lady_yashka (lady_yashka) wrote,
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Seasons Of Wither: Chapter Three

Title: Seasons of Wither
Author(s): lady_yashka
Artist: lightthesparks
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural.
Type: Het
Word Count: 19,565
Characters/Pairings: Buffy/Michael, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, Gabriel, Zachariah, Lucifer, Willow, Dawn, Faith, Xander, and Giles
Warnings: Character death
Spoilers: Spoilers through My Bloody Valentine. Some dialogue from various episodes is also used.
Summary:The war is over, and with the help of the slayers, the world is safe once more. Now, three months later the man Buffy only knew as the archangel Michael, is waking up.
Author’s Notes:First off I'd like to thank both moragmacpherson and aj_hofacre for all their help. Any mistakes left are all mine. I'd also like to thank lightthesparks for her wonderful artwork. And finally, I'd like to thank the mods of sncross_bigbang for hosting this challenge.



Buffy sat primly in the chair next to the hospital bed, Giles standing to her right, while Dr. Gellar shone a light in Dean’s eyes, asking inane questions Buffy knew were starting to piss him off. With a lot of reluctance, Dean had given them his full name, where and when he’d been born. He’d bluntly replied ”I’m not allergic to anything,” when asked his medical history. And when Gellar dared to question him of the identity of the current President of the United States, a very terse, very sarcastic ”Sarah Palin” was the resulting answer.

“Well,” Dr. Gellar sighed, replacing his pen light. “He certainly doesn’t seem to be suffering any lingering brain damage.”

He is right here, you know,” Dean grumbled as he leaned back against his pillows. He tried to shift and winced, rubbing his thigh as his glare intensified.

Dr. Gellar shook his head. “There are a few more tests we’d like to run, but if all goes well, we’ll start you on physical therapy next week.”

“Thank you, Dr. Gellar,” Giles said, shaking his hand. The doctor nodded, and then hurried from the room. Giles proceeded to prove how predictable he was, in both word and deed, and removed his glasses from his face. “Dean…if you don’t mind…”

Dean sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “Ask.”

“How did you and Michael--”

“Come to share headspace?” Dean interrupted, his gaze blankly focused on the far wall.

“Well, yes.”

“I said yes.”

Giles exhaled noisily and put his glasses back on. “And that means?”

Dean shrugged. “Angels need permission to take a body for a ride.”

“So anyone could have done this?” Giles asked.

Dean shook his head. “No. Only certain people can. It’s got something to do with special bloodlines or some shit.”

“So Michael approached you, and you allowed him the use of your body,” Giles concluded, jotting down some notes on a small notebook he‘d retrieved from his pocket.

“Ah, no,” Dean said, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “I told the angels to go fuck themselves first.”

“But you changed your mind,” Buffy said, her hands gripped between her knees.

“Had no choice,” Dean replied, sounding just as tired as he looked. When she caught his gaze, Buffy sucked in a deep breath. His eyes held grief she’d often seen in the mirror.

“What happened?” she whispered. Not even seconds later, the look vanished and Dean’s face closed off.

That is none of your fucking business,” Dean said, voice cold. “All you need to know is that in the end, I said yes.” Buffy lowered her head, her lower jaw clenched tightly in an effort not to snap at him – a battle she was losing very quickly.

“Of course,” Giles said hastily, tapping his pen against the notebook. “So, how is it that you know about demons?”

His ire seeming to disappear, Dean shrugged and went back to staring at the far wall. “I was raised a hunter.”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, eyebrows drawn together.

“My parents were hunters,” Dean clarified. “I’ve known most of my life what’s really out there.”

“What about your parents?” Giles asked.

“No,” Dean interrupted, his voice firm.

“But--”

“I’m tired,” Dean murmured, looking towards the window. He closed his eyes soon after.

“All right,” Giles hesitantly murmured, “We’ll finish our talk later this evening.” He picked up the notebook and made his way to Dean’s hospital room door. Buffy stood and followed Giles out.

She didn’t once look back at the man who was so very different from the one she’d thought he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy avoided the hospital ward for three days after the failed interview. She was very proud of herself for the spectacular dodging, in fact, and had even managed to convince her friends that yes, actually, she was very happy that Dean was alive and well. Right now, though, she was just trying to avoid the chaos the day seemed filled with. Dean’s brother had shown up this morning with a car full of people in tow, and everyone was trying to fill the walls with as much gossip as possible. She was just reaching her favorite spot on the Council grounds, a bench near the pond that few ventured to, when she heard his laugh.

Dean’s laugh was lighter than Michael’s was, and it sounded freer and happier than the Archangel had ever managed. She inhaled sharply and held it, then shook her head and reminded herself that breathing was a good thing before finally exhaling. Then she turned and tried to sneak her way back inside.

A high-pitched yelp that could not have possibly come from her sounded in the courtyard, and she jumped. The voice wasn’t Michael’s, nor was it Dean’s, but it carried a familiar timbre they both shared. With her blinding Welcome, I’m the right arm of the Council! smile firmly in place, Buffy turned and was greeted by a hazel eyed young man, a full foot plus a couple of inches taller than her. Buffy had to crane her neck just to look at him. He also had a wide grin on his face and Buffy had to remind herself to breathe again.

“You have his smile,” Buffy whispered, and she knew from the uncomfortable look she was getting, he’d heard her.

“Hey,” he said, coming forward, holding out one giant hand. It enveloped hers and they shook, though he let go quickly. “Um, I’m Sam. I just wanted to thank you for, you know…looking after my brother. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him again.”

Buffy nodded, and tried to find her voice. “No problem. Besides, we couldn’t just let any hospital take him, what with the mystical coma and all.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, voice soft and eyes still holding sympathy despite his happiness. Buffy hated him immediately.

“Hey!” Dean’s voice called out from behind them. “Sammy! Get your ass back here. Cas brought pie!”

“I’ll just…” Sam said, gesturing behind him. “Thanks, again.” Then he turned and jogged off, his carefree voice drifting on the breeze to reach her ears. “I’m coming, jerk. And you had better not eat all of that! The doctors said for you to take it easy.”

Turning to head back inside, she ran into the last person she ever wanted to see.

“How noble of you,” Gabriel sneered. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and a smirk stretching his lips. She wished she could pummel it from his face, force him to feel everything she was. “I wonder what they would think if they knew the truth.”

“Drop it,” Buffy growled, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“Or what? You‘ll slay me?” Gabriel laughed. “Please!”

“You’ve had your fun, now leave,” Buffy snapped, her voice shaking in equal parts fury and unhappiness, along with her body. Gabriel lost his smirk, eyes narrowing as his expression hardened. Power rolled off him, reminding Buffy this was one being she could not tangle with.

“Do not ruin this for them,” Gabriel told her venomously, his words a low growl.

“Since when do you care about them? Since when do you care about anything that doesn’t benefit you directly?” Buffy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t,” Gabriel replied. Buffy had the feeling he was lying. “But I owe them. So if you ruin this, slayer or not, I will show you exactly what I am capable of.”

With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel was gone and Buffy tried to blink away the stinging sensation in her eyes. Swallowing, she left, heading towards the lot where she had parked.

She didn’t feel like working anyway.

Chapter Four
Tags: big bang, seasons of wither
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