A/N: Thanks to my beta isugirl. Hope everyone in the good 'ole US of A has a wonderful Thanksgiving!
The chapter title is an Alice Cooper song from the album Welcome to My Nightmare (1975).
Chapter 22 – Welcome to My Nightmare
Buffy was trapped in the odd space between being fully asleep and fully awake. It was a space where the reality of the world around her often began to seep and blend into her dreams. The semi-conscious portion of her mind was busy trying to decide if the distant screams she was hearing were real or just another part of the dream she was having. Before she was able to put much thought into it, she was jerked completely out of her sleep by the sensation of a slight vibration coming from the floor beneath her. It was kind of like someone in the building was throwing something heavy around. The feeling was similar to one of the very minor earthquakes that were so common when she'd lived in California. It was subtle and probably wouldn't even wake most people, but it caused her Slayer senses to start screaming. The prophetic dream/nightmare she'd been having was coming true. She was sure of it. She had to move.
The slight jarring sensation woke Dean as well. He didn't have Slayer senses, but Buffy had discovered that a lifetime of hunting had instilled a heightened sense of awareness in him that was almost as good.
"What the hell was that?" he asked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.
By this time, Buffy was already on her feet and on her way towards the door. She was still wearing the pair of long-sleeved, silky pajamas she'd worn to bed, but she wasn't about to fool around with stopping to put on actual clothes.
"It's Crowley. He's here for Trish. I have to get to the dorms," she said urgently as she jerked the door open and took off down the hallway at a full run. The sound of Dean's voice echoed after her, but she didn't have time to stay and explain. He'd just have to catch up.
She met Faith halfway down the hallway. The other girl was obviously in a state of high alarm as well and, like her, she hadn't taken the time to get dressed. She was only wearing a t-shirt, but it was big enough to fall past her mid thighs (obviously it belonged to Sam). The two silently exchanged a brief glance before continuing toward the dorms. Words weren't necessary when it was obvious they both had the same goal in mind. The sounds of yelling and what sounded like furniture being thrown around became louder as they got closer and made both girls push themselves even harder to get there before it was too late.
When they entered the main dorm room, Buffy froze for a brief second. Even though she'd been a Slayer for nearly a decade, it was still shocking and surreal to see a prophetic dream come to life in such accurate detail.
The rows of bunk beds had been pushed to the sides of the room and some of the wooden frames lay splintered about the floor. Quite a few of the young Slayers were amid the wreckage nursing injuries or lying unconscious (at least Buffy hoped they were just unconscious). The rest appeared to be in a standoff with the group that stood in the middle of the room where two heavily muscled men held Trish by each arm.
At first glance, the men looked like ordinary humans who spent way too much time in the gym, but Buffy knew they were demons. Trish had a few bruises and scrapes on her face, but still looked defiant. Buffy noted with satisfaction that one of the demons had a black eye and the other was bleeding heavily from his nose. At least she'd gotten a few good shots in before they'd managed to subdue her. A third man stood beside the two demons. He was wearing an expensive looking, tailored suit and appeared unruffled and even slightly bored by the chaos around him. Buffy immediately recognized him from her dream. This was Crowley, King of Hell.
"If it isn't Fluffy and Faith," he greeted with a smirk. "I've been waiting. I wondered when you ladies would get around to joining us. Where's -?" he began to ask, but stopped when the Winchesters appeared in the doorway behind the two women. Both were bare-foot and bare-chested since they'd only taken the time to pull on their jeans before following after the Slayers.
"What a homoerotic nightmare you two are," Crowley remarked with a sneer. "Have you been working out, Sam?"
"Bite me," Sam replied tightly.
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Thank you, but I'll pass."
"How did you get in here, Crowley?" Dean asked.
Crowley smiled smugly at Dean before replying. "It's actually quite easy when you have some borrowed mojo from friends in high places. Seems your witch's nifty little protection spells don't work so well against those types."
The demon looked to the far side of the room as he said this. Buffy followed his gaze and gasped when she realized that Willow was pinned halfway up the wall. She appeared to be conscious, but looked extremely dazed and had blood dripping from her nose and mouth.
"Put her down and let Trish go," Buffy ordered angrily.
"Or what? Are you going to bore me to death with tales of you and your kept boy's thrilling sexual escapades?" he asked as he nodded toward Dean. "Granted, that is a frightening prospect, but I think I'll take my chances."
"No," Buffy replied calmly. "I was thinking I'd reach into your chest and rip out your rib cage instead."
"Oh really? Do give us a demonstration," Crowley said as he held his arms wide in invitation.
"Buffy don't," Dean warned from behind her.
Buffy heard the warning, but it wasn't helping because she wasn't going to the demon by choice. She was being pulled forward by an invisible force and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She tried to dig in and resist, but only succeeded in getting a nasty case of rug burn on her heels. When she finally came to a halt in front of him, she leveled a punch at the demon's infuriatingly smug face. Crowley barely flinched when the blow struck, then casually pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the few drops of blood that had formed at the corner of his mouth.
"You've got quite the punch there kitten," he observed with an amused smirk. "It makes me tingly in some very naughty places."
Buffy frowned and drew back her fist again. She'd just have to hit harder this time. Before her fist made contact, Crowley grabbed her wrist in one of his hands and twisted her arm hard as he spun her around. Buffy gave an involuntary cry of pain when her shoulder popped out of its socket. She thrashed and kicked as he pinned her against him, but he didn't seem at all bothered by her struggles. He was easily able to hold her still with her back against his chest. Despite his appearance, he was apparently much stronger than the muscle bound minions he'd brought along with him.
"You son of a bitch," Dean spat angrily as he bolted forward. "I'll fucking kill you!"
"I'd suggest you watch that potty mouth of yours, Dean," Crowley said tightly. "You wouldn't want me to feel threatened now would you? I might accidentally snap your pretty little girlfriend's neck in all the excitement." Crowley clamped one hand around Buffy's throat and began squeezing. "Do you think if I squeeze hard enough her eyeballs will pop out?" he asked curiously. "I've always wanted to test that theory. Besides, I haven't had the pleasure of putting a Slayer on the rack before. I'm betting she'd last a bit longer than the average girl. Imagine the possibilities,"he added with a grin.
Buffy felt panic welling up inside of her as her oxygen supply was cut off. Instinctively she tried to reach up and claw at the hand that was crushing her throat, but she couldn't move a muscle. It was like she was encased in concrete. She could only stare helplessly at Dean, whose gaze was desperately locked on hers. She'd never seen him looking so completely terrified before. He usually hid fear well, but this time it was written all over his face.
"Ahh, poor Dean," Crowley remarked almost gleefully. "What's wrong? You're looking a bit green around the gills. Perhaps you should have a seat before you pass out."
"Let her go, Crowley," Dean ordered. "If you hurt her - I promise you - I will dedicate my life to making sure you're a pile of ash. Trust me, you don't want me on your ass."
"Now there's the Dean I've come to know and detest," Crowley remarked with a cold smile. "I have to agree that you are right about that. I'd hoped you and your brother would stay out of my hair this time around. By the way," he said curiously when he noticed that Sam was no longer standing in the doorway. "Where is little Sammy? He wouldn't be trying to sneak up behind me with that pesky knife, would he?" he asked without bothering to turn his head.
With an exaggerated sigh of exasperation, the demon released his hold on Buffy's throat and snapped his fingers once. Sam yelled in pain and surprise as the sickening sound of his wrist breaking filled the room. The blade fell from his now useless hand and clattered to the floor behind Crowley, who briefly glanced behind him and raised his eyebrows at Sam in smug satisfaction.
"You just signed your death warrant," Faith promised angrily as she launched herself toward the demon. Crowley just rolled his eyes and flicked his hand casually. Faith's body hurtled backwards through the air and crashed into one of the bunks that were lined up against the walls. The back of her head connected with the bed's wooden railing with a loud thud before she fell to the floor in a limp pile.
Crowley chuckled when Sam cried out and rushed to Faith's side. He pulled the unresponsive Slayer's head onto his lap using his one good arm and clumsily attempted to assess her injuries.
"Are we done here?" the demon asked. "Any more valiant and useless displays of aggression? Because as fun as this little game is, I do have more pressing matters to attend to. Dean," he said, returning his gaze to the oldest Winchester. "I'm afraid I will have to bring little Muffy along with me. Consider her my anti-pest insurance policy. If you, your overgrown baby brother, and all of the mini-Slayers can behave yourselves, I won't harm one hair on her pretty, chemically processed head. Otherwise," he emphasized, "I do have some leftover inmates in my menagerie of monsters. They haven't been fed in a while. So, I'm sure they'd enjoy snacking on your lady... and your precious little spawn," he added cruelly. "I doubt there's enough meat on that one yet to account for more than a bite, but I'm sure it would be quite the tender little morsel."
"Crowley!" Dean exclaimed with a clear edge of panic in his voice.
"What is it, Dean?" he asked. "Are you going to get down on your knees and beg me not to take your woman away? You know, an offer like that is actually quite tempting," Crowley said as he paused thoughtfully and then smiled at the mental picture he'd formed. "Little Fluffy and your brat in exchange for watching you grovel and crawl… That bargain would be worth it, even if it didn't include your soul. Too bad I have bigger fish to fry," he added, sounding almost disappointed.
"Then take me instead," Dean offered in a tone that was very close to being desperate. "Let her go and take me… or you could just kill me right now and get it over with. You know you want to."
Buffy widened her eyes at Dean and silently pleaded for him to be quiet. She could kill him herself. This falling on his sword act was so infuriating and so typical. She wasn't giving up yet. If Crowley took her, she'd find some way of escaping. Of course she couldn't say any of this to Dean because the demon had regained his crushing hold on her throat.
"Of course I want to kill you," Crowley agreed. "I'd like nothing more than to vaporize you and your idiot brother where you stand. Actually, I'd like to vaporize the entire lot of you," he said as he swept his gaze around the room in distaste. "Unfortunately, my new partner has plans for the Winchesters and he seems to think that the rest of you supergirls will be of some use in the coming apocalypse. He believes you'll even his odds or some nonsense," he remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You can blame your angelic best friend for all of this," he added as he returned his gaze to Dean. "If he hadn't decided to spill our secrets and back out on his part of the deal, I'd have been content to let you two simpletons continue playing house and breeding more morons. At least I would've had the amusement of watching as the human gene pool rapidly deteriorated before my very eyes. But now," he said as he paused to press a kiss against the top of Buffy's head and wink at Dean, "I've been forced to make alternative arrangements."
"You bastard!" Dean yelled as he rushed Crowley, not caring that he had no chance against him. He was way beyond rational thought. The uninjured Slayers decided to follow his lead, but they found only empty space when they arrived at the spot where the five had been standing. The King of Hell and his minions were gone and so were Buffy and Trish. They'd disappeared.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Here you are ladies," Crowley said as he shoved Buffy into one of the empty cells that had once held a few of his unfortunate 'informants'. "Home sweet home"
Buffy stumbled from the force of Crowley's shove, but Trish caught her and steadied her before she fell. Buffy was grateful for that too, because the floor was not something she wanted much contact with. She wasn't even going to think about her poor bare feet at the moment.
"I think you need to fire your cleaning crew," Buffy observed with a sneer as she watched Crowley lock the door to her prison.
"My apologies," he replied. "The previous guests were practically animals. Absolutely no self-respect. I haven't had a chance to tidy up."
"That's okay," Buffy said, forcing herself to sound cheerful despite the screaming pain in her shoulder. "We won't be here long enough for it to matter."
"Is that so? I suppose you think Dean will come riding to the rescue on a big white horse," he remarked with a smirk. "Let me offer you some advice, princess. If you have any concern for yourself or that larva you're carrying, you'll hope that belligerent little thug stays put."
"He won't," Buffy said confidently. "But you should be more worried about me right now, because I'm the one who's going to rip you into tiny little bite-sized pieces. I'd tell you to ask the last wannabe Hell God that crossed me, but she's kinda dead."
"Yes of course," Crowley said in a condescending tone, "I forgot I was dealing with the great Muffy, all-powerful defender of the Hellmouth and collector of fine designer handbags. Maybe when you're gone one of those Kardashian tramps can step up and take your place. I'm certain they have a suitable shoe and handbag collection."
"It's Buffy," she reminded him with a smile, "and you'll remember that after I tear off your balding head and use it as my shiny new bowling ball."
The demon returned Buffy's smile. "Charming. I can see why you and Dean get on so well. You obviously both attended the same school of witty rejoinders." Crowley waved goodbye and started to walk away, but paused to take a parting shot. "Enjoy your stay ladies," he said pleasantly. "If you need fresh towels, just ask the Gak demon in the next cell."
As soon as the demon's footsteps faded away, Buffy turned to Trish in concern. The girl had been through a ridiculous amount of drama in the past few weeks and Buffy wasn't sure if she was still holding it together. "Are you okay?" she asked.
The girl gave her a small smile. "Would it be really weird if I said I was a whole lot better than I was yesterday? Anything beats having that crazy lady's voice in my head."
Buffy nodded. "Gotcha. I only had a short conversation with Mommy Dearest myself, but I could see how she'd get annoying pretty darn fast."
"What about you?" Trish asked with a frown as she pointed to the way Buffy's right arm was hanging at an unnatural angle. "You want me to fix that?"
"Yeah, that's a major owie," Buffy agreed with a nod. "Please fix me. I'd give you a cookie if I – OWWW!" she exclaimed when she felt her shoulder pop back into place. Trish's reflexes were as good as hers. She'd barely seen her coming. "Not trying to be ungrateful, but how about a warning!" Buffy snapped as she breathed through the pain.
Trish cringed and shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, I just heard it was better if it was unexpected."
"From who?" Buffy asked a little irritably. Her shoulder was feeling a lot better, but the surprise first aid session had still hurt like hell and it made her kind of cranky.
"From Dean," the teen answered hesitantly. "He was hanging out when Allie gave us a class on treating injuries in the field… and that's what he said to do. I figured he had more personal experience with that kinda thing."
Buffy shook her head. "Why am I not surprised? Remind me to hurt him severely when this over."
"I don't think you should," Trish said seriously. "He's totally romantic. You're so lucky."
"Dean's romantic?" Buffy asked with a laugh. "Have you ever actually met Dean? I love him dearly, but he's so not romantic. You should've heard the pitiful excuse for a marriage proposal he gave me. Believe me, it was a whole lot of no-mantic."
"I don't know," the younger girl said shyly. "He did offer to take your place today. That's pretty romantic to me. I'd be blown away if a guy did that for me."
Buffy smiled as she pondered what Trish had just said. Chosen One or not, she was obviously still a teenage girl filled with romantic ideals. "I guess he has his moments," she admitted. "But I almost had to watch him die yesterday, so I wasn't exactly impressed when he played the self-sacrificing card. He needs to stop doing that kinda thing. I'd like to keep him around and I want my baby to actually have a father."
Trish frowned and she averted her eyes to the filthy concrete floor. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I feel like this is all my fault."
"No," Buffy said firmly. "It is not your fault. You're just the lucky chosen girl. If it wasn't you, it would've been somebody else… and if it had to be somebody, I'm glad it's you," she added sincerely. "Don't tell anybody I said this, but out of all the junior Slayers, you're the one I'd want fighting at my side."
Trish looked embarrassed, but she did smile slightly. "So what do we do now?" she asked.
"We bust out of here," Buffy replied simply, then began testing the bars of their prison. She quickly realized that the demon had made sure the cell was Slayer-proof. The strength of two Slayers couldn't even make the bars budge one tiny bit. "Maybe we better sit and come up with a plan," she said finally.
Trish drew her brows together as she gazed at the cot that sat in the corner. It was the only place to sit and she obviously wasn't looking forward to it. "Do we have to?" she asked.
Buffy wrinkled her nose as she drew closer to the cot. It was disgusting. She didn't want to know what some of those stains were. "Just sit on the edge and try not to think about it," she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. "I promise I'll buy us an entire vat of Purell and we can go for a swim in it… after the ritual burning of our clothes."
The pair gathered their courage and sat down gingerly on the very edge of the mattress. Buffy observed Trish's rigid stature and the thoroughly disgusted expression on her face for a moment and then she inexplicably began to giggle. She couldn't help it. It was either laugh or cry and laughter seemed like the safest option at the moment. Here they were, two very powerful Slayers sitting in God-knows-what, wearing PJs with no shoes. Trish even had a picture of a monkey in a pink tutu on her top - and oh yeah - Buffy was pregnant and Dean was definitely losing his mind with worry right now. She hadn't had this much zany fun in years.
Trish watched Buffy with a crinkled brow for a moment. "Are you okay?" she asked uncertainly.
Buffy took a few deep breaths and tried to compose herself. "Not really," she said through a burst of giggles. "I think my brain has finally given up on me. What about you? You seem like fully-functional girl. Any bright ideas?"
Trish gazed at the floor silently for a moment before speaking. "Well… uh… I did have this dream," she began hesitantly. "I think it was a Slayer dream, but I'm not so sure because it was kinda crazy."
"They always are," Buffy said as she managed to sober up a bit.
"Seriously, it was really weird," she warned again before getting into the details. "I'm not sure where we were, but there were all these flashes of the moon and that demon was there and a bunch of other people…but I didn't recognize all of them. You, me, and Willow were –."
"Holding hands and bringing forth a giant mushroom cloud of wrath?" Buffy interrupted. She was now completely serious. "Yep," she confirmed, "I had that one too."
"So, what do you think it means?"
"It means we might have to work some majorly heavy-duty mojo to get out of this one. Here," Buffy said as she held out her left wrist and pointed to three of the charms on her bracelet.
"That's it!" the other girl exclaimed excitedly. "I kept seeing three moons, just like those."
"These are the symbol of the Triple Moon Goddess," Buffy explained. "I think it's a pagan thing. They stand for the three phases of womanhood… or life… or something like that. Anyway, this one's the maiden," she said as she pointed to the symbol of the waxing moon. "The full one's the big pregnant mother and the last one's the waning moon. It represents the crone. Will's the big expert on this stuff," she added with a shrug, "but I can try to give you the abridged and possibly not entirely accurate Buffy-version."
"Guess you better do that," Trish said.
XXXXXXXXXX
Dean sat behind Buffy's desk staring glumly at the various snapshots she had in frames on her desktop. Some were of her family and friends and some were pictures of the two of them together. His eyes kept coming back to one that Sam had taken the day he'd met Buffy. His brother had snapped it precisely because Dean looked like a giant dumbass in it. His eyes were closed, his mouth was hanging open, and he had a big blob of whipped cream on his nose. He could have killed Sam for passing the photo along to Buffy and had sworn several times that he was going to torch it, but he hadn't because Buffy looked so beautiful and happy in it. Besides, for months it had been the only memory he had of her and now he desperately hoped these photos weren't going to be all he was left with. The pain and frustration was unbearable and he realized that he finally understood his father's blind quest for vengeance. If Buffy didn't make it through this, he was going to be nothing but vengeance. It would be all that was left of him. For now, he could only hold tightly to his anger and try to keep it in the forefront of his mind. It was the only thing that could keep him going.
He looked up when he heard the door opening and saw that it was Bobby. He was carrying a bottle of whiskey and still limping from yesterday's festivities. His old friend wore the same pitying expression that everyone else had since Buffy had been taken. It was the reason he'd hidden away in her office. He didn't want sympathy or a shoulder to lean on. He wanted something he could hit.
"Hey kid," he said as he pulled up one of the chairs that sat in front of Buffy's desk. "How you holdin' up?"
"I'm fucking great, Bobby," Dean snapped with more venom than he'd intended. He knew the man didn't deserve his rage, but he couldn't seem to help himself.
"Stupid ass question," Bobby said with a sigh and then reached to place the bottle of whiskey in front of him. "Take a couple pulls off that. It might take some of the edge off."
Dean untwisted the cap from the bottle and took a long swig. He was on autopilot, so he didn't register the taste or the burn as the whiskey went down.
"Everybody seems to be more or less okay," Bobby said after Dean had sat the bottle back down. "The witch was probably the most banged up. She got a few broken ribs and a concussion, but she'll be fine. Sam's girl ended up with a few stitches and she's gonna have one bitch of a headache, but she's okay too."
"What about Sammy? Did he get his wrist set?"
"The little nurse is doin' that now. It's been pretty backed-up down there."
"That's good," Dean remarked absently as he toyed with the cap on the whiskey bottle.
"Listen Dean," Bobby began hesitantly. "I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am about all this. I can imagine –."
"That's it, Bobby," Dean interrupted as he dragged a hand across his face. "You can 'imagine'… but I know. I know exactly what kinds of things Crowley is probably doing to her right now. I can't get the images out of my mind."
Bobby frowned in sympathy. "Maybe he's not," he said. "I'm not tryin' to blow sunshine up your ass, cause we both know Crowley's an evil bastard… but he does have quite a few irons in the fire right now. Maybe he is just holdin' her for insurance. You gotta try and hold onto that."
"Maybe," Dean agreed, not sounding very convinced. "But I don't know what he needs insurance against. We don't know anything. I have no idea where he even is."
"The witch is gonna work a tracking spell."
"It won't work," Dean said flatly. "Crowley's not that stupid. He'll make sure they're off the radar."
"You're probably right," Bobby agreed reluctantly. "But I did hear an awful lot of whispering goin' on between the Slayers. All I could pick up is that it had somethin' to do with their dreams. And last time I saw Faith, she had Willow cornered and seemed to be tellin' her somethin' pretty heavy. I think they're cooking somethin' up."
"Hope so, cause I got nothin'," Dean huffed in frustration before taking another turn with the bottle.
"Well look who it is," Bobby said when the office door swung open to reveal Castiel. "Where ya been, Cas?" he asked accusingly.
Castiel stepped across the threshold and stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. He looked fatigued and there appeared to be traces of dried blood around his nose and by one of his ears. "I had to drive here," he said. "I didn't make it in time," he stated with genuine regret.
"You drove?" Dean asked incredulously. "In a car? How many people did you kill on the way? Dude, what the hell?"
"Raphael," he replied. "He was waiting for me when I went to confront Crowley. I was lucky to escape, but now I've been weakened… and I'm cut off from grace," he added shamefully. "Raphael spread the word of my treachery."
"That makes sense," Bobby said sarcastically. "Seeing as how it's pretty damn obvious he's the one in bed with Crowley these days."
"Only his closest, most trusted lieutenants are aware. The rest of heaven believes him to be righteous."
"Great!" Dean exclaimed as he rose from his chair to confront the angel. "You finally decide to stop acting like the world's biggest dick and now you're completely useless. Friggin perfect."
"Dean, I am sorry," Cas said sincerely.
"You brought this down on us!" Dean thundered as he pointed an accusing finger. "You came into my home and you lied to me and you used me for information. You do realize that Crowley has both Trish and Buffy now? Thanks to you. I can't believe you told him about Trish."
"I didn't. I promise you," Castiel emphasized. "I don't know how he learned of Trish. Dean, I'm sor-."
"Don't say it," Dean interrupted coldly. "Don't you dare say you're sorry, because if I hear those words come out of your mouth one more time…" he trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.
"But, I am truly sorry," Castiel pressed.
Dean slammed his fist into the angel's face with everything he had. He didn't care if he broke every bone in his hand. Cas stumbled backwards from the force of the blow and blood gushed from his broken nose. Dude really had lost his groove. Dean was going to kick the living shit out of him. He stalked forward and delivered a follow-up blow to Cas' stomach and another under his chin. His only thought was to make him feel just as helpless and miserable as he did. After a few punches, he was barely aware of what he was doing anymore and the fact that Cas didn't even try to defend himself only enraged him further.
Dean heard Bobby calling his name, but he ignored it. He had Cas on the floor and was mindlessly pounding the angel anywhere he could land a blow. He felt a hand grab him by the shoulder and without thinking, swung around to throw a punch at whoever had dared to interfere. Dean distantly registered that he'd just slugged Bobby in the jaw. He was too focused on his rage to even think about stopping though. He turned back around and continued wailing on Cas.
The next thing he knew, someone incredibly strong had grabbed a handful of his shirt collar and jerked him to his feet. It was Faith and Dean threw a punch at her too. She dodged the blow and then shoved him backwards into his brother. Sam caught him in a bear hug and pinned his arms to his sides.
"Dean," Sam said loudly and evenly. "Cool down, man. You've done enough damage."
Dean wasn't ready to cool down. He struggled fiercely against Sam's freaky octopus arms and threw his head back violently. The back of his head connected sharply with Sam's chin. The exploding pain in his skull and Sam's cursing helped to bring him back to reality. He remembered that Sam had a newly casted arm that didn't need this abuse. He stopped struggling and breathed heavily as he tried to get a handle on himself. Sam wasn't loosening his grip though. "Sam," Dean said through tightly clenched teeth. "I'm done. Get off me."
His brother slowly released his hold. He was obviously unsure if Dean was actually done. Once Dean was free, Sam made sure to step between him and Cas. Dean looked over at Cas and saw he was still lying on the floor, looking back at him through the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. The angel was completely thrashed, Bobby was rubbing at his jaw, and Sam had a busted lip. He was also definitely going to have one hell of a bruise on his chin. Dean felt his rage begin to drain away.
"I'm sorry," Dean said as he looked at Sam and Bobby. Sam just grasped him by the shoulder and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it," Bobby said dismissively. "I shoulda known better. My mom always told me not to get in the middle of a dog fight."
"Sorry Faith," Dean said as he turned to the Slayer. "I shouldn't have… I wasn't thinking."
Faith just smiled slightly and shrugged. "Not a problem, champ. You didn't even come close to touchin' me. It's all good."
Her tone was light, but Dean could see the sadness and pity in her eyes. It was the same look that Sam and Bobby were giving him. Even the bloody pulp that used to be Cas looked sympathetic. Their expressions just made Dean feel worse. He stood there a moment longer, unsure of what to do with himself, then flopped heavily into a chair and stared at his bloody knuckles. All the rage had gone out of him for the moment and he missed it. Now he just felt helpless. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sam and Bobby as they helped Cas get up and into a chair. An awkward silence now filled the room. He guessed that's what usually happened after you'd beat holy hell out of an angel.
"Dean," his brother said gently as he pulled up a chair beside him. "We need to talk… in private," he added as he inclined his head toward Cas and lowered his voice. "Faith and the rest of the Slayers had some pretty wild dreams last night and we think we might know how to fix this. You're not gonna like it though," he warned.
"That's what Chuck said," Dean remarked tiredly as he rose to go find someplace more private to talk. He didn't know what to think about Cas' motives anymore, but Sam was right. They didn't need to say anything else in front of him. He wasn't taking any more chances, not when everything was on the line. Crowley already knew way too much.
XXXXXXXXXX
A/N: I agonized over how to handle the prophecy stuff now that I'm finally getting to the end stages. It's been months since I wrote the chapter with Buffy's prophetic dream and months since Willow told her about the Triple Moon Goddess. If your memory is anything like mine, you've completely forgotten what happened yesterday. However, I didn't think I should re-hash too much of what had already been said. There will be more about this subject, but just in case you are completely confused and wondering where the hell this all came from, your amateur author would like to lamely refer you back to 'Chapter 6: Dream On' and point out Buffy's dream sequence. Also, in 'Chapter 11-Where's the Party?' – Willow explains the meaning behind the symbol of the 3 moons. Parts of Buffy's dream have already been fulfilled (hint kitten).