Through The Never - BtVS/Supernatural/Angel - 4/10
Title: Through the Never
Author: twisted_slinky
Artist: sarah_jones
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel/Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Season 6 for SPN. Post S7 for BTVS. Sam is having an out of body experience, and it seems the only person who can help him is a girl who's rather experienced in being a glowing ball of light. Sam/Dawn.
Warnings: Violence, language, innuendos, and some non-explicit sexual encounters of the het variety. Spoilers for BTVS and Angel all seasons; spoilers for SPN through season 6.
Wordcount: ~43k
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural or Angel. Written for fun, not profit.
Link to Story Masterpost: http://twisted-slinky.livejournal.com/32939.html
Link to Art Masterpost: http://sarah-jones.livejournal.com/105137.html (or see it on her website here)
Chapter 4: Objectifying Men and other Summers' Women Habits
The lamp's glow was nearly blinding. Dawn reached up, rubbing the grit out of her eyes, then adjusted the shade so that the light focused on the ancient book open on her desk, stirring up a wave of dust with every fresh crack along its spine. She huffed, and flipped the next page over, positioning her notebook in front of her to scribble down a translation.
'Page.'
Dawn acknowledged the request with a grunt and flipped the page for the second book, an English translation (because, apparently, being a soul didn't mean he could understand all languages), sitting at the other end of the desk, in front of the orb. She paused in the movement and snorted, which turned into a full-on giggle.
'Are there dirty jokes in your book? Because, if so, we're switching.'
"No, no, it's not that," Dawn waved him off, still chuckling. "I just realized. My paperweight is reading. How hilarious is that?"
'Very,' Sam answered, dryly, 'it gets funnier with every gallon of coffee you consume. I'm surprised you're not vibrating out of your seat.'
"I'm running on like, three hours of sleep, Bubble Boy," she defended, blowing a lock of hair out of her face. "And, alright, three pots of coffee-but that's entirely your fault, mister. You're the one who decided he just had to see another episode of Dr. Who. Andrew would be so proud."
'We were watching it for research purposes.'
"Oh, sure, keep telling yourself that. Just in case we get access to a TARDIS." Dawn leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms high above her head. "So, I've got class in three hours. Thank God it's a Freshman Mickey."
'Time sure does fly when you're bored out of your damn mind.'
Dawn frowned, disturbed by the wave of frustration coming off the orb. It wasn't anger, and it wasn't directed at her, but still… Dawn felt like a crappy hostess.
Sam, in his orb dwelling, had been with her for nearly two weeks now, and while she left for class, spent hours at the library, and went out to eat with her study buddies, he was stuck here, in her apartment. Even though she left him with a steady line up of running audio books and television shows, she knew there was only so much of four walls a person could take. Body or no body.
She chewed her bottom lip, considering her options. Dawn didn't like the idea of him being seen or being so close to hard concrete sidewalks and clumsy students, but if he had to help her with any more homework, he'd probably start charging her-damn if he wasn't useful when it came to her civics classes.
"You said you went to Stanford, right? How do you feel about taking a campus tour?"
'You mean, getting out of here? At this point, a tour of the grocery store would be paradise.'
Dawn beamed, excited to get away from the stack of musty texts, and bounced toward her open bedroom door, slipping out of her sweats in her haste. She kicked them inside the room, toward the hamper, and stepped back out into the main room, jeans in tow.
"Did they have the JoJo ChocoTea Bar when you went there? It's great-not that you can fully enjoy all the drink perks, but there's a group of wanna-be hippies who go there after the lunch rush and reenact scenes from the Cheech and Chong movies." She wiggled into her skinny pants. "Way funnier than it sounds, especially when the lit majors show up and pick a fight with the drama kids. Hilarious."
'Sounds like.'
There was a little strain to his voice. Dawn paused in her movements, pulling a fresh shirt over her head. Before she could question him, though, she noticed the orb had a pinkish glow to its surface.
"I'm sorry if all this Stanford talk is upsetting you."
'Uh-no, it's not that… I'm fine. It's nothing.'
She raised a brow, trying to interpret the emotion leaking out, and when it struck her why he'd sounded as if he were choking on his own words, her cheeks reddened. "Sam Winchester! You've been watching me get dressed? You have been watching me get dressed-jeeze, you could have said something, you know!"
'Should I have closed my eyes?'
"Ha, ha, very funny, jerk," she bit, but found herself fighting a grin. She'd gotten to know him scary well over the past few weeks, and entertained too many of her own fantasies concerning what he might look like in a human form, to be fully offended. "You're kind of pervy for a guy without a body."
'Oh, please, it's not like you've ever taken off everything-' His voice trailed off, embarrassed by the admission. 'Sorry. I'll try to look elsewhere next time.'
The frustration returned in a wave that felt like a slap across the face. This, she knew, wasn't caused by a hermit lifestyle. This was because she'd just reminded him that he didn't have any means of-ehem-working out of said frustration in a physical way. Dawn was this close to apologizing, because she knew she should have been the one to think before stripping, but then she felt the devil on her shoulder settling in for the show.
"No problem." She smirked and stared down at her fresh shirt. "Darn," she muttered, "looks like this one has a mustard stain on the front. Guess, I'll have to find something else-" She reached past her door, to the tee hanging out of her dresser, and then slowly lifted the one she was wearing up past her stomach. "But, don't look, now, okay?"
'How the Hell am I supposed to not… You can't be seriously. I can't believe you're teasing me.'
She twisted her torso, her abs tense, as if she were struggling to get the shirt past her bra. Then she turned slightly, so that he was stuck with a view of narrow shoulder blades and lacy white straps. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, playfully.
'Very funny, Dawn. I get it-I should have spoken up. It was a dick move. Now put your shirt on.'
"I am putting my shirt on," she said, with a pout. She dropped the offending blouse and bent forward slightly to slip the red tee over her arms, shimmying to shake the cotton down over her body, and to give him a glimpse of her full cups. The orb's color brightened, darkening to match the shade of the shirt.
"Huh." So that was what lust felt like when someone else was the one feeling it-Dawn figured she should be just as embarrassed as he was, but she couldn't help it. Power, that's what she felt. Control. It was way more entertaining than it should have been. Maybe that's why people enjoy using handcuffs so much…
But, as fun as it was, Dawn felt a tiny nudge of regret for it. It just helped cement the fact that he couldn't do anything about the peepshow because he was a lost soul. One she'd promised to help, and hadn't. Yet. She tensed. Yet was the important word.
'You're totally going to get paid back for this, Dawn Summers.'
"All done now," she announced, pretending not to hear him.
'You're evil. You know that, right? Pure evil.'
Buffy stared at the phone, a blank expression on her face, her sister's quick goodbye still ringing in her ears. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it again, frowning.
"Is something the matter?"
Buffy looked up to see Giles standing a few feet away, a cup of tea in his hand. From the worried expression on his face, he might have already asked the question twice. She wanted to brush it off, all nonchalant we've-got bigger-things-to-deal-with, but Buffy couldn't.
Thankfully, as full as the estate, one of the headquarters for the Slayer Organization, might be, the walls remained very thick. Buffy didn't want the other slayers getting a glimpse of Paranoid Big Sister Buffy.
"We've got to do something about that orb."
Giles raised a brow. "The what?" He blinked. "Oh, you mean the Orb of Thesulah that's been troubling your sister, of course. Has something happened to Dawn?"
"Not exactly." Buffy couldn't immediately put her finger on why her last two phone conversations with her sister had bothered her. Now, Dawn's words had fully sunk in. "It's just-I think she's getting attached to it. Like, stray-kitten attached."
Giles took a seat on the edge of his desk, sipping at his drink. "To the orb?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I realize that sounds insane, but she's had it for over a month now. Willow hasn't been able to find a spell that'll help with identifying the soul without, well, more than just a soul. And, Andrew told me that Dawn's been asking him to ship all sorts of texts to her."
"Your sister's obsessing," Giles concluded. "I can't say that it's particularly healthy, but the orb hasn't exhibited any negative effects yet… I can't honestly say I see a problem with your sister taking it on as a project. It's certainly keeping her busy."
Keeping her busy. Buffy shook her head. Keeping Dawn busy and out of Slayer business had been her goal the last time she'd taken her "vacation" to Cali. Dawn might have believed Buffy was simply there for a break, but the rest of the Scoobies knew the whole story. They'd gotten intel on a hit-someone had put money on her sister, and Dawn, a registered student, wasn't exactly hard to find. Buffy and the others had agreed that keeping their youngest out of harm's way was easier if she was more distanced from the Slayer Organization itself. Of course, they'd let Dawn believe the decision was entirely her own to insure that she didn't do the direct opposite.
Buffy had stayed with her just long enough to make sure they'd officially stopped whoever had been interested in her sister. But she couldn't stay forever, even if she wanted to. Duty called.
Now, though, Buffy was regretting leaving Palo Alto so soon.
"You don't get it." Buffy sighed. "She's attached. Like, she's calling the soul a 'him' and telling me how he's just as worthy of saving as any other person we've helped. And, when I ask her what she's been doing to keep busy, the conversation always circles back to that orb. It's weird, Giles."
He sat down his cup, crossing his arms over his chest, and took a moment to digest, his eyes darting around the large study. "A 'him'?" Giles shook his head, his focus returning to his slayer. "Such attachment seems to imply that she has a means of communicating with the soul inside the orb. Has Dawn said anything-?"
"No," Buffy interrupted. "But she's being extremely vague whenever I bring it up. Like she doesn't want me to know if she's figured out how to talk to it or not. I mean, if she's working with a Ouija board or something, why is she so not-talky. It's un-Dawn, and I don't like it."
The corner of Giles' mouth twitched. "Un-Dawn. Can't have that, can we?"
"I know it sounds nuts, but I don't like my little sister keeping secrets from me. Especially ones in the form of glowing unknown entities."
Giles nodded, his expression losing its mirth. "If you suspect the orb might be to blame, then the solution is very simple. Take it from her."
"Yeah, Dawnie's going to take that really well… She already complains that we don't treat her like an adult." Buffy crossed the room, plopping down beside him. "I know you guys need me right now but-"
"Say no more." Giles reached out, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "But might I make a suggestion? Xander's just finished his work with the pack of werewolves in Vancouver. Perhaps, we should give him a call. Dawn's always had a deep affection for him-heaven knows why…" Buffy slapped his thigh for that one "…Yes, well, I think he might be able to get through to her. Perhaps we should send him to her first, and by the time we arrive, she might be ready to get rid of the orb. We can take it to the coven, see if they know of anyone who might be able to send the soul on its way."
Buffy cocked her head. "So, an intervention?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Why do I have the feeling this is going to go all sorts of bad."
It didn't happen the first time she took him out, or the second. Not even the third. But, eventually, one breezy mid-morning, Sam broke down.
Dawn had been preparing for it. The whole feeling-what-he-feels thing had left her completely aware of what emotions were coming to surface every time she brought him to class with her, tucked in her bag so that the other students wouldn't a.) notice she had a crystal ball-because that makes you the most popular person in the crowd-and b.) call security because of an unidentified glowing object in the corridors. Sometimes Sam would make one of his silent comments to her during lecture, about having the class, about the best study spot in the library stacks that she hadn't managed to find yet, about the vending machine she'd somehow missed that still sold Snow Ball cakes.
So, no, he didn't pretend the university was unfamiliar, but he held back, not explaining the long moments of silence, when regret and pain and confusion would swell up in him, seep out of her bag in the form of a too-warm weight against her hip.
Then, that morning, she settled in behind a tree on the grassy yard, checked to make sure no one was watching, and pulled him out. Nested against the thick root of the tree, she heard a sound that could have been mistaken for the wind, if she didn't already know it was all in her head: Sam, his long, even sigh.
'I had lunch with Jess here once,' he said.
It was the first time he'd offered any sort of explanation.
Dawn hadn't needed it, because she already knew that visiting the school would potentially be a minefield for her bubble boy. Honestly, she was only surprised it had taken him so long bring it up again. It hadn't taken but one visit to Stanford for her to get a summary of his life here. Major, schedule, living quarters, friends, and…Jess, the steady girlfriend he'd had during his time away from his family. Jess, who had died just like his mother because a demon thought her death worked in its best interest.
"We can go somewhere else," Dawn offered.
She waited. Dawn didn't want to admit it, but she was nervous about his reaction. She didn't even want to consider why, but she also felt a nudge of jealousy toward this beautiful girl she'd never get to meet. Dawn didn't want to think too much about that because thinking about it would mean admitting to herself that Sam's love life, past or present, somehow concerned her. He was the boy without a body, a soul in need of help, at the very least a Slayer Organization "client," at the very most just a friend…right? Not exactly, she thought, frowning. What did it say about her current relationships that she'd even grown this close to him, much less that she was worried about him still being hung up on his ex?
'No,' Sam finally answered. 'Hey, Dawn? I know I might look like I'm made of glass right now, but I'm not, you know, fragile. Okay, maybe literally, yes, I am. But not because of… It was a long time ago. It doesn't hurt to talk about her anymore. Not like it used to.'
God, she really hoped he hadn't picked up on any of those earlier thoughts. "I think I know what you mean," she replied, instead. "When Mom died, I was really messed up. Thinking about her hurt. But now, I still miss her, but instead of wanting to cry about it, I sometimes find myself smiling, because I'm not so much caught up on the dead part. The memory of her makes me happy." She smiled softly, leaning back to let the bark of the tree catch her hair. "Guess the whole 'time heals' thing wasn't such a load of crap after all."
Sam's warmth rolled over her outstretched hand. It was almost as good as a touch, and she appreciated it.
'I know Jess wouldn't have blamed me… But I know it's my fault, what happened to her, even if I didn't do it. It never would have happened to her if it wasn't for me. But, I can't even convince myself that I'd rather we'd never met. It makes me selfish, I know, but I wouldn't want to trade those memories.'
"Damn it, Sam," Dawn snapped, and sat up straight, scooping up the orb. "That makes you human, not selfish. Also, while we're on the topic, Armageddon isn't your fault, going Dark Side doesn't mean you are Dark Side, and your brother isn't dead-I may have never met the guy, but the way you described him, if he was dead, he would have already have found a way to find you. Unless you were lying to me, and he's actually not as tenacious as Buffy…"
Sam chuckled. 'I wasn't lying. And you're right about Dean.' He paused, leaving it there, as if he didn't quite believe the rest. 'So, how long have you been waiting to unleash that spiel?'
"A couple weeks," Dawn admitted, and sat him back down on the grass. "You're just so darn emotionally stilted for a freaking soul!"
'Chick-flick moments weren't really embraced in my family.'
Dawn shot the orb a sharp glance but stopped herself from commenting on any part of that sentence. Instead, she mentally added "pester Sam for more info on his father" to her to-do list.
'You're late for class.'
"So, we're having a moment, and you decide to change the subject. I thought you said your brother was the one who always pulled that-"
'No, seriously. You're late.'
Dawn glimpsed her cell phone and cursed under her breath. "I hate when my crystal ball is always right."
Rule 1 of Purse Dates, don't talk about Purse Dates. Rule 2 of Purse Dates, don't talk about Purse Dates.
Both rules worked out really well. For starters, Dawn was pretty sure Sam would crack his ball if she called their about-town visits anything that reminded him that he was stuck in a purse for most of the journey. Also, Dawn was pretty sure she'd throw herself off a bridge if she verbally referred to what they did as "dates." Sure, catching a band at the local hangout, checking out the Midsummer Night's Dream rehearsals, shopping at the occult stores, taking long walks through the park… Okay, she could understand how one might misconstrue their time together as a form of dating, but that didn't mean she was going to bring it up. Not if her life depended on it.
It was almost habit now, walking along the sidewalk, silent cell phone held to her ear-because, yes, people did look at you like you were crazy if you were talking to your purse.
'Dawn, you're kind of edgy.'
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well…" She let the comment hang, considering why she felt so worked up. It wasn't actually because of her "purse date" label. No, she'd been "edgy" all evening, as they trekked to her classes, to the library, and everywhere in between, and she hadn't really considered why the hair on the back of her neck was standing up.
She absently glanced over her shoulder, as if checking the exit to the lot where she'd left her car parked. The entry to the apartment building was only a few yards away, but her step quickened, nevertheless.
Dawn knew this feeling, even if she wasn't sure when it had sunk in. That chill, like wet fingers on her spine, meant danger. Someone had been watching her.
Lately it had been hard for her to distinguish between "someone" and Sam, and she was going to blame his presence for throwing off her game. She waited until she was well into the building before she bothered to take a breath and answer Sam.
"I think someone might have been following us," she said, into the phone.
She could feel Sam's unease stirring. 'Did you see someone?'
"Just a feeling."
'You should trust those.'
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. By the time she made it up the elevator and reached her front door, she was nearly trembling, her adrenaline pumping. So, when she opened said-door and found a man, ten feet away, lounging on her couch, she should have jumped out of her skin and reached for the stake buried in her purse. Instead, she gasped aloud in relief and tossed her keys at the dozing figure.
"Butt-head!" she snapped. "Get your feet off my coffee table!"
Xander startled awake, jumping up off of the couch. "Wasn't sleeping," he muttered, before catching himself. He blinked his good eye a few times to ward of the blurriness of not-sleep, and then his face broke into a bright smile. "It's about time. Does your sister know you stay out this late on school nights?"
Dawn was across the room in an instant. She threw a playful punch at his arm before leaning in for a bear hug. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to spy on me?"
Xander chuckled. "Spy? Wow, feel the love." Nevertheless, he deepened the embrace a moment before gently pushing her back. "Well, it looks like all fingers and toes are accounted for. Guess I can haul my pirate ass back to base again and report my findings."
"Shut up, and get on your ship, Captain," Dawn snorted, knowing he wasn't headed anywhere. "Cold pizza?"
Even with months between seeing each other, their friendship picked up directly where it had off, with him picking anchovies off a slice and clicking his root beer bottle against hers in toast. And even though the scene could have easily have come from her childhood, Dawn was happy she was an adult now, which meant Xander was "her" friend, not just Buffy's, and that she wasn't just the kid who needed the goofy lug to watch over her.
"Okay, so, what are you really here for?" Dawn asked, finishing off her crust.
Xander had already run through his usual "How are your classes going? Any boys I need to have Buffy hit?" interrogation and followed it with a few amusing, and somewhat gory, tales of werewolf rehabilitation. He frowned, confused. "I need a reason to visit?" He caught her eye, his expression sheepish. "Uh, free pizza?"
Dawn raised a brow. "That the best you've got?"
He fell back into his chair, easily defeated. "If you tell Buffy I folded this quickly, I'm going to give Andrew a plane ticket to California for Christmas and tell him he's invited to stay for your entire break."
"Your secret is safe with me."
Dawn tried to keep her voice light, but she was having a hard time with the façade. She knew Buffy had been put-off by their last phone conversation about the orb, but she hadn't expected the gang to send Xander to spy on her. She glanced over to her desk, where she'd carefully sat her purse, Sam still inside. He'd been fairly quiet since Xander's arrival, only interrupting her to make sure the newcomer was safe. And human. Sam was kind of species-ist that way.
"This is about the Orb, isn't it?"
Xander sighed. "Buffy's concerned with the amount of time you've been spending on it."
Dawn felt her cheek twitch in a dangerous smirk. "So, she's fine with me doing a research project when you guys need help, but one soul isn't worth the extra effort?"
Xander shook his head. "That's not what any of us are saying. But, Dawn, that was kind of the point when you went to school. I mean, it was so that the research could be pushed off to the others, and you could get back to normal for a while. That's what you wanted, right? Some time spent as a normal girl?"
"But I'm not normal," Dawn said, her voice low.
Xander took it to mean she was upset and reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I hate to remind you, Dawn, but despite the fact that we're completely awesome and everything, you and I are the closest thing to 'normal' in our big freaky family."
Dawn smiled wistfully. "I think we had this conversation back when the world was ending."
He returned the grin. "Yeah, I never said I was original." He let his hand drop away. "I think Giles wants to get a look at your orb-soul-thing, and I'm headed back to Scotland after this. Is it okay if I take it with me?"
"Xander…" Dawn was already shaking her head, and he cut her off.
"Hey, come on now, Dawnie-you've had it for nearly two months now, and we all know you're pretty awesome at the Watcher-like super-researching. Don't you think that if you were going to find an answer here, you would have?"
'Maybe he's right, Dawn… Your life shouldn't come to a standstill because of me.'
"Shut up," Dawn hissed.
"No reason to get upset," Xander replied. "It's just a suggestion."
She groaned, letting her forehead drop into her hand for a moment. "I wasn't talking to you," she admitted. Before he could ask, she went on. "I know. I've tried the Restoration Spell in nearly every variation, so I know it's not going to work, at least not this far away from his body. I've tried basic location spells, too, and gotten zip."
"His body? Wait, were you-"
She ignored him, stood up, walked across the room, and pulled the glowing orb from her purse. "I've looked for any info on finding some sort of soul-body glue-because, hey, we know a few vampires who could use some of that, too. But I haven't tried everything yet, and I'm not giving up. And, no, Giles can't do a better job of it than me because I can do one thing he can't-"
'Umm, Dawn? Are you sure about this?'
"-I can talk to him, Xander. I can communicate with Sam."
Xander cocked his head to the side, lost. "Who the hell is Sam?"
READ CHAPTER 5