turn to hunters } { all around me are familiar faces
[MERRY CHRISTMAS arcesso! Set in turntohunters. slayerdom are used with permission and love, everyone else is an NPC. Timelines for this are … fudgey, but think of it as lining up with S5/Glory with S4/Lilith’s death, so Sam’s death/Willow were about the same time. BUT! This is also pre-Buffy S7, which … sticks some gaps into Buffy canon, I know, but-wibbly-wobbley timey-wimey. JUST GO WITH ME ON THIS IT WILL BE WORTH IT. I’ll figure out the exact details later.]
“Pack it up. We’re heading to Sunnydale.”
Before he went to Hell, Sam might have felt something akin to excitement at that handful of words. Maybe even anticipation. Now, all he felt was confusion. There was no reason to go to Sunnydale. Buffy was alive. She was doing her Queen of the Hellmouth routine. Hunters getting in the mix was always a bad idea, especially when Buffy was doing her Queen of the Hellmouth routine. She didn’t want help, she didn’t need help, and if he showed up with a group of hunters in tow, she might be happy to see him, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be happy to see them.
So Sam asked the sensible question. “Why?”
“Because it’s a Hellmouth, dumbass. There are vamps and demons crawling all over it. There’s work to be done.”
“Yeah, sure. But there’s a Slayer,” Sam pointed out, because clearly Samuel was missing it. “She’s got it covered, believe me.”
“Right. Slayers. Biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. You do know they’re part demon, right?”
Well. That’s something he was going to keep from Samuel for a while. Sam shrugged. “Yeah, but if they die they go to Heaven.”
“I’ve dealt with my fair share of Slayers in my time. They’re sloppy, ineffective, and overrated. Now we’re going to go in there and do some real work. Are you coming or not?”
Sam considered it for a minute with a heavy sigh, before shrugging. “Sure. Why not? I haven’t been to Sunnydale in a while.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been there before?”
Sam just smirked, and loaded his stuff into the car. Wouldn’t he love to know?
***
By the time they landed in Sunnydale, it was near midnight on the day before Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a very ceremonious return to the town containing his alma mater, but it was at least quieter than he had expected. He remembered what the place had looked like shortly after he had let Lucifer out and Buffy had died, and from what he could see it looked … better. Less death and destruction, more soccer moms and toy dogs. It was nice, in a weird way. He was pretty sure that once upon a time, he appreciated it more than he did now, but that was before the Apocalypse. Before Hell. Now he just can’t bring himself to care.
Sunnydale Motel was halfway through town, and you had to drive past the cemetery to get to it. At first he didn’t say anything, just watched the buildings as they passed him by, but when they actually reached the gates, Sam sat up a little more. “Stop the car.”
“What?”
“I’ll walk from here. Want to get out and stretch my legs.”
“You want to stretch your legs in front of a cemetery on a Hellmouth.” But he did as he was asked and brought the van to a stop. “You askin’ to get eaten?”
“I’m making an attempt at diplomacy,” he said dryly, checking his gun, before slipping it into the waistband of his pants. “I’ll be fine. I’ve hunted in the cemetery before, I know the layout.”
Samuel didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and let him out of the car. “Call if you run into trouble.”
Sure. Because that’s exactly what you should do if you’re getting mobbed by vampires-pick up the phone and call your grandfather. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, however, and just slid out of the car and slammed the door, patting twice on the side. “See you at the motel.”
As he wandered into the cemetery, a lot of old memories came flooding back, just as they should, but it wasn’t as fond as it used to be. They were just memories. Things that came with experience and time, as well as being the thing that helped him remember that vampires? Tended to crawl up.
He felt a hand wrap around his ankle, and he kicked back without even blinking, catching the fang in the forehead hard enough for him to let go. He then spun around, getting ready to take the son of a bitch down, when he heard a familiar voice over his shoulder.
“Buffy! I think it’s over here.”
“Dawn?” he frowned, tipping his head to the side slightly, before slamming another punch to the vamp’s face, keeping him on his guard. By the time the footsteps stopped, Sam had the vampire in a headlock, and was looking pretty damn pleased with himself.
“Sam?”
He shook his hair out of his face before looking over at her with a grin. Damn. Dawn grew up. “Hey, squirt.” The sour expression that crossed her face made him laugh, and he nodded quickly to the stake in her hand. “Pass me that?” She did as she was asked, tossing him the stake, and he quickly caught it and shoved it into the vampire’s heart, watching as the thing dusted in front of him. After that he straightened, brushing the dust off him, before glancing over at her with a grin. “What, I don’t get a hug?”
His arms opened, and she only hesitated for a half a second before launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “We heard you were dead.”
“Dean and I like to keep that rumor floating around,” he replied casually. Upsetting Dawn wasn’t really the aim of the game. She didn’t need to know the gory details. He waited until she pulled back, before flashing her the same casual, easy smile. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I know, but … we thought you were for real dead.”
“And we had for real reasons.”
Both of them turned to face the new voice, and Sam took a breath, taking in her posture-arms crossed in front of her chest, sour expression on her face-yeah, she wasn’t exactly happy to see him. It wasn’t anger, though-more caution. And to be fair, she probably had every right to be. She actually knew the full story. He gave her a small smile, trying to ease some of the tension as best he could.
“Buffy.”
“Sam,” she sighed. “Welcome back to Sunnydale. Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Sam took a deep breath, before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “We need to talk.”
***
They took Dawn home, then made their way back to the Sunnydale Motel for the Hunter-Slayer peace treaty of 2010. Sam refused to get into the middle of it-getting between Buffy and anything was always a bad idea, but he also knew that Samuel was a stubborn old bastard, and wasn’t going to go down without a fight. It was better to let them just duke it out, and he would deal with whatever was left in the aftermath. Words were exchanged, things were said, but from what Sam could hear, no punches were thrown, so at least that was a step in the right direction.
About an hour after she went in, Buffy came out again, not looking happy, but not looking pissed either. He glanced over at her, and then tipped his head to look past her into the motel room. “Everybody still standing?”
She gave him a look. “Believe me, I was tempted.”
He laughed a bit at that, before shaking his head. “He’s tough, but he just wants to do his job.”
“That would be why I didn’t follow through.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, before tipping her head to the side again. “Walk me home?”
Sam knew she wasn’t asking because she didn’t feel comfortable walking home alone, which meant that she wanted to talk. Sam could think of much better things they could do than talk, but his self-preservation instinct was higher than his libido at the moment. He nodded and pushed to his feet, and started to walk the path that he still knew like the back of his hand. “Sure. Let’s go.”
She waited until they were a good distance away from the motel, before actually speaking. “So. Back from the dead.”
He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow as he slid his hands in his pockets. “Is this a problem from the girl who’s died twice?” She gave him a look, and he smirked, before turning his eyes back to the sidewalk again. “I’ll have you know that I’ve officially got you beat on the resurrection count. And you don’t want to know how high that number is.”
“Sam, you’re avoiding. And considering I usually do the avoid-y thing, I’m an expert at it. Start spilling. Now. Last I heard, Dean’s calling desperate to get you back because you were stuck in Lucifer’s cage, and now you’re here? Something doesn’t add up.”
He sighed heavily. He didn’t really want to have to explain this again, but apparently he was going to have to. “I did die. I said yes to Lucifer and then jumped into the cage. And then next thing I know, I’m stuck in the field where I went in, with no clue as to how I got out.”
“Any headway on that?”
He shook his head. “Whoever did it got away clean. It’s why I’m working with Samuel. He got the same deal I did.”
“Just because you two happened to revive at the same time, you decide to go into business together?”
“That and he’s my grandfather.”
“Oh.” A beat. “Guess this really does run in your family.” He nodded as she took a breath, but she started to loosen up a bit, her hand dropping down and slipping into his. The gesture didn’t really mean much to him at the time, but he didn’t pull away. That small bit of contact was nice. “How long have you been back?”
“About six months.”
“Six?” And just as suddenly as the hand was there, it was gone. “Sam, Dean called me three months ago.”
“Yeah. Because Dean doesn’t know.”
“Whoa. Wait a second.” Buffy darted out in front of them, bringing them both to a stop as she studied him carefully. “You’ve been back from the dead for six months, your brother is going out of his mind with grief, and you’re not even going to bother to tell him you’re alive.” She was watching his face, looking for something, but Sam wasn’t entirely sure what that was. “Am I missing something? Was there a memo? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the memo where you started abandoning your brother.”
Sam sighed heavily, and tried to fake the concerned puppy look as best he could. She always used to buy it before, he just hoped it had the same effect now. “He got out, Buffy. I wasn’t about to drag him back into it.” Then a beat. “Think about if Dawn had a family and a life. Would you pull her out of that just because you had a puzzle you couldn’t figure out?”
Buffy watched him carefully for a moment, before moving from in front of him and starting to walk again. The tension in his shoulders relaxed, and fell in step next to her. They mostly stayed in silence until they reached the porch of the Summers house. She took a few stairs up, before turning to face him again. This put her at eye level, and he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but he didn’t flinch or look away.
“I take it this means you don’t want me to tell Dean?”
“It’d be for the best. At least in my opinion.”
She nodded, before leaning into him a bit. Her hands caught on his shoulders, and the next thing he knew she was kissing him, soft and sweet, but that wasn’t what he noticed. What he noticed was the fact that he felt something. It sparked in the pit of his stomach and warmed it’s way through his body, and while it wasn’t exactly the same as he remembered it-there was still something missing-it was pretty damn good. She broke the kiss after a second, before whispering against his lips.
“I’m really glad you’re not in Hell, Sam.”
“Me too,” he whispered back. One hand moved to her waist, keeping her from going too far, and the next time that she kissed him, her arms slid around his neck and she melted into him. He still didn’t find what he was missing, but he was chasing that warmth, wanting to feel it because at least then he was feeling. It was almost like he was truly alive again.
After a moment, she broke the kiss, looking at him with questioning eyes. It was always in moments like this that he was reminded of the fact that Buffy was still a girl. The girl got lost in the Slayer sometimes, but the girl was still there-and right now, the girl was vulnerable. “You can stay here, if you want,” she said softly. “I’m sure Dawn would love it.” Which was really just Buffy’s way of saying that she wanted him there.
It would be taking advantage. He knew that. But right now, there wasn’t really a part of Sam that cared. “Yeah,” he nodded, letting her take his hand to lead him inside. “I’d like that.”
***
They stayed for a week. They cleaned out as many undead things as they could, Sam spent a fair amount of time with Buffy, and at the end of the week they were gone.
Sam didn’t say goodbye.
If he were being honest, he couldn’t really say that he saw the point.
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“Pack it up. We’re heading to Sunnydale.”
Before he went to Hell, Sam might have felt something akin to excitement at that handful of words. Maybe even anticipation. Now, all he felt was confusion. There was no reason to go to Sunnydale. Buffy was alive. She was doing her Queen of the Hellmouth routine. Hunters getting in the mix was always a bad idea, especially when Buffy was doing her Queen of the Hellmouth routine. She didn’t want help, she didn’t need help, and if he showed up with a group of hunters in tow, she might be happy to see him, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be happy to see them.
So Sam asked the sensible question. “Why?”
“Because it’s a Hellmouth, dumbass. There are vamps and demons crawling all over it. There’s work to be done.”
“Yeah, sure. But there’s a Slayer,” Sam pointed out, because clearly Samuel was missing it. “She’s got it covered, believe me.”
“Right. Slayers. Biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. You do know they’re part demon, right?”
Well. That’s something he was going to keep from Samuel for a while. Sam shrugged. “Yeah, but if they die they go to Heaven.”
“I’ve dealt with my fair share of Slayers in my time. They’re sloppy, ineffective, and overrated. Now we’re going to go in there and do some real work. Are you coming or not?”
Sam considered it for a minute with a heavy sigh, before shrugging. “Sure. Why not? I haven’t been to Sunnydale in a while.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been there before?”
Sam just smirked, and loaded his stuff into the car. Wouldn’t he love to know?
***
By the time they landed in Sunnydale, it was near midnight on the day before Christmas Eve. It wasn’t a very ceremonious return to the town containing his alma mater, but it was at least quieter than he had expected. He remembered what the place had looked like shortly after he had let Lucifer out and Buffy had died, and from what he could see it looked … better. Less death and destruction, more soccer moms and toy dogs. It was nice, in a weird way. He was pretty sure that once upon a time, he appreciated it more than he did now, but that was before the Apocalypse. Before Hell. Now he just can’t bring himself to care.
Sunnydale Motel was halfway through town, and you had to drive past the cemetery to get to it. At first he didn’t say anything, just watched the buildings as they passed him by, but when they actually reached the gates, Sam sat up a little more. “Stop the car.”
“What?”
“I’ll walk from here. Want to get out and stretch my legs.”
“You want to stretch your legs in front of a cemetery on a Hellmouth.” But he did as he was asked and brought the van to a stop. “You askin’ to get eaten?”
“I’m making an attempt at diplomacy,” he said dryly, checking his gun, before slipping it into the waistband of his pants. “I’ll be fine. I’ve hunted in the cemetery before, I know the layout.”
Samuel didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and let him out of the car. “Call if you run into trouble.”
Sure. Because that’s exactly what you should do if you’re getting mobbed by vampires-pick up the phone and call your grandfather. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, however, and just slid out of the car and slammed the door, patting twice on the side. “See you at the motel.”
As he wandered into the cemetery, a lot of old memories came flooding back, just as they should, but it wasn’t as fond as it used to be. They were just memories. Things that came with experience and time, as well as being the thing that helped him remember that vampires? Tended to crawl up.
He felt a hand wrap around his ankle, and he kicked back without even blinking, catching the fang in the forehead hard enough for him to let go. He then spun around, getting ready to take the son of a bitch down, when he heard a familiar voice over his shoulder.
“Buffy! I think it’s over here.”
“Dawn?” he frowned, tipping his head to the side slightly, before slamming another punch to the vamp’s face, keeping him on his guard. By the time the footsteps stopped, Sam had the vampire in a headlock, and was looking pretty damn pleased with himself.
“Sam?”
He shook his hair out of his face before looking over at her with a grin. Damn. Dawn grew up. “Hey, squirt.” The sour expression that crossed her face made him laugh, and he nodded quickly to the stake in her hand. “Pass me that?” She did as she was asked, tossing him the stake, and he quickly caught it and shoved it into the vampire’s heart, watching as the thing dusted in front of him. After that he straightened, brushing the dust off him, before glancing over at her with a grin. “What, I don’t get a hug?”
His arms opened, and she only hesitated for a half a second before launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “We heard you were dead.”
“Dean and I like to keep that rumor floating around,” he replied casually. Upsetting Dawn wasn’t really the aim of the game. She didn’t need to know the gory details. He waited until she pulled back, before flashing her the same casual, easy smile. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I know, but … we thought you were for real dead.”
“And we had for real reasons.”
Both of them turned to face the new voice, and Sam took a breath, taking in her posture-arms crossed in front of her chest, sour expression on her face-yeah, she wasn’t exactly happy to see him. It wasn’t anger, though-more caution. And to be fair, she probably had every right to be. She actually knew the full story. He gave her a small smile, trying to ease some of the tension as best he could.
“Buffy.”
“Sam,” she sighed. “Welcome back to Sunnydale. Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Sam took a deep breath, before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “We need to talk.”
***
They took Dawn home, then made their way back to the Sunnydale Motel for the Hunter-Slayer peace treaty of 2010. Sam refused to get into the middle of it-getting between Buffy and anything was always a bad idea, but he also knew that Samuel was a stubborn old bastard, and wasn’t going to go down without a fight. It was better to let them just duke it out, and he would deal with whatever was left in the aftermath. Words were exchanged, things were said, but from what Sam could hear, no punches were thrown, so at least that was a step in the right direction.
About an hour after she went in, Buffy came out again, not looking happy, but not looking pissed either. He glanced over at her, and then tipped his head to look past her into the motel room. “Everybody still standing?”
She gave him a look. “Believe me, I was tempted.”
He laughed a bit at that, before shaking his head. “He’s tough, but he just wants to do his job.”
“That would be why I didn’t follow through.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, before tipping her head to the side again. “Walk me home?”
Sam knew she wasn’t asking because she didn’t feel comfortable walking home alone, which meant that she wanted to talk. Sam could think of much better things they could do than talk, but his self-preservation instinct was higher than his libido at the moment. He nodded and pushed to his feet, and started to walk the path that he still knew like the back of his hand. “Sure. Let’s go.”
She waited until they were a good distance away from the motel, before actually speaking. “So. Back from the dead.”
He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow as he slid his hands in his pockets. “Is this a problem from the girl who’s died twice?” She gave him a look, and he smirked, before turning his eyes back to the sidewalk again. “I’ll have you know that I’ve officially got you beat on the resurrection count. And you don’t want to know how high that number is.”
“Sam, you’re avoiding. And considering I usually do the avoid-y thing, I’m an expert at it. Start spilling. Now. Last I heard, Dean’s calling desperate to get you back because you were stuck in Lucifer’s cage, and now you’re here? Something doesn’t add up.”
He sighed heavily. He didn’t really want to have to explain this again, but apparently he was going to have to. “I did die. I said yes to Lucifer and then jumped into the cage. And then next thing I know, I’m stuck in the field where I went in, with no clue as to how I got out.”
“Any headway on that?”
He shook his head. “Whoever did it got away clean. It’s why I’m working with Samuel. He got the same deal I did.”
“Just because you two happened to revive at the same time, you decide to go into business together?”
“That and he’s my grandfather.”
“Oh.” A beat. “Guess this really does run in your family.” He nodded as she took a breath, but she started to loosen up a bit, her hand dropping down and slipping into his. The gesture didn’t really mean much to him at the time, but he didn’t pull away. That small bit of contact was nice. “How long have you been back?”
“About six months.”
“Six?” And just as suddenly as the hand was there, it was gone. “Sam, Dean called me three months ago.”
“Yeah. Because Dean doesn’t know.”
“Whoa. Wait a second.” Buffy darted out in front of them, bringing them both to a stop as she studied him carefully. “You’ve been back from the dead for six months, your brother is going out of his mind with grief, and you’re not even going to bother to tell him you’re alive.” She was watching his face, looking for something, but Sam wasn’t entirely sure what that was. “Am I missing something? Was there a memo? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the memo where you started abandoning your brother.”
Sam sighed heavily, and tried to fake the concerned puppy look as best he could. She always used to buy it before, he just hoped it had the same effect now. “He got out, Buffy. I wasn’t about to drag him back into it.” Then a beat. “Think about if Dawn had a family and a life. Would you pull her out of that just because you had a puzzle you couldn’t figure out?”
Buffy watched him carefully for a moment, before moving from in front of him and starting to walk again. The tension in his shoulders relaxed, and fell in step next to her. They mostly stayed in silence until they reached the porch of the Summers house. She took a few stairs up, before turning to face him again. This put her at eye level, and he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but he didn’t flinch or look away.
“I take it this means you don’t want me to tell Dean?”
“It’d be for the best. At least in my opinion.”
She nodded, before leaning into him a bit. Her hands caught on his shoulders, and the next thing he knew she was kissing him, soft and sweet, but that wasn’t what he noticed. What he noticed was the fact that he felt something. It sparked in the pit of his stomach and warmed it’s way through his body, and while it wasn’t exactly the same as he remembered it-there was still something missing-it was pretty damn good. She broke the kiss after a second, before whispering against his lips.
“I’m really glad you’re not in Hell, Sam.”
“Me too,” he whispered back. One hand moved to her waist, keeping her from going too far, and the next time that she kissed him, her arms slid around his neck and she melted into him. He still didn’t find what he was missing, but he was chasing that warmth, wanting to feel it because at least then he was feeling. It was almost like he was truly alive again.
After a moment, she broke the kiss, looking at him with questioning eyes. It was always in moments like this that he was reminded of the fact that Buffy was still a girl. The girl got lost in the Slayer sometimes, but the girl was still there-and right now, the girl was vulnerable. “You can stay here, if you want,” she said softly. “I’m sure Dawn would love it.” Which was really just Buffy’s way of saying that she wanted him there.
It would be taking advantage. He knew that. But right now, there wasn’t really a part of Sam that cared. “Yeah,” he nodded, letting her take his hand to lead him inside. “I’d like that.”
***
They stayed for a week. They cleaned out as many undead things as they could, Sam spent a fair amount of time with Buffy, and at the end of the week they were gone.
Sam didn’t say goodbye.
If he were being honest, he couldn’t really say that he saw the point.
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