A/N: This chapter skips ahead in time a few weeks and picks up a few days before Thanksgiving. This week, we're going to 'big orange' country, as in The University of Tennessee. As someone who has never cared anything about sports, I often forget how seriously some folks take such issues. I've actually gotten a few PMs telling me that UT sucks (shrugs).

The chapter title (Strange Brew) is a Cream song from the album Disraeli Gears (1967).

Thanks to my beta isugirl.

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Chapter 15 – Strange Brew

The last couple of weeks had been even more stressful than usual. It seemed that Eve was finally tired of messing around. She was coming at them full force and her target was obviously the virgin Slayers. For almost a solid week, she'd sent her armies to attack the Council buildings, particularly the dormitories. At night she would send vampires and other creatures that had to hide in the darkness and during the day she would send her less solar-sensitive children. It had essentially been a suicide mission, because whatever did manage to make it past the Slayers on the ground and the Winchester's sniper rifles on the rooftops had pretty much been fried on contact with the buildings. Willow's spells were extremely powerful and, ironically, she had Eve to thank for part of her success. Dragon's blood was the big kahuna of spell ingredients and, thanks to her, they had gallons of it. It was disgusting and smelly, but very effective. So effective, that for the past several days, things had gone extremely quiet. Too quiet. There had been no further attacks on the Council and the action in the city seemed to have quieted down to pre-Mommy levels. It was almost worse than being under constant siege, because now everyone was on edge in anticipation of how and when Eve would strike next.

Given the crazy amount of pressure they were all under, it wasn't a surprise to Buffy that Dean was having one of his nightmares again and, as usual, she wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. It was horrible to watch him suffer, but he seemed incredibly self-conscious if she woke him or tried to get him to talk about it. Sometimes the dreams were brief and he'd settle back into a quiet sleep, but, more often than not, he would wake up panicky and gasping for air. When that happened, he would usually pull her against him and hold her until his breathing evened out and his heart quit slamming inside of his chest. In those instances, Buffy found it was best to just pretend to be sleeping. It seemed like that was the only comfort he would allow her to give him, so she went along and if he suspected her deception, he never let on.

This time when he woke up, Buffy decided to try a new approach. She thought that maybe if she revealed some of her own traumatic history, it might draw him out and help him to talk about what was bothering him so much.

She turned on her side and propped her head up on her elbow facing him. "Hey," she said softly.

Dean, who'd been lying on his back attempting to catch his breath, startled a little when she spoke. "Sorry," he said, obviously embarrassed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," she said as she slid over so that she could lay her head on his chest. "You know," she began hesitantly, "for a long time I used to have the same nightmare every single night. I'd suddenly come to in my coffin and then I'd have to claw my way out. It was awful and it was always the same. I thought those dreams would never stop, but they finally did."

"Did that actually happen?" he asked in surprise.

"Yep, it happened. I was dead and buried and six feet under for about four months. Then poof, I'm alive again, but, unfortunately, still buried and six feet under. Surprisingly, it's those minor details that can make or break a successful resurrection."

Her voice was light, but Dean could tell that this wasn't a very easy story for her to tell. It sure as hell wasn't an easy story for him to hear. One of his greatest fears was that this life would end up killing her and apparently, that had already happened at least once.

"What happened to you?" he asked, although he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

"Hell God," she replied. "A really bitchy one too. She opened this portal to her super-fun hell world and the only way to close it was for one of the Summers girls to die. So, I kinda decided that should be me and took a swan dive into the portal. The rest is history."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "Did you go to hell?" he asked cautiously.

Buffy gave a forced laugh. She hated talking about this. "No. Jeez, am I that terrible to live with?" she teased, hoping to lighten this horribly dark subject.

"Of course not," he replied seriously. "I thought that maybe since you fell into that portal… I thought maybe you got sucked in. Never mind," he said, sounding irritated with himself. "I was just being stupid. You'd never end up in hell."

"Don't feel bad, that was the general consensus. It's why Willow brought me back. Everybody thought I was in hell, so I got sucked out of heaven and dropped back on the Hellmouth… right in the middle of a demon motorcycle rally too. I think you'd call that 'good times'. It might possibly be 'irony' too, but don't quote me on that because I'm never quite sure how to use that word. Anyway, I'm glad to be back now," she said sincerely, "I really am. There's a whole lot I would've missed out on."

"Willow brought you back?" he asked in amazement. "Damn, I knew she was pretty powerful, but something like that takes some serious chops."

"That's a whole other story," Buffy added dryly. "Let's just say she won't be working that spell again."

"Well, I guess I kinda owe her one."

"Yeah," she grinned, "I guess we both do. And you wouldn't even drink her healing tea. You'd have been back on your feet twice as fast, but no, you thought Willow was trying to poison you."

"I didn't think she was trying to poison me," he scoffed. "I'm just not a tea drinker. But maybe if she bottled her mojo in a beer…"

"Trust me, you don't want any magic beer," Buffy interrupted. "That stuff's bad mojo. Very bad."

After a few moments, when it seemed that Dean wasn't going to say anything else, she added, "So… you're not gonna leave me here hanging, sounding like some crazy girl who likes to blurt out her life-slash-death story, are you? Cause that might make me feel kinda lame. Or are you just too freaked out by the fact that your girlfriend's a zombie?"

"Please, you're not a zombie. Trust me, I'm a hunter. I'm pretty damn good at picking up on little details like that. Besides, you smell way too good."

"Does that mean you're not gonna tell me what your nightmare was about?"

"I don't even remember it. Some freaky-ass hunt probably," he said dismissively. "I just need to quit eatin' junk before I go to bed." He rolled on his side and tucked her against him. "We should try to get back to sleep," he said. "I have a feeling I'll need to be on my toes when I go and get Dawn tomorrow."

Buffy sighed in disappointment. Her plan to draw him out had failed, but on the bright side, he didn't seem too worried that she might want to snack on his brains while he slept. At least that was a bonus.

"You're a trooper to go pick up Dawn for Thanksgiving," she remarked. "I could tell Giles really didn't want me to leave town. Just be warned, you don't know how annoying she can be on a long car ride."

"It's only five hours. She can survive in the trunk for that long. Don't worry, I'll give her a bottle of water and a bathroom break. She'll be fine."

Buffy snorted a giggle. "That ought to be loads of fun. I'm sorry I'll miss it."

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Dawn let out a blood curdling scream when she opened the door to her dorm room and saw some strange guy looking under her bed.

"Dean!" she exclaimed angrily when she realized who it was. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"The door was unlocked," he shrugged innocently, giving her his most charming smile.

Dawn folded her arms and stared at him critically. "Yeah right. So what are you looking for? I'm pretty sure I don't have any vampires stashed under my bed."

"I dunno… hex bags maybe? You can never be too careful."

She crossed the room and grabbed the device Dean was holding out of his hand. "What is this thing?"

"EMF detector."

"Seriously? Like those dorks on those ghost hunter shows? That's lame Dean," she stated with an eyeroll. "No wonder you're perfect for my sister. You're both giant, socially-retarded weirdos."

Dean just grinned at her. "Good to see you too, Dawn. How's Rusty?"

"It was Russ and he's ancient history. We're not even dating anymore. Haven't been for like two months."

"What the hell?" Dean asked irritably. "You mean your sister's spent all this time worrying that you might get skinned by some psycho and you weren't even dating him?"

Dawn ducked her head in embarrassment. "I never told her we were still dating… I just kinda forgot to tell her that we weren't. I didn't wanna hear an 'I told you so', okay?"

"So he was a psycho," Dean said as he watched Dawn carefully for a reaction.

"He was a little jealous and controlling," she admitted, "but don't worry, I got rid of him before he chained me to a wall or anything."

"Are you sure, because I –,"

Dawn cut him off in exasperation. "I'm sure Dean. I can take care of myself you know. It's completely over. I've moved on. But, unfortunately, I've moved on alone because now nobody will date me," she added bitterly.

"Why not?"

"Because I think they're scared of him. It's so ridiculous. Once we got back from Xander's wedding he got all obsessed with the supernatural and magic and stuff. He thinks he's some kind of dark wizard now. Like he'd even know a dark wizard if he saw one. What a wannabe."

"No shit? Man, don't tell Willow. She already has this cracked-out theory."

"Trust me," Dawn said. "I wouldn't tell her under torture. It would only make her fully embrace her delusions. Believe me, I don't wanna go there. Just please don't tell Buffy. Please. I swear I'll tell her we're not going out anymore, but she'll just worry if she knows about the other stuff. Besides, it's so embarrassing. I move off the Hellmouth to get away from all the crazy and I end up dating Draco Malfoy's half-wit, redneck cousin. I'm a freak magnet. I hate my life," she ended dramatically.

"Oh come on," Dean said, suddenly feeling like he'd been dropped inside the weirdest chick flick ever made. "You'll find somebody else," he said encouragingly. "It's not that dire."

"It is," Dawn disagreed. "I'm joining a nunnery. You just watch me."

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Sam spotted one of the young Slayers leaving Buffy's office, obviously in tears. It was Trish. He didn't know her very well since she was one of the fifteen on lockdown, but at six-feet tall, she was kind of hard to miss. He'd always felt sympathy for the girl, because she was obviously self-conscious. He knew what it was like to be skinny as a rail and way taller than the rest of your teenage peers. It had to be ten times worse for a girl.

He tried to get her attention by calling her name, but he immediately regretted it because she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes before shaking her head mutely and hurrying down the hall toward the dormitories. Sam stood in indecision for a moment, unsure if he should go after her. The girl was notoriously shy and might just prefer it if he left her alone. He decided he'd pop into Buffy's office and see if he could find out what was going on.

The door was open and Buffy was sitting behind her desk staring glumly at her computer screen. Sam knocked on the doorframe to alert her to his presence.

"Hey Sam," Buffy said as she looked up and smiled in greeting.

"Hey," he replied. "I was just wondering what was up with Trish?"

Buffy sighed. "She flew off the handle and punched Carrie during weapon's training. Knocked her out cold."

"And you're making her cry over that?" Sam asked half-jokingly. "I thought that would earn her a medal."

"I only shoved a couple of bamboo shoots under her fingernails," she said innocently. "I think I let her off easy. Believe me," she added more seriously, "I barely gave her a token scolding and I had a hard time keeping a straight face for that. I just don't think she's dealing with the new, heavy-duty lockdown situation."

"Yeah," Sam agreed sympathetically. "That has to be tough on those girls. It's hard to imagine not even being able to step outside and get some fresh air. I thought my dad was bad, but that just has to be brutal."

"Tell me about it," Buffy said. "And to make matters worse, she has no family coming in this week for Thanksgiving. Her parents are dead and her grandmother's too sick to travel. The poor girl's miserable and freaked and here I am playing the part of the evil prison warden. I suck."

"You do not," Sam assured her. "You don't have a choice. Besides, aren't we all about to crack?"

Before Buffy could reply, Andrew swept into the room clutching a paperback novel against his chest. "I've finally found a world to rival Star Wars," he announced dramatically.

"Speaking of cracked," Buffy replied in amusement. "What are you fan-boying over this week?"

"Oh I'm more than a fan-boy," Andrew assured her passionately. "I'm a disciple."

Sam shook his head in amazement. This dude was certainly enthusiastic. "Well, that sounds serious," he remarked.

Andrew spun around and stared at Sam for a moment with something very close to worship in his eyes.

"Are you Carver Edlund?" he asked. "Or is it Dean?"

Sam just stared at him in shocked horror. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Even Winchester luck wasn't this bad.

Andrew continued, apparently oblivious to the fact that Sam had just turned several shades of green. "I just finished the latest book and it was a powerful experience. Completely epic. Although I still think the one where Dean gets dragged off to hell is the best. You're so lucky," he said as he turned to face Buffy. "Dean was so brave. He was just like Han Solo when he was about to be frozen in carbonite. But in this last book," he continued, spinning back around to face Sam. "When Dean told you about the things he had to do in hell… It was so moving." Andrew stopped and stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment. "I shed a few tears myself," he said wistfully.

"Let me see that," Sam said tightly as he snatched the paperback from Andrew's hands.

He quickly confirmed that Chuck was publishing again, because he didn't remember seeing this particular volume, which was titled Heaven and Hell. He shook his head at the absurd Harlequin Romance figures on the cover before flipping the book over to read the summary on the back.

In this exciting new installment to the Supernatural series, Sam and Dean are caught between the powerful forces of heaven and hell when, with the aide of the now-blind psychic Pamela, they discover the shocking truth about beautiful and troubled young Anna Milton. With the assistance of the enigmatic demon Ruby, the heroic hunters must face the seemingly insurmountable task of fending off both angels and demons as they desperately search for a way to save her. Will the two brave brothers be able to deliver Anna from certain death and deal with devastating new revelations regarding Dean's true role in hell?

"Dammit!" he cursed loudly. "Couldn't that asshole throw in a few more adjectives?"

"I thought it was wonderful," Andrew disagreed, sounding rather insulted at this affront to his new favorite writer. "Carver's the new J.K. Rowling… or maybe the new Neil Gaiman. Of course these books are much more adult," he added. "The passion is intense. Oh Buffy, you are such a lucky woman."

Buffy observed the whole scene in a state of complete confusion. She had no clue what was happening here. Sam looked like he was going to be sick and Andrew sounded like he was having a religious experience. She hadn't seen him this wound up since they cancelled that Firefly show.

"Huh?" she said.

Then, Sam stood up suddenly, knocking over the chair he'd been sitting in. He had the paperback crushed in one fist and slowly advanced on Andrew with narrowed eyes.

"I swear," he ground out, "If you ever breathe one word of this to my brother, I will kill you. This," he said, holding the crumpled book in front of the smaller man's terrified face, "is none of your business. Do you get that?"

Buffy quickly stepped between Sam and an extremely pale Andrew. "Sam," she said sharply. "Do you care to explain the crazy? Because I can't just let you crush poor Andrew, even if he is insane," she added with a puzzled glance in the other man's direction.

Sam turned his attention to Buffy. "You don't understand," he began angrily. "These books –,"

"Let me see that," she said, reaching out a hand to take the paperback. She was shocked when he actually held his arm up over his head so that the book would be well out of her reach. This was getting almost comical. What the hell was going on here?

"Seriously?" she asked with her hands on her hips. "You're really going to make me climb you? Because you know I can."

Sam set his jaw and glared back stubbornly, keeping the book held high over his head. "You do what you have to, but I'm not handing over this book. Dean wouldn't want you to see it. It's an invasion of privacy."

She stared at Sam in amazement for a moment and then a look of horror slowly began to spread across her features. "Are you saying that what Andrew said is actually true? Dean really went to hell? The hell? And it's in that book?"

"He didn't tell you?" he asked, although it came out more like a statement than an actual question. The devastated expression on Buffy's face only confirmed his suspicions.

"Andrew," he said firmly. "Why don't you go get yourself a cup of coffee?"

"But I can't drink coffee this late in the day," he whined. "It makes me all edgy."

"Then brew some decaf!" Sam practically yelled.

"Okay," he agreed quietly, "but can I have my book back first?"

"NO!"

Once they were alone, Sam lowered his arm and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry Buffy," he said sincerely. "You shouldn't have found out this way."

When she remained standing speechless in front of him, he asked her to sit down. There was no avoiding it. He was going to have to tell her what he knew. It was better than her reading it in those God-awful books and if Dean found out about this little scene, he'd be humiliated. He'd have to have another (and hopefully calmer) conversation with Andrew where he would impress upon him the wisdom of keeping his big trap shut and making better choices in reading materials.

After taking a moment or two to collect his thoughts (and his temper) Sam reluctantly gave Buffy the lowdown on Carver Edlund, aka Chuck the Prophet, and his stupid ass, poorly written books. Then he told her about Dean's crossroads deal and the few details he knew about his time in hell. She just sat stunned and listened quietly through it all.

"Don't hold it against him," he said in conclusion. "He really wasn't responsible for doing those things. I don't know how he held out as long as he did."

"Do you really think I'd do that?" Buffy asked angrily as tears fell from her eyes. "Really? You think I could actually blame him?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. No, I don't think that," he assured her. "But you have to understand that Dean can't forgive himself. I don't know if he ever will. That's why he hasn't told you. He doesn't want you to think he's a monster."

"That's what he dreams about isn't it?" she asked quietly.

"Pretty sure," Sam confirmed. "He won't talk about it, but he never had nightmares like that before he went. So yeah, I'd say that's a safe bet."

He grabbed a few tissues from the box on the desk and offered them to Buffy, who accepted them with a quiet "thank you".

"You can't tell him," he continued. "He'd be so humiliated if he thought you found out this way. Besides, he might actually kill Andrew," he added half-seriously. "And I know I can't stop you, but please don't read those books. They're just too personal. It's like reading someone's diary. Plus, they're the most horribly written pieces of crap I've ever read. Seriously, I can't believe people actually buy that trash."

"I'm not much of a reader," she mumbled absently.

There was no way to put into words how incredibly sad Buffy felt. Dean had clawed his way out of his grave too, but he'd been in hell not heaven. She couldn't believe she'd actually joked when he asked if she went to hell. How was she supposed to know? Dean was the last person who deserved to go to hell. She wanted to see him so badly. She suddenly had an irrational fear that he was dead and suffering in hell right now. It was horrible and terrifying and she couldn't get the image out of her head. She desperately needed to talk to him, just so she could hear his voice and assure herself that he was okay, but she'd have to try and compose herself first. Sam was right. He didn't need to know she'd found out this way. She'd have to wait until he finally opened up. Buffy wiped her eyes and stood up to excuse herself when Sam's phone started ringing.

"It's Dean," he said when he looked at the display.

Buffy felt her heart leap into her throat. It was probably nothing, but part of her was convinced that something horrible must have happened.

"Hey," Sam answered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Dude!" his brother's voice exclaimed across the line. "Willow was right. That Russ guy is a freakin' dark wizard. You've gotta help me find out how to reverse a curse."

"Dean, what are you talking about?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Buffy looked completely panicked and it was rubbing off on him.

"He cursed me Sammy. It's the worst thing that's ever happened. Man you don't even know. I'm gonna shoot that bastard."

Sam held his hand up to halt Buffy, who looked ready to rip the phone from his ear. "Calm down," he said to his brother. "Just tell me what happened."

"I think he poisoned my beer, Sam. It's orange! It's bright, God dammed, UT Vols' orange. I'm gonna kill him!"

"The beer's orange?"

"No, man it's orange. I went to take a piss and suddenly it's orange. Really orange. The frank and the beans, Sam – all orange. I look like some deranged fan. Man we've gotta get this fixed, I'm freaking the hell out! But dude," he said more quietly, "don't tell Buffy and whatever you do, you can't tell Willow. If she finds out Dawn goes to Hillbilly Hogwarts, she'll drive us all friggin nuts."

"Dean, I'm pretty sure we have to tell Willow. She'll be able to –," Sam held the phone away from his ear when his brother's scream threatened to deafen him. "What the hell?"

"Holy fuck! I looked at it again. Sammy, it's horrible."

"Then don't loo-," Sam's sentence was cut off when Buffy snatched the phone away from him and held it to her ear.

"Honey you're scaring me," she said in a tearful voice. "I heard you scream. What's going on?"

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If Dawn thought her life sucked before, she was wrong, because now it truly sucked out loud. Why, she wondered, couldn't those monks have left out Buffy's bad luck gene when they made her? Sure, they made her out of Buffy, but they didn't have to be identical twins. They certainly didn't look alike. But no, apparently her sister's freaky cursed life was an essential ingredient.

She and Dean had gone out to get a bite to eat before heading back to Cleveland. Everything seemed normal enough, but then her lamo ex-boyfriend just happened to show up at the exact same pizza joint. He was being really nice too. He came over and said hello and he didn't even make any snide comments. She should've known he was up to something. At least now she knew why she couldn't get a date. Apparently Mister-Wannabe-Wizard had a few tricks up his sleeve after all. He'd somehow slipped something into Dean's beer and wound up cursing him in places that she really didn't want to think about. This was her older sister's even older boyfriend. She didn't want to think about him having those parts. It was just gross and disturbing.

Dean, like any man, was not coping well with this particular situation. The only thing that had kept him from committing armed homicide was the fact that Dawn had convinced him that they might need Russ alive to break the curse. She'd hoped that her salvation would be the fact that Dean could call on his brother to figure this thing out. She really didn't want her sister and Willow in on this one. Without them involved, she could keep this embarrassing part of her dating history a deep, dark secret. Because after what had just happened, she was damn sure Dean wasn't going to tell anybody. But no, that one small favor was too much to ask of the petty gods that run the universe. Buffy had found out and seeing as how Willow had just appeared in her dorm room, she was obviously in the know too. Fabulous.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled miserably when he saw Willow appear.

"Hi Dean," she said hesitantly before turning to Dawn. "Hi Dawnie. You know, I always suspected -,"

"Shut up," Dawn groaned before hiding her head under a pillow. Her independent college life was over. She might as well just move back to the Hellmouth.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face before standing up and facing the very embarrassed looking witch. "I don't have to show you, do I?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Willow said as she turned a little redder. "Please don't."

"Thank God."

Willow spent a few moments digging through the large bag she had with her before pulling out a small vial and handing it to Dean. "I think this'll do it," she said. "It's an all purpose counter-curse. If not, I'm sure I can find something that will… uh, you know, fix you."

Dean steeled himself to drink what he was pretty sure was going to taste like ass. He wasn't disappointed either. It was actually even worse than ass. It was more like ass that had been left out in the hot sun for a while. Plus, he almost choked on the crap when Willow informed him that his brother and Buffy and possibly even Faith were all currently riding to the 'rescue'. Apparently it drained Willow's batteries too much if she had to bring that many people along. Now the Hellmouth was left largely unguarded just because some douche bag had turned his junk orange. What did those three intend to do about it anyway? When this was over, he was gonna kill Sam.

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Dean watched in puzzled amazement as Dawn and Willow played with the white rat formerly known as Russ. The little bastard was actually pretty friendly and it seemed to love having its belly rubbed, although there was no way Dean was getting anywhere near the nasty little vermin. The two girls seemed happy with it though. They had even named it 'Russel Scabbers'. Chicks were weird.

Willow said that she'd turn Russ back soon. She just wanted him to learn a lesson about messing with 'the dark arts'. Honestly, Dean could give a rat's ass (pun definitely intended). He normally wasn't a big fan of using magic against humans, but in this instance, he couldn't find it in himself to give a crap. Dude could live out his life running on a tiny little wheel for all he cared. He really owed the witch one. The potion had worked. She'd truly saved his life. He'd have to give her a pass on the witchcraft thing from now on.

He still had to face his 'rescuers' though. That was bound to be fun, if 'fun' meant the most humiliating moment of his life.

When the dreaded knock finally came, Dean braced himself for the inevitable ribbing. Sam and Faith didn't disappoint. They looked amused as hell. He was sure he'd never hear the end of it from them. Buffy, however, was a complete surprise.

She flew across the room and nearly tackled him. She was kissing him and hugging him and was practically in tears. Apparently, she was as upset about the thought of losing 'it' as he was (maybe even more). Huh, he guessed he really was the man. She kept asking him over and over again if he was okay. It was kind of embarrassing, but still completely awesome. Damn he loved this girl.

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A/N: I know that parts of that may have veered into the land of crackfic, but I felt the need to be a little silly. From here on out, things will probably get pretty bumpy since Eve's back, Crowley's Crowley, and Cas is still being a butt-head.