long as she dared before instincts took over. Using the last of her strength, she picked up the sword and threw it right between Sam and Dean and into the Polgara's chest. The sword impacted with a loud 'thunk' and the demon swayed before falling over.

Sam and Dean stared at the demon in shock before slowly turning to stare at Buffy, their jaws open in surprise. "That's a Polgara demon. He has two spikes that come out of his forearms. You can shoot that one. I think."

"God, that's an ugly son of a bitch," Dean muttered as he picked up his shotgun. Sam was right by his side with two handguns and the two of them cautiously approached it. Sam made sure it was fully dead before pulling the sword out of its chest. He lifted up the arm of the demon and twisted.

A long, sharp barb shot out of the forearm, making Dean and Sam jump back before looking at Buffy expectantly. "Told you so." She cocked her head and stared at it curiously. "Wish I'd thought to do that. Adam would have had one less weapon."

They repeated the process of dousing the demon with gasoline, salt for good burning the demon to ash, leaving no physical evidence behind.

Buffy frowned and looked down at her legs. They started shaking and she abruptly realized how much strength she'd used up to kill the demons. "Um, a little help here," she said weakly before losing the ability to stand altogether.

Dean was closest and grabbed her with one arm until he could hand off the shotgun to Sam.

"I'll take the stuff back to the car before we get ambushed again." With that, Sam grabbed the bags and the sword and began heading back to the road.

"Guess I'm not up to slayer strength." Buffy tried to stand on her own, but she was too weak. "I don't suppose you're up for giving me a piggy back ride back to the car? I know I said I'd stay there, but…"

Dean looked like he was torn. "You know a lot about these monsters, don't you? And… maybe you know a thing or two about a sword." Buffy snorted, but didn't want to push her luck when it came to Dean.

"Demons, and I've had sword training. Actually used one to send my ex-boyfriend to hell."

He looked a little disturbed at that. "I thought demons possessed people."

"They do," Buffy answered. "But there are hundreds of different types of demons. Some possess, some are in their own form."

They slowly started their trek back to the Impala. She was glad he was no longer raving mad at her, and that perhaps he'd let her stay with them a bit longer. She could take care of herself, but she still wasn't up to full strength.

Buffy realized she'd lost her shoes in the run; they'd been too big for her anyway. The rough ground bit into the soles of her feet, but she ignored the pain.

"Where are your shoes?" he asked, looking down at her feet.

"Don't know. They didn't fit anyway. I'll get new ones somewhere later," she brushed him off, not knowing where she would get said shoes, but figured that there had to be some sort of goodwill store nearby. The meager amount of money she'd been able to lift off an orderly had paid for the bus fare and taxi ride to meet up with Sam and Dean.

Dean surprised her by stepping in front of her and leaning forward a bit.

"What are you doing?" she asked in shock.

He sighed. "Well, I'm not carrying you like a Princess because that's a sure way for me to trip and we'll go tumbling down. Hop on."

She still didn't move, instead staying leaning on the arm closest to her. "Look, if I don't, Sam will bitch at me for making you walk and I'll have to live with his whining the entire way back to the motel. Let's go."

Buffy saw his logic, but waited until she was holding onto his neck firmly and they were walking back to the car before smiling.

When they got to the car, Sam was on the phone. He looked over at them and did a double take when he noticed Buffy on Dean's back. He was too busy staring to pay attention to where he was walking and tripped over the empty gas can in his path. Buffy put her head on Dean's shoulder to muffle her laughter and Dean chuckled.

"Classic. Who're you talking to, slick?"

Sam glared and mouthed Bobby at Dean, who nodded.

"Should I just keep quiet for now?" Buffy whispered.

"For a bit," Dean affirmed.

She did as she was told and tightened her arms around Dean's shoulders as he grabbed her calves to hitch her higher on his back again. He wheezed a bit. "Damn, that's some grip you've got."

"All the better to choke demons with, my dear," she joked.

Sam waved at them to be quiet, and they both snickered.

"No, Bobby, it just took us a while to find the body."

Buffy leaned forward so she could whisper to Dean, "Why aren't you telling him the truth?"

"We will later. If we tell him now, Bobby will worry until he sees us again, and who knows when that old codger will drop dead of a heart attack. I pride myself for giving the man gray hairs, but I don't want his ghost to come after me because I was an idjit."

She didn't have time to ask exactly what an idjit was. Sam was instantly in front of them with a nervous expression on his face. "I know we wrapped it up two days ago. We ran into a little problem here in Nevada."

Buffy realized what Sam was waiting for. "He has no idea what he just killed, does he?"

"Nope," Dean replied, "And neither do I. Just whisper it to me and I'll tell him."

"You just want to sound smart."

For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was just taking a vacation from Sunnydale and that everything in her life was fine. She hadn't just escaped from a mental institution in one reality while her friends were trying to figure out what was wrong with her in another reality. She wasn't a crazy girl who happened to know about demons and could talk to ghosts.

"Guilty," Dean replied, shaking her out of her reverie. Buffy shook her head with a small grin.

"Brachian," she whispered, and relaxed a bit when Dean relayed the demon name, loudly, to Sam.

The brother glared at Dean. "Yeah, that's him. It's a Brachian demon. While we were torching that one we got ambushed by a…" Sam looked at her again, wanting an explanation.

"Smack a ho," Buffy said, trying not to laugh and remain serious.

Dean relayed the message without thinking. "Smacka—" he turned his head to glare at her. "Cute."

"Polgara," she said softly, and Sam grinned.

"A Polgara demon," he told Bobby. "Yeah, it had the skewers and everything. How did we kill it? Well, we beheaded the first one and ran the second through with a sword." Sam was quiet for a few moments and then nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, we're coming straight back."

When Sam said his goodbyes and closed the phone, he glanced up at Dean. "We have a problem."

"He doesn't believe us," Dean filled in.

"He doesn't believe us," Sam agreed.

Buffy didn't understand. "Well, then you boys are both in trouble because you left the two bodies back there to burn into ash."

"Oh, he believed there are two dead demons," Sam said. "He just doesn't believe we killed them or that we're alone. She's gotta come with us."

Dean sighed, and Buffy felt his shoulders tense. He really wasn't excited about her coming along, but at this point, she had to, if just to explain to Bobby. She was kind of excited about meeting him.

The front door to the Impala was opened and Dean turned around so Buffy could get in. She looked at the front seat strangely as she was slowly let down to the ground. "I'm not riding in the back seat?"

A quick glance at Sam showed he was just as surprised.

"You saved our asses twice. Do it again, and you can drive the car for all I care."

Buffy was pretty sure after seeing her behind the wheel for five minutes, Dean would rather drive the car off a cliff than let her drive again, but she didn't say anything, not even when Dean smirked as Sam folded himself into the back seat. It would be a few days until they reached Bobby's place, and she would enjoy the front seat while she still had it.

…..

"You see, I've figured it out love. You're not drawn to the dark like I thought. You're addicted to the misery," Spike said, his eyes glistening with disdain.

Buffy curled up in the corner of the motel room, ignoring Dean and Sam's shouts of surprise. One moment, she'd been drinking hot tea, lounging on the bed, and the next, the visions were filtering through again. This was more vivid than the one before, though. Normally, she caught herself saying something to Sam or Dean, and looked over to see Willow or Dawn looking at her strangely.

This relapse was the most realistic. Buffy was sitting on her bed, staring at Spike as he talked. While she stared at him in silence in Sunnydale, in this reality, she was breaking down.

"I'll tell them, I'll tell them!" she shouted into the room. She'd do anything to make the memories stop, but they kept coming. At least at the institute the drugs kept her mostly in Sunnydale. Now that she was away from the medications, the reality of Sunnydale and the reality of this new life with Sam and Dean were blurring together, like colors of a rainbow. Buffy wished she could just pick one and stay there.

"Either way, you'd be better off for it. But you're too twisted for that."

"Dude, she's been going off the reservation more and more. We've got to get to Bobby's," she heard Dean say as he inched his way towards her. She started to shiver violently, cold seeping into her skin. "None of this is making sense."

"Twist, twist, twist. I'm a twist tie. Keep the bread fresh. Keep the bread of life. Keep it alive." Buffy's eyes went glassy, and she let her focus blur. A presence was in front of her and another was on the bed she'd just flung herself from. A hand reached for her, and with speed she hadn't shown in a long while, Buffy grabbed onto the arm. She was at a cross between Sunnydale and here, Spike's words spurring her on as she looked up into Sam's shocked eyes.

"Let yourself live, already, and stop with the bloody hero trip for a second. We'd all be better for it."

She'd echoed the words exactly as Spike had told them to her, without the accent. Her gaze caught the mug she had been drinking from, and she grabbed it. In this reality, it was empty, but Spike just left her room, and she was handed the antidote. Slowly, she lifted the mug and poured it out, a few drops of herbal tea filtering out.

As suddenly as the onslaught had come, Buffy snapped out of it like she was suddenly waking up. The distorted words and voices came into focus and Dean's face was peering into hers with worry. Her bottom lip trembled and she held back tears. This had to stop.

Buffy couldn't stand the cautious stares and pitying glances anymore. She whimpered, putting her head down and combing her fingers through her unkempt hair.

"Buffy?"

That was Sam's voice, and there was no doubt in her mind. It was easier to stay grounded here, but Spike's voice was still echoing through her brain. Her reaction was to let her head hit the wall she was next to, and Dean lurched to put his hand between her skull and the wall.

She stared into his worried eyes and felt her bottom lip tremble. There was no pity, only concern. "I don't want to go back there." She turned to look at Sam, who was still leaning on the bed. "I want to be healthy again."

Buffy pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "What do I have to do?"

With a sigh, Sam tentatively held out his hand again, and Buffy took it gently. He pulled her up onto the bed, which was good because she didn't have much strength. "Bobby will be able to help us more. He has more connections and plenty more books if those connections don't come through."

"He's the opposite of Giles. He runs to books first," Buffy said dully.

Dean shook her arm and she felt her focus snap back. "Bobby ain't British and he sure as hell doesn't wear tweed. Why don't we pack up and get back on the road. The quicker we get to Bobby's, the quicker you get back to normal again."

Buffy let out a dry laugh. "Normal. Because after seeing what I've seen, hearing what I've heard, and doing what I've done, I can go back to normal."

…..

The first thing she noticed about the auto yard and Bobby's house was that it was almost right out of a Hollywood movie death scene cliché. She heard barking in the distance and peered around stacks of rusted, crushed cars to try to see the dog, but it never showed.

Dean killed the engine and they all got out of the Impala, Buffy doing so the slowest. In a way, she was nervous about meeting Bobby. It was obvious both Sam and Dean looked up to him, and if she had any hope of sticking with the Winchesters, she needed to make a good impression. At this point, she wasn't sure if it was even possible with her relapses back into Sunnydale, but they swore up and down if anyone knew how to stay in one reality, it was Bobby.

They walked in front of her, and she relied on her small frame to stay hidden behind them. Dean was about to open the front door when it was wrenched open and the hinges creaked in protest. Through the small, open area between Sam and Dean's shoulders, she got her first good look at Bobby Singer.

He was older than she expected, and had a ball cap that she suspected hid a few gray hairs. The flannel shirt was worn and had a few grease spots with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She didn't miss the way he stayed inside his house, the door lined with salt, and had one hand out of sight. If he was anything like Dean or Sam, he had a firm hand on a shotgun.

Bobby stared at Sam and Dean carefully, and their faces gave away their nervousness. Dean moved to his side, revealing Buffy, and slung his arm around her. She narrowed her eyes at him and repeated to herself that pushing him off of her and throwing him off the porch was a sure way to get filled with rock salt.

The urge was greater when he opened his mouth. "It followed us home, Uncle Bobby. Can we keep it?"

Sam's nervousness turned into irritation and he sighed, glaring at Dean. Buffy elbowed Dean and he winced, pulling his arm back. "I'm fragile."

"You're a masochist," Buffy retorted, immediately looking back to Bobby then down at the wooden porch.

"Bobby, she's not a demon," Sam insisted.

The older man looked doubtfully at her. "Christo."

She made a face at him. "Bless you."

Dean chuckled. "He didn't sneeze."

"Well, what the hell was that?" she asked curiously.

"He's making sure you're not a demon," Sam said, and she looked over to see him grinning. Buffy rolled her eyes. Excellent. They were already making fun of her.

"Bobby, just give her a beer and let's be done with it, okay?" Dean said, stepping over the salt line. She knew she should follow to prove she wasn't the demon Bobby thought she was, but she froze at the mention of beer.

"I don't drink beer. Beer is bad. Beer is very bad. Beer leads to Buffy becoming a caveman and hitting her rebound one night stand in the head with a club."

All three men looked at her strangely, especially Bobby who had yet to listen to her strange tirades before this first meeting. She had a sudden pang for her friends back in Sunnydale. "Um, fire bad, tree pretty?"

Bobby looked between Dean and Sam. "If this is an April Fool's joke, I'd like to remind you two fools that it ain't April, and I ain't amused."

Buffy stepped over the salt line and the strangely drawn markings on the floor, following Dean when he gestured through the living room stacked with books. Giles and Willow would die to get a good look at the library here.

She spotted a familiar book and pulled it out. "Nifty. Giles has this one." Before she had a chance to open it, Bobby ripped the book from her hands and put it back in its place.

"That would be impossible. It's a single volume, never copied, and I've had it for twenty years."

She double checked to make sure it was the same type of scrolling. "So this isn't the book on the different goat sacrifices demons make. Does yours have page 49 ripped out too? Because it was just getting good." Dean and Sam looked at Bobby who was staring at Buffy with a bit of awe. "It does, doesn't it?"

Before he could answer, she looked around the house. "Okay, this is bugging me. Where is your dog? It won't stop barking." She knew the moment she saw their faces that she'd said something wrong. "What?"

"You hear a dog barking?" Bobby asked slowly. Buffy recognized the anger in his voice, and was unsure why he took offense to the fact that she heard his dog.

"Buffy, that's not possible," Sam explained.

She was about to argue that it was, because she heard it on the porch. When she went outside to look for it though, all she saw was a ghostly shadow moving back and forth.

"Oh. It died."

The noise of a shotgun cocking was loud in the silent room and Buffy quickly spun around with wide eyes. Bobby had his shotgun aimed right at her, but Dean and Sam both stood in front of her to block the aim.

"I don't know what she's done to you boys, but you better move."

"Bobby, we are not under the influence of anything supernatural," Dean said calmly. "Buffy is the one who saved our asses twice."

"Three times," she insisted.

"What?" Dean was obviously flustered and tried to keep his eyes on the gun while turning to talk to her. "There were only two demons."

"And I didn't help you talk down a ghost who was batting you around like a fly and holding Sam's neck so tight he was turning blue?"

"I thought you said that spirit was taken care of," Bobby asked, looking between Dean and Sam suspiciously.

"It is, Bobby," Sam said quickly. "And it's because of Buffy that we walked out of there alive in the first place." He slowly inched his way in front of the shotgun completely and put his hand on the barrel, lowering it down. Buffy breathed a bit easier.

Bobby obviously didn't believe them, though. If Dean and Sam hadn't seen her in action with their own eyes, she doubted they would believe her, either.

"We didn't know she was a ghost dog whisperer," Dean joked, grinning easily. "We thought she only chatted with the normal spooks."

This time, Bobby didn't look at Dean or Sam. Instead, he stared straight at her, gun pointed at her heart, and she held his steady gaze. "What are you?"

"Human," she said. "But I'm…" Buffy trailed off, unsure on how to tell him about her situation without sounding completely out of whack. "In another dimension, I was injected with a demonic poison that opened my eyes to this dimension. So now I'm caught between the two."

To her surprise, an understanding expression came across Bobby's face. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He dropped the shotgun and glared at Dean and Sam. "If you had told me what happened on the phone, I could have had all the information she needed ready by the time you got here, you idjits."

Sam trailed after Bobby when he put down the gun and started to look for a certain book among the stacks. "That's it?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, making a face. "You think she's the first person to get sucked into some evil plane and thrown somewhere she doesn't want to be? Most true psychics are from other dimensions. That's how they see the future; they can walk dimensions."

"But I'm not psychic," Buffy retorted. "I don't get sucked into the future; I get sucked into my other present without warning."

Bobby looked up at Sam, who was standing over him, still looking as lost as he did when the standoff ended. "Well, don't just stand there, you two." He glanced back at Dean. "Get her a blanket and some aspirin and make her comfortable. Then help me get my books together."

As Dean and Sam shuffled off to do as Bobby said, Buffy thought that as far as first meetings went, this one ended pretty damn well. It wasn't long before she was seated on a chair, a blanket around her shoulders, a mug of warm cider in her hands and miraculous pain killers on the way to easing her headache. She rubbed at her temples, but the older hunter noticed.

"Head hurtin' you?" he asked as he sat down across from her. She gave him a small smile.

"Yeah. Playing host to a ghost isn't fun in the sun." Buffy stopped and blinked. "Well, that was rhyme-y."

Dean snorted, but she ignored him.

"What did happen in that asylum?" Bobby asked, looking over to Dean and Sam, who were still pouring through books Bobby had put in front of them.

"Well," Sam began, "finding an 'Annie' from the institution was a lot harder than I thought it would be."

Dean leaned back in the chair and took a swig of beer he'd gotten from the fridge. "We'd been in town for two days and there were no other mystical occurrences. I cleaned my guns about twenty times. It was boring."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean thought it was nothing. Maybe an honest to god serial killer who got nervous about the FBI snooping around.

"But we heard Buffy and we believed her. The orderlies did something to this ghost, this Annie, and she was just trying to protect the other patients."

Dean snorted. "Because that didn't raise a red flag at all - a crazy ghost helping other crazy people." Bobby's unimpressed look spurred him to clear his throat and continue on with the story without the commentary. "Right, well, I thought the doctor was right. Buffy was just using her middle name to make a bad guy she tried to fight and couldn't. She couldn't save herself."

"But then I remembered how the doctors said Buffy used her middle name, Anne, and so I changed my search," Sam continued, only to be interrupted by Bobby scoffing.

"Fancy Stanford education and you don't bother making sure you search middle names too?"

Dean snickered when Sam flushed. "Long story short, we found out who she was, and she was a bitch to follow."

Sam grabbed his laptop and pulled up the sites he'd bookmarked for Bobby. "Here, take a look. Kathryn Anne Barlow was a patient in the 1920's. She was murdered in her cell."

"Yeah, and it also says a fellow patient confessed to killing her." Bobby cocked his head when he looked at the picture of the professed-criminal. "Scrawny little thing."

He continued reading. "The coroner thought the body was hanged post-mortem, and the cause of death was suffocation. Why go through with the hanging when you've suffocated and then broken the neck of the victim? That's something that had to be done by someone stronger than Annie. And the break was clean, which meant experienced."

"An orderly. It was a cover-up. Annie was killed by one of the guys who worked at the clinic and they shoved the blame onto an innocent patient. That explained why the orderlies were the ones being murdered."

The two brothers sent each other smug grins which Bobby got rid of by slapping them both on the back of their heads. Buffy chuckled and shook her head.

"It took you boys two days to figure that out?" he snapped. "It's a miracle you two manage to wipe your own asses."

Buffy choked on her hot chocolate when she started laughing. Dean glared over at her.

"So why now? Why did it take so long for this Annie ghost to come back and start killin'?"

She knew the answer to this one, and saved the boys more embarrassment. "Annie came back because what was done to her was being done to others," she said, her expression sad.

"There weren't any patients murdered, though, just orderlies," Sam said, looking over at her curiously. "At least I couldn't find any in the news, and there weren't signs of a cover up."

Buffy gave them a grim smile. "What if Annie wasn't just murdered?"

She let that sink in, their shock and horror filling the room.

"Annie's body was sent back to her parents in Virginia," Sam began again, "but they wanted to have it buried in the family plot in England. The ship the body was on was lost at sea and the wreckage never recovered."

Bobby blinked in surprise. "Well, that's new."

"And also a pain in the ass. There's no way to salt and burn the bones."

"What the hell were you supposed to do then?" he asked, irritated. "Reason with it?"

When both Dean and Sam wouldn't meet his eyes, Buffy laughed out loud. Bobby rolled his eyes and came back over to the sitting area and sat across from Buffy. "I guess that's where you came in?"

She nodded, and decided to finish the story for them. "Because I am split between dimensions, I can play host to spirits and talk to them. I let Annie use me to talk and she agreed not to kill anymore orderlies, only scare them away. Sam said he would get them legally and tip off police with the understanding that if deaths are reported again, they won't reason with her. She's done well so far."

Bobby nodded and sat back. "Well, with that riveting tale over with, let's get to the current issue. The demon that put you here. Describe the demon to me. Any detail will help."

Buffy made a face. "I was never good at this part. Um, it had big bulging red eyes. Really ugly tentacles around it's neck. Like… icky ugly." She tried closing her eyes and remembering all she could about the demon. "It's forearms had spine thingies, and the part of it that stuck me came out of its knuckles."

Bobby nodded and stopped writing on his pad of paper. "That's a Bitrain. Nasty sons of bitches."

Dean looked over disbelieving. "You got a specific name out of 'icky ugly' and 'spine thingies'?"

The older hunter glared at Dean. "I've heard of it before. It was the tentacles and the placement of the skewer that reminded me, but I've never met someone who was injected with the poison."

"So you can't help me?"

Bobby looked at her curiously. "What exactly are you wantin' me to do?"

It was a question she hadn't expected and couldn't answer. The juvenile part of her wanted him to be able to throw a powder on her, say a few words, and she'd disappear back to her own reality. She'd even be okay with staying here and not flashing in between realms every twenty minutes. If that kept up, she'd succumb to the diagnoses of schizophrenia for sure.

And part of her wanted to just forget about Sunnydale. She did her part, and just wanted to rest. The irony in taking a rest from demon slaying to slay demons wasn't lost on her, but she was choosing to do it this time around.

"I'm tired of going in between. I want to stay in one place and not worry about walking down the road only to collapse when I get a flash of the other world," Buffy sighed, "But I don't know if that's possible."

"The, uh, doctor said that you were aware twice in your stint in the asylum," Sam chimed in. "You were half out of it two years into your stay, and then last summer you were fully aware."

"What happened during those times that you came here and stayed?" Bobby asked, curious.

Buffy tried to align the timelines in her mind. "Well, the first time I ran away. I lived about an hour away from Sunnydale but came back. And the second time I died."

She didn't look around at their faces. It was a shock, she knew.

"Well, you're obviously not dead there anymore," Dean joked. "How did you pull a Lazarus?"

Buffy shook her head. "I didn't do anything. Willow brought me back from the dead. She did a spell, a ritual."

Bobby let out a low whistle. "That's some pretty powerful magic."

"And she abused them recently, but her girlfriend is also a witch and put a stop to it. She's doing a lot better."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean interrupted, grinning. "You said your witch friend, Willow, has a girlfriend?"

Even knowing Dean for such a small time as she had, Buffy knew what he was focusing on. "Yes, Dean, she's a lesbian. But you're out of luck because they're in another dimension. Besides, Willow wouldn't be interested in you. You couldn't measure up to her last boyfriend."

"Oh really?" he asked, laughing in disbelief. "Who exactly was her last boyfriend? Elvis?"

"He was in a rock band." Dean rolled his eyes and Buffy grinned. "He was also a werewolf."

"I would like to avoid the inevitable pissing contest that's about to happen, if you two don't mind," Bobby interrupted. "I think I have a way of achieving your goal." Buffy instantly snapped her attention to him and listened intently. "Both times you've been aware here, you've been away from there."

When no one responded to his explanation, he huffed. "So leave! Drive across the country. Hell, go to another continent. Get half way across the world from them and put yourself in a safe place with someone to make sure you're not bothered. If you do that, the farther away you go from there, the more aware you'll be here. The same would have happened without the demon opening the way for your mind to be aware of two places."

The explanation was so simple, yet so hard to execute. In her mind, it would be easy to leave her friends and family behind, but could she actually do it?

"But how do I stay there long enough to leave? Without the medications from the asylum, I can't control it and I don't know when a relapse is coming."

"I know a few meditation techniques that will put you in a trance. I learned them from a dimension walker a few years back. From there, you should be able to just relax and think about either here or there and be able to go between them easily."

Sam closed the book he was looking through. "Why couldn't she do that without having to leave the other place?"

"It wouldn't stop the involuntary relapses," Bobby explained. "She'll be able to control when she's going in a trance, but it wouldn't stop her from switching between places involuntarily."

Buffy sighed. "It's a start."

…..

"Now, when you get back to Sunnydale, pack only the essentials and try not to tip your friends off that you're leaving. It'll make it harder, and the less they know about this the better."

Buffy nodded, knowing what Bobby said was true, but it was hard to hear.

"Do you know where you're going to go?" Sam asked.

It was something she'd been considering for a while. "I think I have someone who can loan me some money, and I'll keep heading east for as long as I can, maybe settle up north."

"Then you need to get your stuff and get out of there as fast as you can. It'll take a while to get that far across the country, and it might be hard to stay focused on staying in that reality," Bobby said. "Since it'll be a while, why don't you take the bed when you go under? The more comfortable you are, the better chance you'll have of staying there."

Bobby must have sensed her hesitation, because he walked over and put his back to Dean and Sam. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked in a low voice. "Once you start down this path, I don't think you'll be able to stop."

Buffy nodded her head. "They don't need me anymore, Bobby. I was fine until they pulled me away. I want to be here. I need to be here."

She followed Bobby's instructions, or she tried to. Every single time he lead her through the steps to be in a trance, Dean would make a comment, right up until Bobby grabbed his shotgun, cocked it, and laid it by his side. Both brothers were suspiciously silent after that.

"Just listen to my voice, Buffy. Deep breaths in and out. Keep breathing and keep focused."

She'd done a trance before, on her own, but this was more difficult. After three false starts without witty interruptions, Buffy figured she would have to wait another day.

"Buffy?"

Her eyes snapped open. That was a male voice, but not Dean, Sam, or Bobby. Xander was standing at the foot of her bed, staring at her strangely.

"You okay? You looked a little spacey."

"Huh? No, I'm fine," she quickly amended, looking around her room as if to make sure it was truly hers. "I was daydreaming, that's all. Is everybody here?"

It was a strange question, but Xander answered anyway. "Yeah, Tara came by to check on you, and Willow and Dawn are in the kitchen."

She nodded and gingerly stood up off of the bed. "Right. I need to talk to everyone. Can you get them into the living room?"

Xander was looking at her with a worried expression, and she waved him off. This was going to be much harder than she thought it would be. "Sounds serious, Buff."

"Please, Xander? I'll be down in a minute."

He nodded and left her room, but not before casting another worried glance back at her. Buffy took a deep breath. She was going to need it. While talking things over with Bobby, she already decided that there was no way her friends would just let her leave, especially with the explanation she was going to give. As much as it hurt to lie to her friends about something so serious, it was for the better.

When she finally gathered the courage to go downstairs and face her family and friends, she nearly couldn't do it. They all looked so concerned and worried that she was sure she wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"So, before you say anything, I want to get this out, and I'd appreciate it if I could not be interrupted. It's going to be hard as it is."

Buffy took a deep breath and stood in the doorway to the hallway facing the kitchen. Xander and Dawn were sitting at the island while Tara and Willow were across from them.

"When I was stabbed with that demon poison, I entered another reality. In that reality, I was in a mental institution. But when I was there, I met two guys. In that reality, there is no slayer."

She looked down at the floor, unable to look at them for the rest of the conversation, worried they'd be able to figure out she was lying. "So, I found out that there are some hunters, a type of ghost hunters, that actually do my job, and I'd like to help them. They're so unprepared. I don't want them to get hurt."

Xander leaned on the island and looked over at her curiously. "Where are these hunters? How did you find them?"

"Nevada," Buffy replied, allowing truth to slip into her lies. Dean and Sam had been in Nevada, and the more truth she told, the easier it was for her to tell it. "They've got their hands full with some Brachian demons. You guys know how tough those are. If I can go help them, I'd feel better about it. They deserve my help."

Buffy opened her mouth to say more, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything else. What else could she?

"You're leaving?" Dawn asked, staring at Buffy in panic. "But you can't. I just got you back."

"I'm not leaving you, Dawnie. I'll still be here, promise." She had to take a deep, steadying breath. "I'll call in and check on you. Once I'm done helping these hunters, I'll… I'll come back."

That was the hardest lie she'd had to tell so far, and the temptation to follow through was strong. "They don't have friends like you to help. You guys can hold down the fort. I know you can. You're so strong, and you don't really need me right now. They do."

Willow stepped forward, her brow furrowed. Buffy could see her holding back the sobs. "Did I, did I do this? Are you leaving because of me?"

Buffy wrapped her in a hug and held on tight. "Nothing you've done has influenced this." It felt good to tell the truth, even for a bit. "You're going to hold them together, Willow. You're stronger than your magic, and you can control it."

For old time's sake, she agreed to a night out at the Bronze. She hoped it would ease their fears and worries about her future trip, and when everyone came back to the house and Revello Drive, Buffy looked at each of their faces and bid them goodnight.

She wrote a long letter explaining what had really happened with the demon, and how she was going to go away and not come back, so she could stay in the other reality. Buffy couldn't stress how much it wasn't their fault, how she felt she could do so much more with Sam and Dean and Bobby.

Buffy crept out during the night and never looked back.

…

The gray, dull buildings tarnished the landscape. She was used to seeing bright, vibrant colors of the rainbow across the horizon - on the buildings people lived and worked in, on the clothes they wore, and even on their skin. Here in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania, things were bleak. The colors around her were muted and it felt stifling. She'd grown up in California, and hadn't ever called any other place home. She'd never appreciated it until now.

A breeze blew through the cracks of the windows of the small hotel room and Buffy shivered and she pulled the long sleeved shirt around her, trying to warm her skin.

The view was depressing so she turned back to the equally depressing hotel room. Two small beds, a bedside table, a dresser and a pathetic excuse for a television were her only company. The bathroom was a small blessing because the hot water hadn't run out on her yet, but she suspected that was because Angel had pulled some strings with the owner to make sure she was taken care of.

This was going to be her home in this reality now. Her body would take care of itself, going through the primal needs to keep surviving. Her body would eat, exercise, and clean itself but her mind would be far away in the other reality, where she could fight because she chose it, not because she was chosen.

As Buffy fell against the bed, she closed her eyes. The journey had been long and she was tired. After a short meditation, she'd be back in Bobby's house and the boys would bring her hot chocolate as long as they were bullied into it, and she'd milk it for all she could.

She fell asleep with a small smile on her face. When she awoke, she stretched, her smile still firmly in place. "I think I could use some hot cocoa, guys."

She shivered and realized that she shouldn't have been this cold in Bobby's house. Panic forced her eyes open and horror crept in. She was still lying on the bed in Pennsylvania, staring at the peeling wallpaper that was out of style even when it was made. Her breaths came in short bursts as she slowly sat up.

"No," she whispered. It hadn't worked. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She'd gone to sleep to get here and was supposed to be able to clear her mind, think of the other reality, and get back the same way.

Frantic, she tried to calm down and lie back down on the stale comforter of the bed and focus on Sam and Dean and Bobby, but the connection was gone. Every other flashback had been flighty and light, but she was grounded now. It was like the tie to the other reality was gone, and she was forced to remain here.

Buffy sat in the middle of the bed and cried.

Notes and Acknowledgments

I know that I ended it, as I've been told repeatedly, at a cruel place, there's a reason for it. This is actually part I of Sound of Madness. The original was too epically massive to do for the Big Bang, and so I worked hard and finished the first half of the story for this. If you're fond of angst and making characters miserable, I invite you to read and leave it at that. Otherwise, I'll work on the second part of the fic and post it at a later date.

While this isn't the first big bang I've done this year, this is actually the first one to be posted, and it couldn't have happened without my lovely beta and best friend, Jacy Evans. Without her, this most certainly wouldn't have happened because A) she pointed me in the direction of this big bang in the first place, and B) she was there every step of the way and made sure this got done, literally cheering me on as I made these posts and submitted them. Words can't express how much you helped me, even when you were pulling your hair out over your own fic for this big bang. And yes, even though I would have come after you with a shotgun for pointing out that my POV shifts sucked, showing me places that needed to be cut and patiently reminding me that not every pronoun ends in 'd, this story is better because of you (no really, btw).

And this fic was made even more special because of my amazing artist Ataventure. I can't draw a stick figure to save my life and the only thing I can do with graphics is write my name in Paint, but the things you did with the images are awe-inspiring. They turned out better than I hoped, and I proudly send people your way when they ask about my beautiful background on my laptop. I'm very proud of it, and couldn't have asked for a better artist to work with. Artwork can be found here.