Summery: Dean has a lot of impressions about Dawn Summers. Too bad they are all false
Disclaimer: Characters belong to their respective owners this is merely fanfiction that is done for free
Notes: Beta reader would be awesome :)
Also I don't know when Twilight came out, I'm not a fan so that may make the time line a bit skewiff. Basically Sam left for college and it's the first few months he's away, Post season 7 BTVS and Dawn has joined Stanford.
On first glance she looks almost identical to every other young woman walking around the campus, and Dean quickly dismisses her as soon as she has passed his non threat test. Besides he's here on recon and not even a pretty face can distract him from looking out for his brother, even if Sam doesn't know he's doing it. Sam may be smart, he may be tall but Dean has always beaten Sam when it comes to sneaking.
Dean can't quite make himself believe that Dad has dumped his ass, even if it's temporary. Dean wouldn't admit, even to himself that he's kind of relieved.
Dad hasn't exactly been easy to live with since Sam skipped out on them.
Dean finds himself back at Stanford, circling the edges of the campus like a ghost. A lost soul, wondering what magic that this place has that Sam can't resist, that's worth leaving his family. He is still thinking these things when a girl walks past, all long brown hair and even longer legs. She is talking on a cell phone and throwing and catching something in the air, Dean frowns, it looks like a stake. Dean dismisses it as weird California shit until he hears what the girl is actually saying.
"I can't believe you're checking up on me," the indignant tone reminded him of Sam until the girl finishes her sentence.
"It was a small nest, like four vampire tops, no biggie."
Dean lets that sink into his brain, maybe it's just some twilight shit, she looked the kind of girl who was into that kind of crap, but her next sentence disproves him.
"Yes they are all dust, thanks to Miss Pointy," she throws the stake triumphantly in the air and catches it carelessly. The way most girls would throw a ball. She mock frowns as the caller makes some remark.
"I can call her Miss Pointy if you named yours Mr. Pointy...God are we really arguing over this?" Laughter, the easy, cleansing kind. He recognizes it, it's the same thing he did with Sammy when he got in a fight with dad, focus on the dumb, make with the laughter; not the tears.
The conversation dissolves into girl talk, and Dean stops paying attention. The girl is a little further along and Dean can get a good look at her, she's pretty in the standard way, and he grins. Maybe he can have fun on this trip after all.
Dean opens the trunk of his car with a flourish expecting Dawn's open mouthed wonder at the arsenal spread out before her, even a little freaked out. Instead she bends at the waist and traces her fingers over the pieces, her expression interested but not exactly blown away. She picks up a large hunting knife, examines the sharpness in the spotlight overhead, she doesn't look scared, she flips her wrist expertly, cutting a circle in the air then settles it back into it's place.
Dean watches her catalog the weapons, carefully, deliberately as if she were looking at clothes or jewelery in a shop, the only time her expression wavers is when she gets to the guns, her face hardens and she deliberately looks away from them. Finally she settles on a slightly smaller knife, hefts it and smiles.
"I like this one."
"Dawn for fuck sake kill it!" Dean yells, as he is pinned down, the animal spirit, at the moment in wolf form standing on his chest, jaw wide, teeth glistening in the dark. Dean knows he'll be getting intimate knowledge of them if Dawn doesn't hurry the fuck up and shoots the thing. He looks to his left and Dawn is striding towards them, gun in hand. She pauses then expertly shoots.
The animal lists to the side and Dean can breathe. He sits up, ready to cuss her out on her sudden, inexplicable freezing act when he sees her shaking in the darkness, her wide, blue eyes full of horror and fear and heartache. She takes shallow breathes as if she has been running, although all she had to do was pick up the gun on the front seat. She suddenly realized what she was holding and threw it as far away as possible a yell of pure hatred coming from her small mouth.
He slowly gets to his feet and hugs her, something he hasn't allowed himself to do. Dawn had very strict ground rules when she started traveling with him, but this time she allows him to pull her to him, sobbing. He wraps his hand around the base of her skull, wrapping her hair around his hand to anchor her to him.
"I don't like guns," she sobs into his chest.
Dean had thought he had finished learning when he left High School but apparently Dawn had other ideas. Stuck in a small hotel room in a storm, Dawn decided to teach him a few ancient languages. He didn't usually like learning, he was used to leaving it to Sam, but he realized he actually had a knack for some of them.
It's actually kind of fun, especially as some Demon words are apt descriptors of some of the locals. He and Dawn spend a lot of time playing pool and making fun of the locals in bars in Ancient Sumerian and Greek knowing that no one can understand them. It's their inside joke. It's their thing, and Dean finds he doesn't want to share it with anyone else. Even Sam.
Dean is halfway through when a sliver of light hits his eye line. He scrunches his eyes shut at the sudden intrusion.
"Oops, Sorry." Dawn stage whispers, her hand is plastered over her eyes as she enters the room by touch, "I, uh, forgot my book."
The girl underneath Dean giggles slightly as Dawn scrambles around for another second and then scoops up the book she is looking for and works her way back to the door.
"It's nice to meet you," the girl says laughingly, Dawn pokes her head through the door, careful to keep her eye line up.
"You didn't tell me you had a sister," the girl says reprovingly to Dean.
"I don't," Dean growls.