Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Supernatural. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Supernatural and related characters belong to Kripke.
Warnings: Spoilers for SPN Season 6
A/N: This is set after “Keys to Heaven,” which was a NonShip Dawn/Castiel story. However, I don’t think you’d really have to read that one to get what’s going on here. This is set post Season 7 for Buffy, comics disregarded save for a few ideas here and there. And this is set directly after the end of Supernatural Season 6. I think this series will have another follow up, kind of like a direct part II to this one… but it probably won’t rear its head until sometime in September. Oh, and the ending of this is a shoutout to TwistedSlinky—writing buddy and total BFF. Hope you like it!
Buffy wasn’t sure how exactly it had happened. She had been in the middle of helping Willow with a spell, something to help them track down a nest of demons. Her own personal Witchy Woman had said that the spell was simple. They’d sit around a bunch of candles, chant, and then they’d just have a sense of knowing toward the location.
Buffy was positive
Will hadn’t mentioned flashy white light or hard, ouchy cement. But all of the sudden, the Chosen One felt a sucking sensation at her body—and not a nice one—and when she had tried to open her eyes to see just what the hell it was, she was instantly shock-blinded into closing them again. The next think she knew, she was groaning, pushing herself up off of cold cement in the middle of some random building that looked like a vague mix of surgical—what with the tables and tools—and satanic—what with the bloody symbol on the white tile wall.
“That was… unexpected,” a voice that Buffy was certain she’d heard before said from someplace over her head.
Nice to know that the four people in the room seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to be wherever she was. She blinked at the three gathered to her left—two rather good-looking men and a flannel-wearing man whom Buffy was sure supported the right to bear arms.
“I know you,” the gravelly voice said again as Buffy turned to find its source.
“Son of a bitch,” Buffy said, leaping to her feet.
The angel—Castiel, if she remembered correctly—that had kidnapped Dawn over almost a year ago. Buffy shook her head, about to go into full kick-ass when one of the guys—the oddly tall one—reached out, pulling her back.
“I don’t know how you got here, but you don’t
need to do that, lady,” the other man said, his eyes shooting back to the angel.
“The new God, Cas?” he said, forcing a laugh that Buffy could tell he didn’t mean into his words. “I mean… do you really
want that job? The benefits have gotta suck.”
The angel flashed the man, who had sidled just a bit closer, a grin.
“You’re only putting off the inevitable, Dean. Confess your love and fealty to me. Or I shall smite you.”
“And to think Dawnie tried to make a case for you!” Buffy said, pulling out of the tall man’s grasp.
Castiel’s eyes fell to the slayer’s, and he shook his head. “How did you come here, Buffy?”
“Buffy?” the three men around her said.
She rolled her eyes.
“Spell work gone wrong, I think,” she said, crossing her arms. “You know, I have a feeling I’m not in Kansas anymore.”
Dean snickered, despite himself. His brother—just judging by the look—shook his head once, sharply.
“Sam’s right,” Castiel said, and Buffy figured he must have meant the tall one who had pulled her back. “This is a very serious situation. I cannot afford insurgents.”
“I think I might be missing some crucial plot points to this story… but what the hell gives you the right to call yourself God? I mean, what you were about to do to Dawnie was pushing it.”
Sam, Dean, the man Buffy had yet to learn the name of, exchanged a glance.
“How do you know this girl, Cas?” Dean asked.
Castiel ignored him.
“Dawn’s death would have been in vain, Buffy. I can admit that now. And I must confess that I often thought of taking the Key to open purgatory, but I was weak. I did not want to harm one innocent girl, just because she wasn’t from this dimension.”
,” Dean said, holding up his hands and stepping forward.
Apparently, this was the plot point he
“Am I hearing this right, Cas? Did you hop dimensions just to kill a little girl
“She’s not so little, but yeah, that’s the gist,” Buffy said.
“When the hell was this?” Flannel-Man said.
“When the apocalypse was upon us, and we had yet to access Joshua. When I still believed there was
a God to be found.”
The men exchanged a look, and Buffy shook her head.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve had about enough. You better hope that trenchcoat acts like a pain shield, Cas
This wasn’t her most winning moment. She charged forward. And Castiel blocked each one of her hits. They were a flurry of arms and legs until, finally, he threw her—literally—into Dean and Sam. The three of them crumpled to the floor, and Castiel shook his head, a heavy sigh parting his lips.
“I see now. Goodbye, Winchesters.”
He lifted his fingers and snapped. The men jumped, and Buffy’s forehead furrowed. Nothing had happened.
“Um… is your clicker broken?” Buffy said, disentangling herself and standing.
The angel snapped again. And again.
“Shouldn’t we take this opportunity to run?” Sam asked.
“Why?” Castiel gasped.
Suddenly, his body seized up. Rigid, only his bright blues found Buffy’s soft greens.
It was Castiel’s voice, but it also wasn’t. It was hard to explain how, in just that one usage of her name, Buffy was sure that it was not Castiel in control of his body. Weirder still is that Buffy would have sworn she knew exactly
who was talking to her through him.
“Get out of here, Buffy! Take the guys, and haul ass in a quick and frantic method!” Castiel-But-Not said.
“What the hell is going on?” Dean said, looking between the four gathered around him.
But Buffy stepped forward, going with her gut feeling.
“Yes, now please go. I don’t know how long I can hold him. He is an angel charged with Purgatory souls, you know. Now go. Now. Please.”
Buffy nodded, grabbing handfuls of jacket as she moved toward the staircase.
“I say we run and regroup, you boys game?”
None of them argued as they bolted up the stairs. Just before Buffy vanished through the door, she whirled, waving.