Dream Lover

Dean woke once again and he was still there. Still hanging but he was going in and out of consciousness. He was weaker than before. Must have had more blood drained. There was no getting out of it this time. Sam wasn't around. No one he could count on could help him. Not even Buffy.

Buffy... was this even real? Maybe she was real and here... here wasn't. Just a nightmare.

Dean's head dropped forward. He couldn't hold it up any longer. He didn't want to. He lost all feeling through his body. He was cold and pale. This time, he kept his eyes closed. Maybe he would wake from this nightmare. Maybe.

Blood dripped slowly into the bag beside him. His life slowly ebbed into the small blood bag, soon to be all that was left of him.

***

Great, just great. When she wanted to stay awake, she’d had trouble and nodded off early. Now that she wanted to sleep... wanted to see Mr. Makes-me-hot-n’-heavy-in-three-secs or less, sleep escaped her.

Argh... was she gonna stare at the ceiling all night?

*

Buffy looked in the fridge, and grabbed a diet coke. The hotel stocked the fridge with wine and beer, but drinking alone was not so much fun. She reached the small cabin’s front door and walked out onto the porch, only to find someone making himself way at home on her swing, sitting there with beer in hand, his leg resting on the little table.

“Hey!” Frowning, she walked over. “Did I invite you?” Even as he started to answer, she remembered who he was and what she had to do.

Dean looked up just as Buffy came out and he gave her a soft smile, "Hey to you too." He looked back out across the little yard and to the tree line. "No, you didn't invite me but... I really had no place else to go... so..." He gave a little smile looking down at his beer as his thumb picked at the label. "I remember as a kid, my dad used to bring us to cabins like this. He would take us out there and teach us how to track or hunt. Shoot a bow and arrow..." He looked up to her, his eyes glassy with tears. "Come sit..." He patted the empty spot beside him.

“My dad didn’t bring us anywhere,” she stared at the seat, then lowered herself down, moving with the swing. “So... hey...” that’s when she realized the huskiness in his voice was from something other than ... well, he usually sounded that way right before he kissed her. She moved so she could see his face, and swallowed at the first glimpse he’d allowed her to have at something other than his carefree expression. “Look, it’s going to be okay... tell me what you need.”

Dean was still picking at his beer label, tearing it a little at a time. "It wasn't for fun, though as a kid, Sam saw it that way. I knew why we were out there." He looked at her, "I'm happy right here, with you." He leaned over, kissing her softly.

It was different this time, the kiss. Not meant to take advantage, or calculated to make her want him so bad it hurt. It was tender... and mostly, it was real. Putting her hand on his cheek, she kissed him back, unconsciously wiping away a tear that spilled over her knuckles.

Eventually, she pulled away. “Dean, let’s go to your place. Where is it... in the woods? Let’s go there, okay?”

Dean sat his beer down, shifting to face her more directly. "I’d rather stay here with you. It's nice here. And... never did it out on a swing porch before." He pulled her closer and nuzzled into her neck, slipping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him.

“It? Oh... it!” Oh God... when he invaded her space like this, it was hard to think... to say no. “We’re not ... not doing it,” she squeaked. What was the matter with him? He was acting different... like he’d given up on making her listen, and even on playing with her. He wasn’t playing anymore, he meant every word he said... he was going to stay.

Her hands against his chest, she forced some distance between them. “You know I want to say yes, you know that. Dean... Dean up here,” she snapped, seeing his gaze clinging to the swell of her breasts.

"So say yes," Dean reached out to cup one of her breast before slipping his arm back around her and pulling her close again. "We can do it as much as you like. Till it kills one of us," He gave a laugh. "I won't leave. I won't tease. Promise." He leaned in to kiss her.

Do it all night long... make up for all the times he left her needing him, left her in tangled sheets, with hormones raging... waves of need driving her to tears. God she wanted that... wanted it so... so bad. She brushed her mouth against his, pulling back... then feathering light kisses across his lips, but escaping his efforts to lock their mouths together in one of their heated exchanges.

“I want to... I really do. But...” She was breathless, her heart was beating erratically. Buffy had no idea how much longer she could resist. “Tell me why you changed your mind. Is one of us gonna die if we do this?” Call it a hunch. Call it Slayer’s instincts. Or maybe all the time she was trying not to get to know him, she was learning to know him.

Dean lowered himself into Buffy, "Does it matter?" He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek and into her hair, trailing the strands down till he slipped his arm around her to pull her over his lap.

She let him, but did her damnedest not to lose her train of thoughts. It was important... more than being hot and alone hanged in the balance this time around. “It matters,” she wiggled in his lap, trying not to want... not to go there.

Dean wrapped his arms around her more tightly. He leaned up, kissing her. It didn't matter to him. He would enjoy what time he had left here in her arms. "Hey," he smiled, "I'm finally giving you want you want. Let's enjoy this moment." He slid his hands to cup both her breast, thumbs rubbing over her nipples.

God... he was making her burn up... making every part of her respond, when she shouldn’t. “Stop, stop, stop,” she said, gripping his wrists, fighting him... fighting herself. She had to ignore the desperate look that had entered his eyes, or she’d be lost too.

Dean moved his hands behind her, locking her arms behind her as his mouth locked to hers. He curled one hand down over her butt, pressing her tight against him to let her feel how hard his cock was. "I need you, Buffy."

Holy... Her hips jerked forward in response, her entire body surged toward him. It would be so easy to just take... take what she’d been wanting. She had to stop listening to him, stop feeling him... stop thinking about what would come next. Right... she had to picture Giles, and imagine his response if he caught her like this.

One mental imaginary good lord! in a British accent did it. Scrambling off Dean’s lap, she gripped the seat of the swing and shoved it with all her strength. One second he was sitting there tempting the hell out of her resolve, the next he was on the ground looking up at her.

“You want me... you want me to take care of that for you?” she asked, looking at the clear bulge in his pants. “Then show me the woods. I mean it Dean, you want anything else from me, you’re gonna take me where you’ve been wanting me to come.”

Dean had tasted her lips. Tasted her heat and now suddenly he was tasting wood. Porch wood. How the hell did he get down here? He rolled and looked up, the swing coming back and hitting the back of his head. "Ouch," He rubbed it and looked up at her, hearing her demands.

He opened his mouth, about to protest, then closed it. He opened it again to speak but nothing came out till he got up, "Fine," He grabbed her hand and started leading her out, "But you are so gonna be jumped."
“Promises, promises...” She managed a shaky laugh. “You’ll survive the wait. I did.” Okay, maybe that was a barb, but hey, he totally deserved it.

Twenty minutes later, he’d brought her to an old dilapidated looking shack in the middle of nowhere. A ‘No Trespassing’ sign swung freely in the wind, the nails on one side of the door it was posted on having given way long ago.

“Creepy.” She took a breath, knowing she had to do this. “Okay, you stay here. I have to... I gotta come back as me, me... not... not like this.”

"Why?" Dean asked in moving closer. He reached out for her hand. "We’re here together, no one is around and..." He frowned as she was backing away.

She needed to wake up... she needed to be sure he didn’t drag her into another round of kissing. Steeling herself, she knocked his hand away. “End of the line. You’re staying, I’m going. Got it?” The wounded look in his eyes almost got her. Almost. .

"You know, I've always screwed up everything in my life. I had one job in my life and that was to protect my brother. Watch over him. I can't any more. I let my dad down. I let Sammy down... I've let everyone I ever loved down. And... I can't go on. I'm suppose to be dead. My own father gave up his soul to rot in hell so I could live. And for what? So I can let them all down? I just want to be happy for once in my life. To go out... knowing I did something good. You know. Now I can't even do that."

In that instant, his hurt was her hurt, his wounds hers... it was enough to pull her back into the real world. She left him with a wry smile. Sometimes pain was the right choice.

* * *

Being sexed up... dealing with raging hormones... feeling lonely and abandoned, those were things that were hard for Buffy to deal with. But being armed and dangerous, ready to face whatever big bad was holding this man Dean prisoner... that was up the Slayer’s alley, and it showed in the confidence of her strides as she approached the old wooden structure in the clearing.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail. She wore a short sleeved black polo necked shirt and jeans, a light jacket to hold some of her gear, and heavy boots. Outside the door, she listened for sounds, then pushed it open and let it bang shut behind her. It had creaked so loud that if anyone or anything was in there, they’d know she was here. Including Dean.

It took her very little time to search the two room and find nothing other than abandoned furniture and pictures, dust... dirt. Her gut told her he was here, so she didn’t give up, and eventually found the entrance that went under the shack. Giving it a lift, she threw it back and climbed down the stairs, feeling the wall until she found the light switch.

The light came on... a single bulb hanging from a wire coming down from the ceiling in the middle of the room. That wasn’t all that was hanging. People were hanging from the hooks. Their heads were dropped down onto their chests, and IVs were inserted in them. Frowning, she investigated and found that they were being drained of blood... their blood was being collected in some sort of container.

What the hell was she dealing with here? Some wanna be vampire cult? One by one, she looked at the victims’ faces as she got her blade out. Once she found Dean, she reached up and started to cut the ropes that held him. She was afraid of pulling the IV out... didn’t know if that would do more damage to him. “Dean?” Oh God... if she was too late... it would be all her fault for taking so long to figure this out.

Dean's eyelids fluttered open, his eyes nearly as pale as his skin. He gave a half smile, "Well, look at you, couldn't resist me after all." He winced as his arms started to give. He then dropped into her, forcing her to lay him down. "How... how long have I... Behind you!" He shouted.

The Jinn came up behind her and grabbed her, tossing her away from Dean. Dean tried to reach into his jacket, but his wrist was kicked, knocking it away.

She’d been about to pick him up again and was busy working on a snappy comeback when something strong, powerful, threw her against the wall. Springing back up, murder in her eyes for this... this thing that looked like a stocky male with tattoos all over his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was dealing with an it, and not with a he. And she had no problem with killing its.

“Sonova...” she headed for him, pointing her finger at Dean. “You stay down!” From the amount of blood in the container next to him, he probably couldn’t lose anymore... and the last thing she wanted was that thing attacking him in that state.

Dean pulled the silver knife out, "It's a... a Jinn, you need this!" He climbed up to his knees and tossed the knife toward her. The Jinn had back-handed her, trying to keep her from the knife.

She flipped backwards, using the motion to absorb part of the force of his hit. The instant she landed, she swung her leg around, double-hitting the thing on its side, then dodging away. The knife had skittered past her.

As she made for it, the Jinn attacked again. Grunts of pain erupted from both of them as they went at it head to head. Each time Buffy got close to the knife, it attacked and drew her into combat.

Finally, she fell to the floor and put her hands out to her sides in defeat.

Dean tried to drag himself toward the knife. He might have lost a lot of blood but not his will to keep fighting. Now that there was hope. However at times, he had to roll out of their way.

When Buffy gave up, the Jinn jumped on her. His eyes started to glow and so did his hand as he started to raise it toward her forehead.

Dean pushed the knife into her reach at that moment, hoping she could reach it and stab the bastard.

She’d been trying to draw the Jinn in, and now grabbed its forearm as he reached for her, and simultaneously caught Dean’s knife. The sharp edge cut her hand, but in a smooth motion, she turned it, grabbed it firmly by the hilt and buried it into the Jinn’s side... not once, but twice.

Rolling it’s heavy body off her, she got up and wiped her bloody palm. “You... never listen. Didn’t I tell you to stay down,” she said, giving Dean a mock angry look even as she pulled him up to sit with his back against the wall. She dropped her cell in his lap. “Hit push and call for help, I’ll cut them down. And don’t... you know... faint.” Die is what she meant, what she wouldn’t say.

She moved away to free the other victims and tried not to feel too weird about the fact that she’d met the man she’d been dreaming about... that he might remember the exact nature of the dreams... and if he was anything like his dream version, he probably would tease the hell out of her.

***

Dean had managed to call for help. It took the emergency personnel a while to reach them. Dean and a female victim were the only ones left alive, all the rest of the victims found were dead. The deaths were chalked up to some freak serial killer who liked tattoos. Viewed as an ordinary serial killer, the Jinn's body was taken away. Dean and the girl were whisked to the hospital, where they were given blood transfusions. The police kept Buffy behind to question her on her role and as to the facts.


When Dean woke, this time he was met by lights, hospital lights and his little brother, standing by his bed and smiling with relief. "Thank God, Dean, why do you do this to me?" He shook his head and squeezed his brother's hand.
"Just keeping you on your toes, Sammy," Dean gave a weak smile. The color had returned to his face. He looked about, not seeing Buffy. He frowned. Was he dreaming her rescuing him?

Sam sat down in a chair, pulled up close to Dean's bed. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Dean rubbed his face. "How long have I been here?"

"A day. They said you were doing a lot better and when you felt up to it, we can check out."

"There was a girl... Buffy was her name..."

"She was here, Buffy Summers... she left, she said she had some other things to take care of," Sam reached into his pocket pulling out a piece of paper, "I thought..." He handed him the paper, a print-out he got from the DMV. "She didn't leave a number or anything."

Dean looked at it, "So she was real," he breathed, staring at it.

(A/N: Want to read more of this? Please let us know)