The Lightning Strike Chapter 4
Emotionally exhausted, Buffy fell asleep early. It seemed like mere minutes, but it was well after midnight when she awoke to pounding on her door.
"Hello?" Buffy yawned as she opened the door. Standing before her were a deputy and Dean, a Dean who was more leaning than standing. She groaned to herself. "What do you want?"
"Tol' ya. She don' like me. Shoun'ta come here." Dean tried to walk away
The deputy grabbed Dean's arm and faced Buffy. "Becky, he's wasted. Wanted to drive like this, too. Don't make me put him in the drunk tank. I know you guys are fighting, but..."
"I'm not fighting," Dean said with way too much emphasis. "She hates me. I like her jus' fine. Don't make me stay here; it'll be awk [hic] ward."
Buffy shook her head. "Fine," she sighed wearily "Bring him in."
"Thanks, Becky. Sheriff wouldn't be happy to find Dean in the holding cell in the morning." He plopped Dean onto the bed. "Tell him his car's at the Kraken."
Buffy's brows shot up. "The Kraken? What was he doing there?"
"Drinking enough to think he could take on a couple of the bikers that frequent the place." Buffy's eyes widened in shock. "Don't worry. From what I understand he started the fight, but wasn't actually in it." The sound of Dean's groan drew their attention. "Wouldn't want to be him in the morning. He's gonna be one sick puppy." Dan looked at her. "Don't be too mad at him. He feels real bad about whatever y'all are fighting about. It's all he talked about on the way over here."
At the sound of the door closing, Dean peeked at her and asked, "Is he gone?"
"Yeah."
"'kay," he pushed himself up, "I'll go sleep in m' car."
"Dean, just go to sleep. Your precious car can wait 'til morning."
He turned to look at her and needed a moment for his eyes to focus. "Look, I know you totally hate me, but I'm really sorry."
Buffy shook her head and began to pick up the used tissues that were on the floor by her bed. She wiped her eyes again. Going to the small kitchenette, she filled a glass of water and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. She returned to Dean and handed him the glass and the bottle. "Here."
He looked up at her and noticed her red rimmed eyes. "You were crying."
"Dean, just take the aspirin, okay? You're going to need it."
He shook his head. "No. Don't go bein' nice to me. How'm I not supposed to like you if you're nice t' me? I made you cry."
She impatiently shook the bottle of pills until he took them from her. After he swallowed a couple, Buffy continued, "You said I'm hard to live with, remember?"
Dean snorted and handed the glass back to her. "Yeah you are." He lay back on the bed as she walked away. "I mean, have you seen you? You're fuckin' hot. Make me wanna -" he mumbled something she couldn't quite make out, but Buffy froze in her tracks before slowly turning to face him. "How'm I supposed to not want that?" he asked as he sloppily gestured in her direction.
She moved closer to be sure she heard him correctly. "What?"
"Ne'er mind," he muttered and pushed himself further onto the bed to sit up. "It's not like I woulda done anythin' anyway."
Sitting on her bed opposite him, Buffy stared at Dean for a minute. "Dean, I thought you said you couldn't stand to be around me."
"No. No, no, no no. Sometimes, maybe. See, cuz I like you, you don't like me like I like you. I like you like you. But you, you hate me hate me." Dean swayed a bit in his seat as he attempted to think over what he had said. "No. Wait, yeah, that's right." He pointed to himself. "Like you." He pointed at Buffy. "Hate me." He closed his eyes and lay back down.
"You're drunk," Buffy said dismissively.
"Pfft. So? Still true. Duddn't change a thing."
Buffy couldn't understand how Dean had concluded any of what he was saying. "Why do you think I hate you?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know, ya kicked me out. Cuz I like you when I'm not s'posed to. I'm only s'posed to watch out for you 'n stuff. Not try to get with you."
Buffy tried to wrap her mind around his confession. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Dean exaggerated. He lay there quietly for a time, making Buffy think he had fallen asleep.
Suddenly, he sat up again holding onto the small bedside table for balance, and when he spoke his voice was tinged with anger. "Why the hell are you so mad at me, anyway? Just cuz you find out I like you doesn't mean I'm a bad person. I didn't do anything. I mean, yeah I flirted with you once in a while. So? Okay," he admitted, "maybe I flirted 'lot. But I di'n't do anything that bad. I didn't grope you or try to see you naked or anything."
Buffy just stared at him unable to answer. Eventually he laid back down. "And it wasn't easy, ya know. You should see your ass in those little pink shorts. You fuckin' kill me. Make me wanna jus' - mmm." He covered his eyes with his hand. "But, did I moles' you? No. 'M a fuckin' saint. Take enough cold showers to get hyp hypo - whate'er it is where a guy freezes to death."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Buffy feeling overwhelmed; Dean feeling sick, not because he drank too much, but because he just remembered that she had been crying. He rolled to look at her. "Oh God, Becky?" His voice was meek but she met his eyes. "I'm sorry. Don' cry anymore, 'kay? I promise I'll leave in the mornin' and you'll never hafta see me again. An' I won't just leave the Bluebird, this time. I'll leave town. Promise." He collapsed onto the pillow, mumbling more apologies.
Buffy sighed in frustration. What were the chances he'd remember any of this in the morning?
Suddenly, he was standing up again, swaying, but standing, and digging in his pocket. "Here! I got this for you." He withdrew a large wad of cash and put it in her hand. "I didn' want you to worry 'bout payin' for th' room or anything."
Buffy looked down at the money and then back at Dean. "Oh, Dean, what did you do?" she asked in a voice full of concern.
"Shh, jus' don' cry anymore, 'kay?"
Buffy nodded at him though she could feel tears wanting to form. He smiled drunkenly at her before laying back in his bed. It was then that Buffy noticed a red mark on his jaw. She sat next to him on his bed and gingerly touched the spot. "Dean, what happened? Did you get hurt in the fight?"
"Nah." He took her hand off his cheek, but he kept her hand in his as he said, "Nobody could catch me." Staring up at her, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry, Becky. I shouldn'tuv kissed you last night. But you, you jus'," he stopped and stared at her for a long time, like he wanted to say more but couldn't. "Sorry." He rolled on his side to face away from her.
"Dean," Buffy said in a near whisper, "I don't hate you."
"It's okay, Becky, you should. Imma scumbag."
"No, you're not."
"Don't. Don't be nice again. I can't take it. 'm sorry."
Dean awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and a deep pang of regret overshadowing his hangover. His coffee craving was warring with his desire to avoid all interpersonal interaction. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes. He found a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.
He sat up and took a long drink after downing a couple aspirin. He saw Buffy sitting at the small table across the room watching television with the sound turned down. Part of him wished that meant he could escape without her noticing him, but he knew that was impossible.
The moment he stirred, Buffy got up and poured him a cup of coffee. When she handed it to him she asked, "Are you hungry? Can I get you something?"
Dean barely glanced at her as he accepted the steaming cup. "No. I'll get something on the road."
"So you're still leaving?"
"Yeah. I, uh," he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry, Becky. I'm sorry I made you mad, I'm sorry the deputy brought me back here. I'm sorry about everything." He made his way to the bathroom and did the quickest clean-up he could.
When he re-entered the room, Buffy was nervously pacing as she waited for him. "Dean, wait, about yesterday. I'm sorry..."
"Don't be. I'm an ass," Dean said with a small smile.
"Wait, just tell me what I did. Why did you say I was hard to live with? What did I do?" Buffy's voice grew quieter as she spoke.
"Nothing," Dean took a deep breath and blew it out. "Becky, I just can't do this anymore. I gotta go catch up with my dad and see if he needs my help."
Buffy nodded and gave him a small smile before looking away.
He didn't want to tell her how he felt, but he couldn't stand her looking so depressed because of something he did. "Becky, the thing is, you're smart, you're funny, you're fun to be around, and you're not exactly unattractive, you know? You're even cute in those stupid cow pajamas. I've been hanging out because being with you is more fun than working with my dad"
That drew a smile and a tiny laugh from Buffy and Dean smiled. He went to the desk and scribbled his name and number on the motel stationary. "Here, call me when the lines are working again and let me know about your family."
"No one is looking for me."
Dean smirked and took her hand. "Just 'cause the sheriff hasn't found them yet, doesn't mean they're not there." Buffy made to protest again, but Dean stopped her by continuing. "And with that family - is some guy, some damn, lucky guy, maybe even a husband."
"No," Buffy said softly. "You don't know that." She looked away as she fought tears.
Dean forced a smile. "Becky, they are probably going crazy worrying about you. I know I would." He touched her cheek to get her to look at him.
"Then stay," she begged again.
"I can't." Dean's breath caught in his chest and he felt a pain he didn't recognize. I'd end up hating myself when your real life shows up, he thought. He tried to give her a smile. "When the phone lines are working again, call me, okay? Take care of yourself, Becky," he whispered into the kiss he placed on her temple.
Buffy moved in front of him, blocking his exit. Before he could stop her, Buffy stood on her toes and kissed him. Wrapping her arms around Dean's neck, she attempted to deepen the kiss, until Dean responded.
Finally, they were doing what they both had wanted for so long. Dean threaded a hand through Buffy's hair, cradling her head. Buffy's heart was speeding at a dizzying rate. Her insides were stirring with the feelings of finally touching Dean, finally kissing him. Buffy broke away to look him in the eye but the moment she did, she felt the need to kiss him again. Kissing Dean was better than she had hoped it would be.
Dean's heart was hammering so hard that he thought she must feel it. He felt overwhelmed, he was so happy to be kissing her and holding her. The way Buffy's body fit up against his was driving Dean crazy with want.
As the kiss slowly broke, Buffy continued to place small soft kisses on Dean's neck and jaw, until she was flat on her feet and Dean's hand slid from her hair to cup her cheek. He bent his head to rest it on hers. "Becky," Dean whispered, more breath than word.
Suddenly, Dean snapped out of his haze and backed away. That tiny bit of happiness stung so sharply. "Sorry, I shouldn't have -"
"Dean, no. Please stay, I don't want you to go," Buffy pleaded.
"Beck, I can't. Look, if I do I'm just gonna," he paused. Closing his eyes, Dean took a breath, found some strength, and opened them again. "My dad needs me and you need to concentrate on getting back your life." He gave her a small smile, "Call me when you know who you are, okay?"
Buffy allowed herself to feel miserable for ten minutes. Then a calm determination came over her. She had no one else rely on, she was going to have to get her life back by herself. Desperate for answers, she decided when she saw Dr. Sgriccia that day, she'd ask to get hypnotized.
#*#*#*#
Dean drove a couple hours before his phone started to chirp with messages. The first chance he could, he pulled over to make contact with the 'outside world'. The first three messages were from his father. Each sounded more annoyed than the last, but at least Dean knew where to find the man. Dean grinned at the message left by his brother. He checked the number and dialed it immediately.
The call went straight to voice mail. However, before Dean could leave a message, his phone died. He groaned in frustration. "Moron, I can't believe I forgot to keep it charged."
He climbed back into his car and headed to the town where John was supposed to be. Maybe it wasn't too late, and Dean could still help with his case.
#*#*#*#
At the hospital, Buffy marched to the maternity ward in search of the book of baby names. She was going to read every single entry and find her name if it was the last thing she did. Then, she would go to Dr. Sgriccia and let the shrink hypnotize her.
With nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, Buffy sat in the doctor's waiting room copying possible names from the book. She'd say them to herself, but nothing seemed to hit the right chord. Every once in a while, Buffy could feel the eyes of the receptionist on her, but she didn't let it stop her. When it was finally time for her appointment, Buffy had a list of names. "Here," she said, handing the list to Dr. Sgriccia. "My name is somewhere on there."
The doctor skimmed the extensive list. "Alright, Amy, sit down. Let's get to work."
Buffy wrinkled her nose when she sat, and shook her head. "Not it."
Dr. Sgriccia scratched the name from the list. "Did you want to tell me about your dreams again, Annie?" he asked with a welcoming smile.
Buffy paused before mumbling, "No, not Annie. Ann?" She shook her head in thought. "That's not it," she said finally, "but it's very familiar. Like I have been called Ann or that Ann is part of it."
Dr. Sgriccia watched the wheels spinning in Buffy's mind. "Like Beth Ann or Sue Ann?" the doctor suggested.
Buffy nodded again. "Yeah, but those aren't right. Or at least they don't feel right."
"There's a lot of names with Ann as part of them. There's Le Ann, Rae Ann," he continued, but Buffy made a discouraging face. "Maybe Ann is your middle name. When I was a boy, my mother would call me by my full name whenever I was in trouble."
"Yeah, I think that's it." Buffy squinted and pulled her legs up under her. "Leave it to me to remember my middle name but nothing else."
"It'll come, Cathy Ann, don't worry."
"Well, that's not it!" Buffy said adamantly, making the doctor chuckle.
"Okay, okay, we'll keep trying." He looked over the list again. "You know, there's a saint named Elizabeth Ann. Perhaps your family named you after her."
Buffy wrinkled her nose in distaste. Elizabeth? No way. "Elizabeth doesn't feel right. It's too long. Too formal sounding"
"Well, maybe you were called by a nickname. Let's see," he thumbed to the page of the baby name book and began to read, "there's: Bess, Bessie, Beth, Betsy, Betty, Buffy, Elisa, Ella -"
"Wait."
"Ella?"
"No. Buffy."
"Buffy? Buffy Ann?" the doctor asked hopefully.
Buffy's eyes gleamed and she smiled widely. "Buffy Ann! I'm Buffy!" She squealed and bounced out of the chair to hug the doctor. "That's it! I know that's it. Oh-my-god my name is Buffy Ann - something," she said, deflating a bit.
The doctor's smile didn't fade. "We'll get there. I promise."
Buffy's hope returned. "You're right. Let's get with the hypnotizing." She made herself comfortable on the couch. "Okay, what do I have to do?"
Dr. Sgriccia leaned back in his chair. "I thought you were against hypnosis. You didn't like relinquishing control. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"I want to know who I am and where I'm from."
The doctor quietly studied her as she shifted on the couch. "You did before as well. What's different? What happened that you want to try hypnosis now, but you didn't before?"
"I know my name, or at least most of it, so now I want to know the rest," she replied without hiding her impatience.
Dr. Sgriccia didn't buy into Buffy's demand, he remained unconvinced. "Remembering your name is of major significance. Why didn't you look at the book before? Why are you suddenly so willing to try hypnosis? What changed, Becky?"
"My name's Buffy," she scowled at him. "Come on, let's get on with it."
"We got to your name without using hypnosis. What changed?"
"Nothing."
"What changed?"
The doctor's insistence made Buffy grumble in frustration. "Dean's gone."
"Gone?"
"His car's fixed and he went to work with his dad."
The doctor took a moment to reflect on her answer. "Was Dean stopping you from trying to learn your identity?"
"What? No."
"Then, why once he's gone are you working so hard?"
Uncertain, Buffy could only shrug.
"Dean wasn't holding you back?" the doctor pressed.
"No. He wasn't. He brought me here. He took me to the sheriff's office," she insisted.
"And if Dean were to walk through that door right now, what would happen? Would you still want to be hypnotized?"
"I don't know. I think so." Buffy shifted on the couch. "I guess without him, I don't want to be 'Becky'."
The doctor nodded and made another note in his file. "Why don't we talk about your dreams, again. Did you dream about that girl again? Or did you dream about 'monsters'?"
Buffy sat up and glared at the doctor. "Aren't you going to hypnotize me?"
"I think it's best if we keep doing what we've been doing, for now."
Buffy stood and walked to the door.
"Becky," Dr. Sgriccia called calmly.
"My name is Buffy," she replied, clearly showing her annoyance. "And if you're not going to help me, I'm done here."
From the doctor's office, Buffy went to see the Sheriff. "Becky, it's good to see you," the sheriff said, smiling warmly and looking passed her. "Did you bring Dean with you?"
"Dean? No, uh, he left," Buffy answered quietly. "They finally finished his car, so he left to go work a case with his dad."
"A case?"
"His dad's a detective or something."
"Hmm, explains how he was able to figure out you weren't from here. Too bad he couldn't stick around to help you find out who you are."
"I don't need the Winchester detective agency, I remembered my name," she told him with a hopeful smile.
"Winchester?" the sheriff checked Buffy's file as he asked, but then quickly switched gears. "Well, your name will make the search much easier." He ushered her into his office. After booting up his computer and linking to the FBI's website, he asked, "Well, lay it on me. What's your name?"
"Buffy."
"Buffy? Okay, Buffy what?"
"I don't know my last name," she replied, wrinkling her nose. "I know it's not much more to..."
The Sheriff raised his hand at her doubts. "If you're sure it's 'Buffy', that'll go a long way to finding out who you are and where you're from."
Buffy's smile returned. "I'm sure Buffy's my name, but that's all I've got."
"Well, let's hope it's enough." He typed some information into the Bureau's site, then sat back. "Alright. This should do the searchin' for us. Why don't you come back in the morning, and we'll see what we've got?"
Buffy grinned. "I'll be here."
Dean was still quite a few hours from John's last known location, when he stopped for the night. He didn't want to waste time and money on a motel, so he made do with the backseat of the Impala. As he shifted around to get comfortable, his eyes fell on a discarded pen with The Bluebird emblazoned on it. His thumb rubbed over the logo as he thought about the girl he left there.
He knew he'd have thought of her whether he found the pen or not. He couldn't stop thinking of her. It felt like a job unfinished, like he had watched an entire movie only to have the last reel go missing. Not knowing what would happen to 'Becky' ate away at Dean until he fell into a fitful sleep.
Again, Dean found himself driving through a severe storm. He was barely able to see the road ahead. He knew he should pullover and wait it out, but he felt compelled to keep driving. Just as a flash of lightening blinded him, Dean lost control and the Impala spun wildly off the road.
It slid down a steep embankment, then rolled several times. Searing pain coursed through Dean's leg and his shoulder. Blood trickled down his neck. He tried to move but couldn't undo his seat belt. He struggled for a few minutes before calling out for help, only to find he had no voice.
The air brakes of a passing semi-truck startled him awake. Covered in a cold sweat, it took Dean several minutes to recover from his nightmare.
After learning the FBI had no report of a missing 'Buffy', she realized she was going to have to make it on her own. She'd have to find a way to support herself. She had no way of knowing when her memory would return, or if Sheriff Brown would ever find her family, so she decided to make the best of her situation.
The money Dean left was enough to cover her stay at the Bluebird for another week, but if she wanted food, she was going to have to get a job. She had no idea what she used to do, but when Mrs. Lee told her the Owl's Nest was looking for a waitress, Buffy applied, and with the help of the Sheriff, she got the job.
Dean found his father using the same method the Winchesters had relied on for years. First motel in the directory and registered under the name Jim Rockford.
"Hey, Dad."
John looked up from the file he was reading. "Dean?" If Dean didn't know better, he'd have thought he had surprised his father. John took a deep breath and swallowed. "Wh-what are you doing here?" he asked in a voice that sounded strained.
"I thought you could use my help." Dean scanned the room. His father had clippings and maps taped to the wall. "You did leave some choice messages," he muttered under his breath.
John turned away from him. "I don't need your help."
Dean rolled his eyes at his father's stubbornness. As he walked over to the wall with the clippings he said, "Dad, I'm here, so tell me about the job. What you want me to do?"
John cleared his throat. "Maybe you didn't understand me. I don't need your help and I don't want your help."
"Dad?" Dean's voice betrayed his confusion, but when he turned to face his father, Dean found an icy glare. "Dad, come on. The Impala broke down, all right? She needed a new radiator and I practically had to rebuild the tranny. I would have called, but the town I was in was hit by a tornado and the phone lines were down." John wasn't moved by Dean's argument. "I know you're angry with me over the whole Sammy thing, and I'm sorry, but I'm here now. Let me work this job with you."
"No, Dean. Go back to wherever you came from." John made his expression stern. "That's an order."
Dean, frozen in shock, could only stare at his father. His mouth fell open but he couldn't think of anything that would change his father's mind. After a moment, he followed his father's orders, slamming the door behind him.
John stared at the door for a long time. He collapsed back into the chair and took a long drink from a bottle of Jack Daniels that was on the table. Slowly, he began to shake with sobs.
Dean sat in the Impala, too furious to drive. What the hell was Dad's problem? Dean had been 'AWOL' before and it never made his dad turn down his help. It's not like he was the one that dragged Sammy off to college. Well, if his dad wanted him to go back where he came from, he would. After all, 'Becky' was a lot more fun than John Winchester.
Dean had no memory of the drive back to Texas. Driving into the sun for hours had exhausted him. He was hungry and tired and he decided to stop before he realized where he was.
He sat in the parking lot of the Bluebird trying to work up the nerve to knock at the door. He wondered if 'Becky' was still in town or if she had finally found her family. His hand was raised to knock when little Mark Lee called out to him. "Hi, Dean. Are you looking for your girl?"
Dean turned to him. "Hey, kid. Yeah, I am. Is she still here?"
"No. She's not here now."
"Oh," Dean heaved a sigh. "Well, uh, you guys still have a room I can have?"
"No. We still only have the two. Why aren't you staying with your girl?"
Dean looked confused. "I thought she wasn't here anymore."
"She's not. She's at work."
"Work?" Dean was sure he misheard.
"Yeah, work. At the Owl's Nest."
The place was loud and crowded and the smells drifting from the kitchen had Dean's mouth watering. A woman in her thirties strolled over to him and asked, "You want a table, sweetie?"
Dean shook his head, as Buffy chose that moment to enter the room. She was shouldering a large tray filled with dinner orders. Dean stared. To him, it seemed as if the entire room was black and white and she was in Technicolor.
The woman quirked a brow and slowly smiled as she looked Dean over. "You must be Buffy's Dean."
Dean turned his head to the woman, but his eyes stayed glued to Buffy. "Hmm?"
The woman waited until Buffy was finished placing her table's orders in front of the patrons before she spoke up. "Buffy! Look who's here."
Time froze when Buffy's eyes met Dean's. Then a blinding smile broke across her face. Dean's name came out as a sigh as Buffy crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. "You're here. You came back," she breathed into his neck, her heart pounding out of her chest.
Dean instantly relaxed in her embrace. He hugged her tightly, relieved that she welcomed him back. "Miss me?"
She backed out of the hug still wearing a huge smile. "You have no idea how much." She grabbed his hand and led him to her section of the restaurant. "You hungry? Of course you're hungry. You've got to have the onion rings, they are to die for. Come on." She seated him in a booth, knowing how he liked to sit with his back to the wall and facing the door. "Take a look at the menu, if you want, but I'm getting you an order of rings. I'll be right back."
"Wait," Dean insisted, grabbing her hand and pulling her back. "So, your name is Buffy?"
She made a face, prepared for him to tease her. "Yes, I remembered it right after you left."
"And you work here?"
She shrugged. "Gotta work somewhere." She bit her lip and smiled. "I'm gonna get your onion rings. And order whatever you want, it's on me." Buffy practically skipped to the kitchen. Every last nerve ending was tingling with joy. Dean came back.
Dean watched her go and felt a lightness in his chest he didn't recognize.
#*#*#*#
Sera Brown felt her romantic side rise up in her the moment her eyes fell on Dean smiling at Buffy. "Aw, honey, look, Dean's back," she said to her husband.
The sheriff turned in his seat. "Huh, I wonder what brought him back 'round here."
"Buffy did, of course," his wife shook her head at his ignorance. "Just look at how they're smiling at each other." She watched them for a minute and sighed happily. "I knew there was something between them." Sera let a smile brighten her own face as Buffy set a large plate of onion rings before Dean.
The sheriff looked over at them and shook his head. He was going to have to find out what Dean was doing back in town.
"Hello, Dean. Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, Sheriff."
"I didn't expect to see you back in town."
"I didn't expect to be here."
The sheriff nodded toward Buffy. "She tell you she remembered her name?"
"Yeah. 'Buffy''s not that common of a name. It should make it easier to find out about her, right?"
The sheriff nodded. "Real names do make it easier, Mr. Winchester." Dean paused. The way the sheriff emphasized his name made him uneasy. "With everything that had been going on around here, it took a while to look into your past. That's quite the interesting record you have, Dean. In fact, if I had seen it sooner, I doubt I'd have been comfortable letting her stay with you."
Dean looked into the sheriff's stony expression and sighed. He wondered where the sheriff was going with this speech. Dean pushed his plate forward, clenched his jaw, but kept his eyes down. "What are you trying to say, sheriff? You want me to leave or something?"
The sheriff looked at Dean and felt like he had kicked a loyal dog; but he had a duty to protect Buffy. "Stay or go it's up to you. But if you stay, I expect you to help out."
"Help out with what?"
"Your friend, Buffy. She seems to think you're a detective or something and I don't have the manpower needed to help her and take care of the town. If you're willing, you can come to the station in the morning and I'll get you up to speed with what we've done so far."
"Are you serious?"
"Well, someone's got to help the girl find her family and if I've got you working at the station, you can't get in trouble now, can you?"
"All right, Sheriff. I'll see you in the morning."
The sheriff pushed himself up from Dean's table. "You're gonna want to save room for pie. Raelle's pecan pie is a little slice of heaven."
Dean grinned, "Yes, sir."
#*#*#*#
Buffy set two slices of pie on the table and sat across from Dean.
"The sheriff was right, this pie is awesome," Dean said after one bite. "Hey, that offer to stay with you at the Bluebird still open?"
"Depends on the tip you leave." She grinned at the look Dean gave her, then went on, "I can't believe you're back so soon. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."
"Yeah, well, my dad didn't want my help after all. He told me to 'go back where I came from'," Dean imitated in a gruff voice. "Guess he's still mad about Sammy."
"'Mad about Sammy'? Why is your dad mad about Sammy?"
"I told you my brother went off to college, right? Well, the two of them had a huge fight the night my brother left."
"Oh," Buffy nodded. "What were they fighting about?"
"Well, my dad didn't take the news of Sam choosing to go to college that well." Dean pushed aside his empty pie plate.
"Wait, you mean, your dad didn't know Sam was going to college until he left for Stanford? How could he not know?" Buffy demanded.
Dean shrugged. "Uh, we didn't tell him." Buffy's eyes widened in shock. "We knew he was going to get mad so we thought it should wait until it couldn't wait anymore."
Amazed, Buffy's mouth fell open. "You didn't tell him? He's your dad! You said it was just the three of you!"
"Yeah, but you don't know my dad. He -"
"Seriously? What if Sam and your dad did some big life changing thing behind your back? How would you feel?"
"Dad would do that kind of crap all the time. We would have to move at a moment's notice and he would-"
"He's a dad. A single parent on top of it. He doesn't have to explain himself to you. He's just supposed to take care of you." Buffy's expression softened a bit. "How did you feel when he did that to you guys? When he uprooted you like that?"
Dean sighed. Winchester family history was too complicated to explain.
"Well, imagine that both your dad and your brother did something that would really impact your family without telling you. You'd be angry, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I -"
"You'd be all "Mr. Betrayed Pants" and go around all whiny and - "
"Mr. Betray -? Whiny?"
"Yeah, and you don't think your dad has the right to be angry? The two most important people in his life, the only people in his life, make a decision this important - without him and he's supposed to be all happy and take it with a smile?"
"I, we didn't - Are you done?"
Buffy twisted her mouth in thought. "Yeah, for now."
"Okay, you're right. We didn't really give my dad a chance. Sam worked his ass off to get that scholarship. The kid only wants a chance at a normal life, you know? He thought the only way he'd get that is if he left."
"Normal life? What do you mean 'normal life'?"
Dean quirked a brow. "Either someone's been hanging with Dr. Phil too much or 'Buffy' was a therapist in her past life."
Dean took money from his wallet and set it on the table, waving off Buffy's refusal to accept it. "Enough analyzing me and my family. How did you remember your name? Did you finally let the doc hypnotize you?"
"I made a list of names from your baby-name book and had him say them. Finally, one was right," Buffy replied. "I wanted him to hypnotize me, but he wouldn't. He wanted to talk about my dreams."
"Your dreams? You still dreaming about monsters?"
Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes. Mostly, I dream about this girl, the doctor thinks is my sister, and this older guy with glasses and an accent."
Dean's brows raised in amusement. "You dream about girls and old foreign men. Interesting."
Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sure you'd like to think I only dream about you, and I hate to hurt your ego, but I dream about other people just as much."
Dean let his smile grow slowly as he leaned back in the booth. "But you do dream about me."
Buffy stared at him until she realized his interpretation of what she said. "Oh, shut up. You know what I meant."
"Yeah, that I feature prominently in your dreams." He hid his laugh behind his cup as he finished his coffee. "What time is your shift over?"
Buffy pretended to look at a watch on her bare wrist. "Now," she answered with a smile. "You wanna check out the band?"
"Are they any good?"
Still smiling, Buffy answered with a shrug. "Who cares?"
Buffy hadn't stopped smiling for an hour. She was so full of nervous excitement, she felt like an over-filled balloon. When Dean told her the sheriff had asked him to stay and help with her 'case', she thought her heart would explode with joy.
The band played mostly Southern rock and country, but Buffy and Dean didn't seem to mind. Dean had learned in high school that a guy didn't have to dance well to show a girl a good time on the dance floor. All he had to do was practically stand still and spin the girl around. If Buffy's smile and laugh were anything to go by, he knew she was having fun. But he wasn't prepared for the way her smile and laugh made him feel.
When the band took its break, Buffy took Dean's hand to lead him to the bar, but Dean stopped her. "I don't want a beer," he said, looking far too serious for Buffy.
Her smile faded a bit. "Dean?"
"I don't want a beer. I don't want to listen to the band anymore."
Dean was looking so intensely at her, Buffy was finding it difficult to think. "Wh-what do you want?"
Dean wet his lips as the fingers of his free hand whispered over her check before gently cupping her face. He leaned in for a kiss. It was just a brush of lips against lips, barely there, but it promised more.
By the time Buffy's synapses caught up to what was happening, it was over, and Dean was looking at her in a way that threatened to make her go light-headed. "We could leave," she suggested breathlessly.
#*#*#*#
Once back in room seventeen, Dean wondered how he let temptation get the best of him. He shouldn't be doing this with her. Buffy noticed Dean's sudden hesitance and guilty expression when his right thumb brushed over her left hand. She gently stroked his cheek. She whispered his name and pulled him into a kiss. She soothed him further by kissing his neck while her hands roamed down his sides to the hem of his shirt.
Buffy slipped his shirt off and kissed her way from his collarbone to the center of his well-defined chest. When her hands came to rest on his waist, Dean exhaled a near laugh. "Driving me crazy."
"That's the idea," she whispered against his skin, forcing him to bite back a moan.
Dean tugged on her tight t-shirt until he was able to undo the knot and pull it over her head. He drank in the sight of her in her lacy bra, then covered her mouth with his. As they kissed, Dean's nimble fingers undid her bra and slipped the straps down her shoulders. She moved back to toss her bra aside and Dean attacked her neck. "You have no idea how much I want you," he breathed between heated kisses.
Buffy grinned and moved a hand to the front of Dean's jeans, making him suck in a breath. "I think I might."
"You play dirty," Dean moaned as she continued rubbing her hand against his growing erection.
She smiled as she moved to suck gently on his neck. "It's not fun to play fair," she replied.
Taking the challenge, he quickly unbuttoned her shorts and began to simultaneously push them down while guiding her to the bed. With a gentle shove, she fell backwards onto the bed and looked up at Dean with a playful smile that mirrored Dean's. She propped herself up on the elbows and quirked her brow. "I hope that wasn't your best move."
Dean's grin became wolfish. "Sweetheart, when I break out my 'best move', you'll know it." He wasted no time removing the rest of their clothing.
Time slowed to a crawl. Though Buffy had been trying to hide her nerves behind her cool, playful facade, she didn't miss the heat in Dean's eyes. Now the only thing Buffy was aware of was the warmth of Dean's body above her and the tickle of his stubble on her leg. Working deliberately slowly, Dean's gentle mouth and fingers fried nearly every cell in Buffy's brain. When her panting slowed and her tight grip on the sheets relaxed, Dean looked up at her. He wiped his mouth and smiled at Buffy's glassy expression. "That's just my opening act."
Buffy's eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed back. "I will never doubt your skills again," she panted.
"You'll never have the reason," Dean retorted as he crawled next to her on the bed.
The next morning, Buffy awoke to the sound of Dean's voice. "Hey, Sam, it's me. Sorry, I forgot about the time difference. Uh, I went to see Dad but he's still being a prick. He told me to take off, so I did. So listen, I'm in Texas, call me when you get a chance, okay? Oh and get your head out of a book once in a while. Check out those California girls, they gotta be hot if David Lee Roth sings about 'em."
Dean kept his promise and went to work with Buffy in the sheriff's office. The deputy had directed Dean to a small desk fitted with a computer. "There are over 2000 people reported missing each day," the deputy told him. "Of those, about sixty percent are children. The FBI only has the reports that local authorities have turned over to them. We have a rudimentary search program, but since we don't have much information to work with, it's slow going at best," he added with a sympathetic shrug.
Dean dragged a hand over his face as if it would wipe away his frustration. His brain was swimming with pictures of blondes, but his stomach was sick. How could there be so many missing girls? Though many fit Buffy's description, he hadn't found a match. After searching the database for over three hours, he hadn't found a single missing 'Buffy'. There had to be a better way to help her. If only she could remember more; one more detail might be all they needed to help her find her way home.
Dean turned to her. "You do this every day?"
"I did," she shrugged. "It got really depressing and Mrs. Brown thought it might make it harder for me to remember my story if I looked at these every day."
He nodded sympathetically. "She's right. This is depressing. It'll be worth it, if you're in one of them though, right?" Buffy nodded. "Hey, why don't you let me do this and you go do something else?"
Buffy understood his motives, but declined with a huff. "Like what? This is my life, I should be the one doing the research."
"Okay." After another file, Dean said, "I wish Sam was here. He kicks ass at research. He'd probably know a better way to do this."
Sam listened to the two voice mails on his phone. He must have played each of them dozens of times. His thumb hovered over the option, but he just couldn't bring himself to dial the number. After one more listen, his phone rang, startling him into dropping it.
Fumbling for another ring, he finally answered, "Hello?"
"Hey, Sam, it's Bobby. How ya doin', kid?"
Sam's breath shook. "I've been better."
"Yeah, I bet," came the reply. "You know if you need anything, you can call me, okay, son? I mean it."
"Sure, thanks, Bobby." He looked around his tiny dorm room. "I kinda can't believe I'm here."
"It's a good thing, Sam. Don't forget it. You worked real hard to get there and you deserve this chance as much as anyone."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Dean would kick your ass if he heard you complaining," Bobby said with just the right amount of teasing in his voice.
Sam chuckled. "Yeah, you got that right."
Buffy and Dean spent the week together. During the day, he shuffled through missing persons reports and she waited tables at the Owl's Nest. They spent their nights wrapped around each other discovering new ways to drive the other crazy until they both arrived at blissful exhaustion.
Buffy watched Dean sleep and swallowed the urge to kiss him. He was beautiful, lying there so peacefully. She could stare at him for hours. A tiny puff of air pushed passed his lips and Buffy sighed at the tightness it caused in her chest. One thought crept into her mind, I want to keep him. They had only known each other just over a month, and Dean was the only person Buffy really knew, but she was pretty sure she was falling in love with him.
It was the only way she could explain the feeling she got when she saw him. When he had left she was miserable and empty. When he came back, she felt happy, more than happy. She felt alive in a way she hadn't when they weren't together.
That night Buffy dreamed of a good looking man. He was tall, dark and handsome and he told her he loved her. Buffy felt his arms around her and when they kissed, she felt herself swoon. She loved this man with all her heart. But in the next moment, she ran him through with a sword. She woke up with a gasp dying on her lips.
She edged away from Dean and sat up. The images replayed in her mind. A man was telling her he loved her and even though she loved him in return, she killed him. The scene was so clear, Buffy knew it wasn't just a dream - it was a memory.
Silently slipping out of bed, Buffy began to pace. That was why she left wherever she came from, she had killed a man. She watched Dean sleep for a minute before deciding she had to leave. As quietly as she could, she gathered her few clothes and other items. She emptied Dean's small pack and filled it with her things.
It was hours before dawn. Buffy could make her escape long before Dean ever woke up. She eyed his car keys, but decided against stealing his car. She would hike to the truck stop and catch a ride out of town.
Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her trembling nerves. She had to leave, she told herself. She had killed a man and she certainly didn't want to kill Dean. It was safer if she left, she decided. She took her last look at Dean and met his curious eyes.
"Where you running to Buffy?" Buffy couldn't answer. "Buffy?"
"I, I have to leave," she stammered, rushing to the door.
Dean jumped out of bed and managed to grab her arm to stop her. "What the hell is going on, Buffy? You're sneaking out in the middle of the night?"
"I remembered something."
Still a little bleary eyed, Dean repeated, "Remembered something? What did you remember?"
"I killed someone."
Master Post Chapter 5