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Summary: Connor and Faith are transported to a dimension where vampires don't go poof, and no ones even heard of Sunnydale California, and instead of slayers there are hunters that fight the good fight against evil. Will they find a way home? Or stay?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Faith-Centered
Supernatural > Connor-Centered
DrusillaFR1836,0050102,6601 Jul 1115 Jan 12No

Chapter Two

AN: Update time!
Dis: I don't own SPN or BTVS

Faith’s POV

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and frowned. I looked tired, dog tired, which was the damn truth. Living the life I’ve lived, I’m surprised I didn’t have any wrinkles yet. The split lip was no big and would heal almost fully by the time I woke up. The gash on my arm was tended to, the white bandage contrasting against my tanned skin, and I slowly put on a clean, black tank top. I was too tired to brush my damp hair so I opened the bathroom door and flipped off the lights in the cheap motel room. Connor was in bed already and I pulled the covers back and slid in next to him.

It was nothing sexual. For the first time in my life I shared a bed with a male that I didn’t have sex with. Connor and I took comfort in being close. Even now he rolled in his sleep and slung an arm over my hip and I sighed against the musty smelling pillow. It’s been a month since we’ve landed in this place and we still haven’t found a damn thing that could help us getting home. We found a witch in Nevada that’d pointed her finger in the direction of Idaho. It’d literally been a dead end; the Wiccan that we’d been looking for passing years ago.

It hadn’t taken us too long to see how this world worked when it came to the supernatural. Weres still came out when the moon was full and vamps, though they didn’t dust, still came to prey on weak humans. They were weaker than our vampires and the very first nest Connor and I took out had been like playing Candyland instead of Battle Ship. The truck we now drove had belonged to one of the vamps and we made sure to take a lot of back roads in case a cop were to pull us over and find us driving a stolen vehicle.

We also managed to run into a set of hunters that had been weary of us from the start, since they’d seen us take down a shifter without really even trying. Those shifters, now THEY were the ones that knew how to party. Well the hunters had no problem dousing holy water on Connor and I thinking we’d been possessed or some shit like that and when seeing we weren’t demons ( at least not fully anyway) they’d started asking questions and we had no choice but to beat the snot out of them, take their money, then run.

Hell, money was tight now. We earned it off of the bodies of supernatural beings that we slayed, as well as taking small end jobs here and there in towns we were passing though. I managed to shark a couple guys in pool and Connor and I both have fought in the ring to earn some dough as well. Though I was having a blast, I knew we had to make it home. Would we ever make it there? I didn’t give a flying-fuck but Junior was home sick for Daddy and even I was missing the brooding vampire, Angel.

I rubbed a tired hand over my face before resting it over Connor’s arm. The next place we were heading was Lawrence, Kansas. A website had caught Connor’s attention about a psychic named Missouri Mosley and the forums had many people indicating how pleased they were of her services and how real she had seemed, and Connor perhaps thought it best to ask her for some help. Well, actually, I had never really bought into the crap before but when Connor managed to track down her number we had called it and nearly pissed our pants when she answered:

“Bout time you two called me. Heaven’s sake, Connor and Faith, I expected better from you. When will you be comin’ here?”

Well that’d been a real kick to the ass. Apparently she was a seer of some sort. Had to be, and it was our first lead since coming to this place. She gave us her address and we told her to expect us late tomorrow night, we were finishing up this little end first.

Oh and how she’d been helpful for that.

It’d been a first for us, seeing a demonic possession. We hadn’t a clue what to do and when it was all over the man that’d been possessed ended up bleeding out on the floor while the black smoke of a demon escaped out the window. The small town had been suffering many disappearances of young women, and this demon had been the one to do it. After that first, unnecessary death that still made my bones shake, we asked her if she knew anything about demons and Missouri had told us what to do. How to make a devil’s trap and what words to speak to be rid of the demon and send it back to hell and how salt would add an extra bit of flavor to the fun. We had asked her how the hell she knew all of this and she told us she’d inform us on everything once we arrived.


I almost jumped. I had thought he’d been asleep.


“We’re close. I feel it.”


I turned on my side to look at him. I’d been the one to take the demon down tonight so I’d gotten most of the hurt while he got to stand in the corner and speak Latin. I had teased him that I needed to make sure his baby face didn’t get smashed in and that’d earned a dirty glare.

“She’s…something. Maybe she can lead us in the right direction,” I said.

“She IS the right direction. She said she’d been expecting us.”

“If she is such a damn good seer or whatever, why isn’t her ass down here? Why not find US since she knew we were here?”

“She knew we had to do this first?” he asked.

“Got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I muttered, closing my eyes.

“Yeah, not so much,” he admitted.

“Night Connor.”

“Goodnight, Faith.”

Dean’s POV

‘Smoke on the Water’ blared in the dark motel room and I blindly reached for my phone, keeping my eyes closed. It was one of the rare nights when I wasn’t plagued with dreams of being trapped in hell and whoever was calling was interrupting it. Grasping the cellphone I hit talk, with my eyes still closed, and held the phone up to my ear.

“What?” I barked into the phone.

“Excuse me?” The familiar voice had me sitting up in bed straight, eyes wide. “Don’t take that tone with me, boy!”

“Missouri?” I asked, voice filled slightly with fear. Hell there were few things I was afraid of and right belong flying, was this woman.

“Speaking.” A pause. “Did I call at a bad time?”

“No.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the carpet. Her voice was like a splash of cold water and now I was fully alert. “No Ma’am.”

“Good. You and Sam need to make your way over to my neck of the woods.”

“What’s up?” I asked, rubbing his eyes free of the gook that’d collected while I slept.

I tensed when the door started to open and just now realized I was alone. Where the hell was Sam? I started to reach for the knife under my pillow when I realized the dark shadow in the doorway WAS Sam. He froze just like a pool boy would if the husband came home early to catch him sneaking out of a wife’s bedroom, the look of fear and guilt on his face.

Where the fuck were you?” I mouthed as Missouri spoke.

“You see I got an interesting call today…”

Couldn’t sleep,” Sam mouthed back.

Sam looked ragged, as if he’d taken a ten mile run. Before I could question him further, Sam rushed to the bathroom, once again leaving me alone. I made notice that Sam hadn’t met my stare and in fact looked a little on the guilty side. What the hell was wrong with him now?

“Oh yeah?” I asked, focusing back in Missouri. “What kind of call?”

“Two hunters, little lost, need some help,” said Missouri. “They’ve been through a lot in life. I’m thinkin’ they can help you.”

“How?” I asked, now standing. I walked up to the window and pulled back a frail curtain to stare out into the parking lot. Other than the Impala, there were three other cars: a red Thunderbird and a blue Neon were parked on the well-lit side of the lot and a minivan parked on the edge of the lot by some oak trees. The Impala hadn’t moved so either Sam walked to where he’d been, or had been picked up.

Ruby,” I thought with a sick twist in my gut. Just a while back I’d caught the two of them up to no good, with Sam using his powers, powers that Azazel had given him. I thought I’d gotten through to Sam but what if I hadn’t?

“Those seals are gunna break,” said Missouri, making me still. I wondered how she knew, if Bobby had told her or if she’d foreseen it? I used to not believe in this stuff until I met this crazy woman. “No matter how many battles you and the Lord’s angel’s fight, the seals will break, and the only thing that can prevent hell on earth is you making sure that Lucifer doesn’t rise.”

“Well that’s easy,” I said, rolling his eyes, then wincing when remembering who it was I was talking to.

“Boy I’m gunna smack you upside the head when you get here,” she threatened. “Listen and listen good, these two have been around for some of the worst you and your brother don’t even know about. Hell, no one really does in these parts. So you’re goin’ to get your ungrateful ass in that loud car of yours and get here by tomorrow, you hear?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“There now, was that so hard?” she asked before she hung up .

“Jesus,” I muttered as I tossed my phone onto the bedside table. I looked at Sam when he came out of the bathroom, dressed in a fresh undershirt and his pajama bottoms, and frowned.

“Where were you?”

“Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk,” said Sam, his face tight, as if forcing the lie out from between his teeth.


“YES, really!” snapped Sam.

“All right,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. Honestly, I didn’t have the strength to fight with him now. “Missouri called.”

“What about?” asked Sam, grateful for the change in topic.

“She thinks a couple of hunters can help us out. Insisted we check it out. I said we would.”

“Dean,” said Sam, frowning. “Is this really worth our time?”

“Hell if I know,” I said, jumping back in bed, closing my eyes. “It’s something worth checking out. Don’t argue with me on this or I’ll keep bringing up where you were tonight till you actually tell me the truth.”

“Dean,” started Sam, clearly hurt.

“Get some sleep, Sam,” I said, rolling over, showing him that I was done talking. “Early morning.”

I pretended to sleep with my back to him, eyes open, staring at the wall while Sam settled down. When I was certain Sam was asleep I rolled back onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Images flashed before my eyes, of my time in hell, and it took everything in me to not go get a drink. It was killing me, the knowledge I had, the memories of torturing innocent souls. A lone tear slid down my cheek at the memory of a young woman, begging me to have mercy, and me spitting in her face before carving her like a turkey at Thanksgiving.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, the echoes of that woman’s screams ringing in my ears until the sun rose over the horizon.


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