Dead At the Wheel
In My Time of DyingAuthor:
I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of playing with them.Rating:
Buffy/Dean, Sam, BobbyWarnings:
none for this chapterSpoilers:
SPN seasno 2 “IMToD” and on, BtVS post ChosenSummary:
After the crash Dean is haunting the hospital and meets up with another displaced spirit with a secret agenda. Dean thinks Buffy Summers is just a normal girl.Author’s Note:
The moment I saw the prompt for this week at Tamingthemuse at LJ this idea popped into my head and stayed with me. Its been too long since I’ve last updated this fic but I am now glad to say I can add one more chapter and the possibly more in the future. I would like to thank Dhfreak and IceBlueRose for helping keep me on this on YIM. Also, beta’d by IceBlueRose who I’ve been taking advantage of lately.
BANNER MADE BY DHFREAKChapter 5 Dead At the Wheel
Sam checked the rearview mirror again, losing count of how many times he needed to reassure himself that his brother was okay in the backseat of the van Bobby had loaned them. It was roomy but the six seats couldn’t compare to the comfort of the Impala. The Impala had spent a couple of decades as a traveling home to their famly and Dean looked out of place sprawled in the backseat.
Still, he looked more at peace then he had the past three days and that all had to do with the blonde head resting on his chest, his briother’s arm holding her securely there through the bumps and the night.
Sam had been driving for awhile now. The bus Buffy Summers had been on had gotten pretty far and it was a good twelve hour drive back to Bobby’s place where they had decided to stay while they figured things out.
His eyes stung and his hands were gripping the wheel tightly. If Bobby’s place wasn’t getting closer by the mile, he would have pulled over at one of the hotels already and gotten a couple of rooms.
He was beyond the point of being tired and it dragged at him enough that his resolve was cracking and he was remebering that his dad was gone.
The word rung hollowly in his ears and he had never thought of it before. Not with mom and he couldn’t relate it to Jessica. The dead to him had always been pissed off spirits and people left behind to grieve.
He had watched his father die, had heard the monitor flatline, had held his breath as each moment had passed wishing, praying for it to pick up again. He had expected it to, there was just no way this could happen, not now, not after everything they had lost.
His eyes drifted back to where he could see Dean’s hand clutched in the fabric of Buffy’s shirt and moved from the intimate scene to the white bandaged wrapped tightly around Buffy’s wrist and clashing with her tan skin.
He didn’t care that they didn’t know her, didn’t care that the demon had plans for her too and that she was a stranger working her way into their lives. At this moment, with his eyes starting to burn, all he cared about was she was having Dean hold on to something.
The past few days he had been scared he was losing his brother to the hollowness in his eyes and he couldn’t, he couldn’t lose anyone else, especially not the one person that had always been there for them.
Especially not the last person he had left.
Sam turned on the radio, quickly turning the volume down low and searched the stations for something that wasn’t rock or static. He finally found something and a half smile curved his lips because he knew Dean would describe it as emo sissy stuff.
If Dean still even cared. Sam wasn’t sure of that anymore. Even with Buffy there, he wasn’t sure how much of his brother was in there enough to care.
Because he just seemed too broken lately to fit in with who he used to be.
Sam tore his eyes away from where they had been drifting to the side of the road and placed them back dead center, trying to ignore the hollow pit in his stomach that kept causing him to feel like he had already lost Dean.
Maybe that was why he had been so quick to accept Buffy’s presence. He would take anything he could get to hold onto his brother.
If she wasn’t the one thing he was counting on to keep Dean with him, he would be worried about her.
Something inside him was screaming that this was just too much of a coincidence. That it shouldn’t have been possible for one of the “special” kids to arrive in the same hospital they had ended up in. He wanted to be suspicious of her, wanted to demand that Dean stop trusting her so blindly.
The same trust he had given their father for years that had never been returned.
He couldn’t though. Because a part of him trusted her too, could still see the sympathy in her eyes as she had looked at Dean, the pain that had shone brightly on her face as they had pulled her off that bus.
Something about the short California blonde girl just screamed “protect” and he couldn’t help being haunted by his inability to protect Jessica. He was also feeling stunned by the way his brother was reacting to her right in front of him. He had never seen Dean with a woman like this and sometimes it was like watching two people fall in love in slow motion.
Sam could see the way the road curved up ahead, the headlights illuminating the path he wanted to take, and he let out a small sigh of relief, turning the large vehicle easily into the space and parking behind one of Bobby’s classic cars.
The headlights passed over the darkened house and he caught the curtain move.
He smiled softly as he turned the van off and twisted the key out. “Dean.” He leaned back over the seat. “Buffy, we’re here, time to wake up.” His voice was a loud whisper and Dean grunted, opening his eyes up slowly.
He looked at Sam and then shifted his gaze to Buffy, sitting up with her cradled against him as he did. “Hey, Princess, nap time’s over.”
She opened her eyes and Sam could see the pain there as she sat up, pulling out of Dean’s arms and wincing as she jarred her wrist. She gave Dean an akward smile and commented, her voice husky with sleep, “So, we at your friends house?”
Sam couldn’t stop his eyes from softening and he gave her a small smile. “Yeah, just leave the bags in the car. We can get them in the morning.”
“Oh thank God,” Dean groaned as he pushed open the door and hopped down, stumbling a little, still sleepy. He seemed to remember what he had been riding in and he spared a glare for the van before helping Buffy, down both of them so out of it they didn’t try to hide the way Dean’s arm slipped around Buffy’s waist or the way she leaned her head on his chest.
Sam shook his head, conflicted with what was going on, and got out of the van, closing the door more gently than Dean had. He followed the pair up the steps and the door opened just as Dean and Buffy reached it, Sam coming to stand beside Dean.
Bobby stood in the doorway his face blank as he seemed to focus his eyes on Buffy suspiciously.
“I see you boys are picking up strays nowadays?”
“The Demon is after her. She and Dean met in the hospital and the Demon almost got to her.”
“And let me guess, you boys rushed in and saved the day.” Bobby still hadn’t looked away from Buffy and he seemed to be studying her closely. Her eyes were still tired but focused on him and instead of shrinking back into Dean, she was pulling herself up.
“She’s special, like Sam,” Dean bit out an edge to his voice. “Until we know what the bastard wants with them, she’s sticking with us.” His tone left no room for argument and by the fire suddenly sparking in his eyes, it was clear that it woudn’t be wise to do so.
Bobby was non-pulsed “So,” he drawled “does Miss Special have a name?”
“It’s Buffy,” she said and Sam could have sworn their new female traveling companion was channeling Dean by the steel evident in her voice. “Buffy Summers.” Her voice melted into a honey sweetness, tart in its delivery and she tilted back her head, giving Bobby a sharp smile.
The older man snorted before he grinned. “Well, all right then, I only got two beds made up so it looks like you two boys will be sharing.”
Sam shared a look with Dean but before he could say anything, Dean huffed, “Yeah, sure Bobby, see you in the morning,” and started walking down the hall towards the room they usually stayed in whenever they dropped by his place. Buffy followed silently and Sam gave Bobby a tight smile, not knowing how to tell the guy he was sorry for Dean’s behavior.
Before he could even say anything, Bobby waved him inside muttering, “That boy is only going to get worse, Sam, I can take it. I just hope you can.” He closed the door behind Sam. “Now, get some sleep. He looked like crap.”
“Thanks Bobby.” Sam knew he didn’t have to say it but he wanted to and Bobby nodded as Sam walked back to the room that Buffy and Dean were in. He pushed opened the door and shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he took in Dean and Buffy curled together again on one of the beds.
Sam toed off his shoes and tossed his jacket on the floor as he slipped into the other and let himself relax, the breath of the other two, strangely in sync, lulling him to the sleep he had craved on the darkened road.