Sleep of the Just *Complete*

~*~



That voice, those eyes, that grin… it was impossible. He was dead. She’d been to his grave, seen his name etched in marble. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think… then she realized and the rage that rose inside her was like a tidal wave.



“How the hell did you get his body?” she hissed, to the demon she knew had to be possessing Dean’s body. “How did you do it?!” It wasn’t possible, Sam would never have let this happen, not in a million years. But there was Sam, walking up behind the demon, his eyes wide in surprise.



“Faith, hey, what are you-“



“Sammy, how could you?” she asked, stepping back, bumping into Dawn. “How could you let that thing inside him?” she demanded and she saw Sam’s eyes widen further as he looked at his brother. Dean was looking confused and annoyingly innocent. He looked at Sam and shrugged and Faith felt a sob rising in her throat. So many thoughts, feelings tearing through her.



“I saw his grave, Sam,” she finally said, then looked at the thing wearing Dean’s body. “I saw the grave, the headstone. Dean’s dead, now get the hell out of his body and let him rest!” Her voice was rising and people were looking at them, but she really didn’t give a damn at that point if the whole world found out about Slayers and demons and monsters and hunters.



Understanding seemed to Dawn on both Sam and the thing-being-Dean’s faces.



“I didn’t die, it wasn’t me,” the Dean-thing said. Sam was nodding.



“It’s true, Faith, it wasn’t him. It was a shapeshifter, trying to frame him for torturing a college student. I swear, this is Dean,” Sam told her, earnestly.



“Dean didn’t die,” she repeated, slowly, staring at Sam. She looked at Dean.



“You didn’t die.”



Dean grinned, that wonderful, infuriating grin.



“Nope, still kicking.” She stared at him for a moment, then drew back her fist and hit him.



~*~



Dean opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the light.



“Too bright,” he mumbled and he heard a female voice say “I’ll turn them out.”



A moment later the room was dim and he was able to see. The first thing he found was a face that he felt like he recognized. He knew she was the girl from the bar who’d been dancing with Faith, but it was more than that. She was hot. Someone he’d hooked up with before?



“I should know you,” he said, carefully. Never a good thing to let a girl know you didn’t remember her after you slept together. She nodded and he felt a moment of profound relief. Getting hit by two women in one night, that would’ve been a record even for him.



“I’m Dawn. Dawn Summers, from Sunnydale,” she said and it clicked in his head.



“You’re Buffy’s little sister,” he said and she sighed.



“Yeah, that too,” she said and he got the idea he’d annoyed her. Groaning, he started to sit up, pausing when the world began to spin.



“I don’t know if you’re supposed to be moving yet,” Dawn said, as Sam came through the door.



“Dean, you’re awake,” Sam said, setting down the bags he was carrying. He moved to the bedside and knelt by it.



“How you feeling?”



“Like I got hit by a truck, or possibly a Slayer,” Dean groaned. He reached up and touched his face carefully, feeling the swollen jaw with his fingertips.



“When I told you to go knock yourself out, I didn’t mean it literally, you know,” Sam said and Dean glared at him.



“Where’s Faith?” he asked.



“She took off, back to our motel room,” Dawn said. “She’s really pissed. She thought you were dead, Dean. She’s been mourning you for over a year now. Angel called Buffy and Giles about it when it happened, to let them know. We got a hold of her a month or two later and she refused to talk about it, but she was pretty ripped up.”



Dean was getting up, sitting on the side of the bed and looking around for his shoes.



“Where do you think you’re going?” Sam asked.



“To find her, explain what happened,” Dean said, spotting his shoes near the door and getting to his feet. His jaw was throbbing and his head was aching, but he was up. That was a good sign. He hoped it meant she hadn’t given him any kind of brain damage with that right hook.



“She knows what happened, Dean, I already told her,” Sam argued.



“I need to tell her myself, okay!?” he snapped, glaring at his brother.



“I can take you to our room. Its a few blocks away,” Dawn said, glancing from one brother to the other.



“Fine, then you can come back and stay with Sam while we deal with this… whatever it is,” Dean growled, putting on his shoes and standing up, looking for his car keys.



“What, you think I’m gonna stay behind and miss this?” Sam asked, grabbing the keys off the table before Dean could reach them. “I don’t think so. And I’m driving. You have a head injury.”



~*~



Dawn watched Dean walk into the room she and Faith were sharing, using her key. She sighed then and crossed her arms, leaning back in the seat. She’d climbed up front after Dean had gotten out and now sat in the passenger seat, with Sam still behind the wheel. Dean had talked his brother out of following him into the room, but Sam was adamant that they were going to wait outside, at least until they knew everything was okay and Faith wasn’t going to kill him for real.



When the door closed behind the elder Winchester brother, Dawn turned her head to look at the other one. Sam still looked the same as he had that summer he and Dean had stayed in Sunnydale. She’d been a kid then, fifteen and she was fairly certain the two of them hadn’t known she existed. She’d noticed them, though. Any girl would have, as long as she had eyes. Dean was cute, definitely, but it was Sam that had her writing page after page in her diaries. Even then, Dean always just called her “Buffy’s little sister” or, when talking to her, “kid”. Sam had at least used her name.



All her life, she’d been the Slayer’s little sister and it drove her nuts. It was just one of the many reasons she’d left Italy. Oh, she was well aware that all of her memories before she was 15 were fabricated by a group of monks, but they sure as hell felt real. Still, it was sort of a double-edged sword. She remembered her life with her mom and Buffy and she held onto those memories as if they were real. Then again, she also remembered the things Faith had done when she was younger, betraying all of them, working for the mayor, but in truth, she’d never met Faith before she showed up at the house to help fight the First. There’d been animosity, sure, but Faith had come through for them, really proved herself to all of them. She and Dawn had clicked then, gotten to be friends for the short time Faith had stayed with the group, before Robin (she still thought of him mostly as Principal Wood) had died from complications from his injuries, before Giles and Buffy had taken Dawn to Italy to live. It drove Buffy nuts, of course, but that was just an added bonus of sorts for both Dawn and Faith.



She glanced at Sam again, wondered if he’d ever been “Dean’s little brother” then figured probably not to anyone but Dean.



“So,” she said, finally breaking the silence, “you guys came here for the vamp nest too?”



~*~



Sam was listening for the sound of breaking furniture- or possibly bones- from inside the motel room and trying to ignore the fact that he was very aware of the girl in the seat next to him. The sound of her voice startled him and he looked at her.



“Huh?”



“Vampires,” she said, “Did you guys come here for them or is there some other big bad in this town?”



“No, we were after the nest too. I mean, I’m sure there’s something else around here, but nothing that came up on the radar,” he said, feeling oddly nervous.



It was Dawn for cripes sake, he’d known her since she was a kid. But then, he hadn’t seen her in years and she definitely wasn’t a kid anymore. By his rough calculation she was 18 now and time had definitely changed her. Gone was the slender, pixie-like, slightly awkward kid and in her place, from what he’d seen so far, was a confident young woman with long legs, curves in all the right places and a mouth that seemed completely fascinating. Her eyes were still big and blue, but no longer quite so wide and innocent looking. He wondered, in a vague sort of way, if Faith would break him for making a pass at Dawn.



Sam flicked a glance at the motel room door.



“So, do you think she’ll hit him again?” he asked and Dawn cocked her head to the side, thinking.



“Maybe. Depends on what he says and if she’s more pissed or happy that he’s still alive,” she finally said.



They waited for a few minutes longer and there was only silence from the motel.



“What do you think’s going on?” he asked, finally.



“If she’s not beating the crap out of him? Um…” Dawn trailed of and Sam sighed. It was Faith and Dean after all.



“Yeah.”



~*~