Dean remembers a promise that he made to Buffy and he'd do anything, and everything, to fulfill it. Even if it broke his heart.Disclaimer:
Not mine. Buffy and Dean go to their creators. And this really wasn't an idea of mine, it came from the video done by a friend of mine. You can find it here: http://youtube.com/watch?v=YgJVSGPNmVg Author's Note:
Takes place Post-Chosen and AU before Dean makes the deal with the Crossroads demon. He did not make a deal, period.
~*~*~*~*~I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
He stared into the flame, refusing to let any tears fall. If he let tears fall, it would admit that she was gone and in his mind, she wasn’t gone. Buffy could never be gone. This is just how she wanted her body to be disposed of, that way she could never come back. That’s what she had asked him to do. It was like she knew she was going to die when she came to talk to him that night.
Sam stood next to him, like any good brother would. But all Dean could think about was her. It wasn’t fair. And Sam wasn’t helping the issue. He hadn’t left him alone since the night it happened. “Dean, I don’t understand what is going on. Honestly man,” Sam paused, “The love of your life just died and you’re acting like nothing happened!”
“What do you want me to say?” Dean retorted.
“Say something!” Sam demanded. “I know you Dean, and I know how you tend to keep things inside of you but I can’t let that happen. Not this time. I know what you’re going through.”
Dean just shook his head as he walked away, trying to find another part for the Impala.
God, he could remember it happening like it had just been yesterday. There he’d been, sitting in the local bar in Cleveland, just talking away to Robin as if nothing was going on. He’d actually been talking to him about Buffy. But that hadn’t mattered, because the second she walked in, that’s all he could focus on.
She’d come, sat next to him and run her fingers along his shoulders. It was her way of making sure he was okay. They were in the middle of research. Trying to figure out why this demon thing was going after Buffy, after all the potentials. Of course, Buffy had tried to push him off, telling him that she was the slayer and that she could handle it but he wouldn’t listen.
He had walked away from her earlier that week, and ignored her request that he stay out of it. Instead, he made sure Sam was doing the research that needed to be done. And Sam being Sam was getting to the bottom of things. If only he had known that Buffy had been making plans of her own, deciding how to fight this big baddie.
Dean continued to stare into the flames, remembering Sam continuing to question him. “You just don’t get it, Dean. I’m not talking about everyone else dealing with it,” Sam said as they walked down the street. “Why won’t you even talk about it?”
“You want me to talk about how we’re going to find the bones of this ghost and burn it?” Dean asked a confused look on his face.
“No. That’s not what this is about Dean, I don’t care how you deal with this but you have to deal with it man.” Sam said, concerned. But Dean didn’t say anything, he just shook his head, “Dean, I lost Jess,” he sighed, “Listen I’m your brother, alright? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Dude, I’m okay. I’m okay! Okay?” He interrupted, “I swear the next person who asks me if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches.”
Why had she asked him to do what she had? He didn’t understand it. But she had told him what to do, easy and simple. A small smile came over his face as he remembered how they met.He had walked into the bar, noticing how dead and empty it was.
That was truly a shame, because now how was he supposed to get a nice cold one? As he stepped up to the counter, he looked around a moment and then felt the tip of the shotgun press into his back. Mouthing to himself, Dean sighed as he quickly turned and managed to pull the gun away from…
…a tiny blonde.
Before he could get his thoughts together and manage to say hi, the blonde punched him in the face, causing Dean to let go of the gun and check his face. She had punched him!
“Tell me who you are.” She demanded.
“You’re not gonna hit me again, are ya?”
“No, not unless you deserve it,” Buffy replied.
That’s all it had taken. All Dean had ever wanted was to find his equal and he had found it in Buffy Summers. From that point on they had been inseparable, minus all the fights. But after every fight was a good make out session. Closing his eyes, he remembered what it was like to kiss her, and hold her in his arms, pressing her against him. They had great times together…and then she decided to pull the rug out from underneath him. “This is different,” she said, shaking her head as she tried not to make eye contact, “Do you think that I actually want to push you away? That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do, but you don’t seem to understand why I’m doing it. Why I have to do this.”
When all Dean could do was look down, Sam tried to say something but Buffy cut him off with a quick look.
“Because I can’t risk you,” she said softly.
And Sam had been wrong. Dean had dealt with it. He’d just had to deal with it in his own way…Holding the crowbar in his hand, Dean could feel the tears coming up and assaulting his eyes. All he could hear was her voice, all he could see was her face and dammit, that was the last thing he needed. Before he knew it, he was swinging the crowbar back and slamming into the window, hearing it shatter.
Damn it felt good.
He didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want to think of her walking away from him that night after they fought and he refused to let her go alone.
He slammed it against the trunk.
He couldn’t breathe as he remembered running down that hallway. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear the fighting, hear as someone’s body was thrown to the other side, hitting a pillar. He could hear as the bastard that killed her yelled at her.
“You think you can beat me? Just kill me like that?” Caleb demanded.
Dean slammed the crowbar harder, hearing the crunching of metal.
He knew that she had fought. But Caleb had gotten the better of her that night.
Slam. Crack. Slam. Crack.
Her body still held the evidence of the brutality she had gone through.
Crack. Slam. Crack. Slam.
And she died, lying there…alone and cold and he hadn’t been there to hold her, to say goodbye. To tell her he loved her.
Dean’s body had given up destroying the car, given into exhaustion. The tears came, and the tears fell, and Dean could feel his heart breaking.
“Take care of my family,” Dean heard her voice say as he stared into the fire, “Love them like your own and make sure that nothing bad ever happens to them.” A tear fell down his cheek.
“And burn my body, so I can’t come back.”
That had been her final request.
And Dean would do everything he could, everything in his power to make sure that he followed through.
The love of his life.
And to him, she would never be gone but there would be nothing in this world that could warm his heart like she had, making him alone. I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along