Sleep of the Just *Complete*

~*~

“You have to tell her, Dean,” Sam said, quietly, as they watched Faith’s car drive down Bobby’s driveway.

“I can’t. You can’t. Promise me, Sammy. You can’t tell her or Dawn either,” Dean said. Sam looked at him.

“Dean, she-“

“No, Sam! She can’t know. Please, promise me,” Dean said and Sam sighed.

“Okay. I promise, I won’t tell them,” he said, grudgingly.

Dawn was out of the car before it even came to a stop, running toward them, relief on her face to see Sam standing in front of her. He caught her when she reached them, her arms around his waist, face buried in his chest and Sam held her. Dean looked away, feeling like he was intruding.

Faith was out of the car and walking toward him and a normal pace, casual, looking unconcerned, but her eyes gave her away. She was worried. She knew something wasn’t right. Slayer instincts or just plain old fashioned women’s intuition?

“Are you both okay?” she asked, when she reached him, hands in her back pockets again, a sure sign that she was trying to keep from reaching out. “Bobby wouldn’t tell us anything but that you were here.”

“We’re good. Sam got stabbed, but he’s better and we’re back in it,” Dean said. He watched her control her hands and suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward, caught her wrists and pulled her hands out of her pockets, guiding her arms until they were around his neck. She tilted her head to one side, smiling a little, but there was still hesitation in her eyes. He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Life’s too short for that,” he said, quietly and then he kissed her. Only then did her body relax, her arms tightening around him as she returned the kiss.

~*~

Something was up. Both she and Dawn had been relieved to find them alive and whole, but ever since they’d met up at Bobby’s, something had been different. Dean and Sam had a secret. Every so often, she’d see them glance at each other, a look with weight to it, one that said they were communicating without words. The brothers themselves were different as well.

Sam seemed worried, as if he had something on his mind, something that he couldn’t let go of. He showed them his new scar, a nasty knife wound next to his spine that looked to Faith like it should have killed him. She’d seen her share of stab wounds and that one looked fatal. Still, there he was, standing before them and she’d seen him handle holy water, splashing it on his hands, along with salt and any other number of things that a demon couldn’t touch. It seemed he’d cheated death. The Winchesters were sort of good at that, she supposed.

Then there was Dean. In the three weeks since they’d been back together, he’d been a different man. He still wasn’t the roses and wine type, but he didn’t seem to hold much back any more. Oh, there were no declarations of everlasting love, no Hallmark words, but there were definite changes. He touched her more, for no reason except she was within reach. He kissed her in public, seemingly whenever the mood struck him, and at night… it was like he was trying to fit as much into each day as possible. Most nights they didn’t sleep until dawn and then were able to catch a few hours sleep before Sam was knocking at the door, telling them it was time to go.

One morning as they were getting into the Impala, with Sam starting her car in the space beside them, Faith looked at Dean.

“What’s going on, Dean?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t pretend not to understand. They’d just spent the entire night making love, barely resting afterward before he was kissing her again, touching her, bringing her back to him. They hadn’t slept more than an hour before Sam had knocked and it was time to leave. Even then, he’d looked at her like he wasn’t ready to leave the room, the bed.

He was silent for a long moment after she asked, revving the engine to let the car warm up. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he didn’t look at her when he answered.

“When Sam… got hurt, I guess it just made me realize how little time we really have. To live I mean. I don’t want to waste it.”

His voice was tight and there was a lot more he wasn’t saying, but it was enough. She let it go, leaning over and kissing his cheek, lightly, before curling up on the seat, her head resting on his thigh and closing her eyes.

~*~

Dean brushed his hand lightly over Faith’s hair, glancing down at her, then looking back at the road. His eyes were tired, gritty from lack of sleep, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to spend as much time as humanly possible living his life before it was over. He could feel the heat of her breath on his stomach, through his t-shirt. The weight of her head on his lap. His leather jacket was covering her and she slept soundly. She was probably exhausted, but she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t complained, or told him no, that she wanted to sleep. She seemed to sense the urgency that had taken hold of him, but she didn’t ask about it again. That was good, because he didn’t want to lie to her and there was no way he could tell her the truth.

If Faith ever found out that he’d traded his soul for Sam’s life, she’d never forgive him. Worse, like Sam, she’d try to find a way to get him out of it. He had one year to live, less now and he didn’t intend to spend it beating his head against a wall. There was no way to break the deal, nothing that could be done. In less than a year, the hellhounds would come and Dean would be dragged into hell. In the meantime, he planned to live every minute like it was his last.

~*~

Time passed, faster, it seemed, than it should have and Sam watched his brother continue to live as if his death weren’t looming on the horizon. Guilt ate at him and he kept searching for a loophole, some way to break the deal before Dean’s time was up. He just kept coming up empty handed.

Dawn knew something was very wrong, but when he told her he couldn’t talk about it, she didn’t ask again. He might’ve gone crazy if she hadn’t been there, with him, always beside him. She was so much more than he ever could have imagined she would be. Strong, brave, smart and sexy. She did the job like she was born to it, never flinching, always willing to do the dirty work when it was her turn. More than that, she accepted him, all of him, even the darker parts. She’d caught him using his telekinesis one night outside a bar, when he was a little drunk and angry at the world. He’d been blowing up empty beer bottles in the alley and he’d heard her gasp. Instead of screaming or running, she’d asked him what was going on and he told her, all of it. The psychic children, the yellow eyed demon, everything. She already knew about the way the gates of Hell had opened, the demons that had escaped. This just completed the story. Most of it, anyway, he amended to himself, silently. He couldn’t tell her that he’d died, that Dean had sacrificed himself to bring him back. Afterward, he’d waited for her to turn away, but she hadn’t.

The four of them traveled, they hunted, they killed things and they did it well. Sam lost count of the people they helped, the towns they stayed in. The months were passing, and so was Dean’s life. They were running out of time, with less than a week to go, when Dawn got a call from her sister.

~*~

“Buffy’s coming back to California,” Dawn said, after she’d hung up the phone. She looked at Faith. “She wants us to meet her at the airport, in Sacramento.”

It was nearly sundown and they were standing at a gas station, leaning on the trunk of Dean’s car while they waited for he and Sam to finish paying for the gas and buying whatever snacks they’d managed to locate. Dean had been mumbling something about needing pie when they went in.

“Us?” Faith said, raising an eyebrow and Dawn blushed.

“Well, me, but I was hoping you’d go with me?” Dawn said.

Faith glanced at the store, where the Winchesters could be seen through the glass doors, standing at the counter

“What about them?” she asked, quietly and Dawn followed her gaze.

“It’s kind of a lot to ask, isn’t it? ‘Hey, babe, will you drive across a continent to meet my sister and her Watcher, who will most likely give you the third degree and do everything in their power to make sure you never want to see me again?’ Not the conversation I’m wanting to have.”

“You really think it would be that bad?” Faith asked, smiling a little. Dawn looked at her.

“Yeah, it would be that bad.”

Faith just shook her head. Dean and Sam were coming out of the store, walking up to them carrying bags. Dean was munching on one of those little pre-packaged pies that never seemed to go bad and tasted sort of like rubber. Faith raised an eyebrow at it and he shrugged.

“It was the closest thing they had,” he grumbled. She just smiled.

“My sister called,” Dawn was telling Sam and Faith looked over, waiting to see how Sam would take the news. “She’s flying in from Italy at the end of the week and she wants me to meet her in Sacramento.”

“Sure she does, I bet she misses you,” Sam said, smiling a little, but still looking sort of sad, as if he’d already figured out that he and Dean wouldn’t be joining them.

“When are you leaving?” Dean asked, from beside her.

“I figured we could spend the evening together, then leave in the morning?” Dawn said, looking apologetic.

“Sure, Dawn. That should give us enough time to get there by Saturday and meet her and Giles at the airport,” Faith said.

They loaded into their respective cars, Dean and Faith in the Impala, Sam and Dawn in Faith’s Honda and drove the remaining ten miles to the nearest town. They checked into a motel, leaving their bags in the rooms and walking down the street to a Mexican restaurant. There was a band playing in the corner and a small dance floor where several couples were dancing to the salsa music. The four of them took a booth in the back, barely glancing at the menu before ordering their respective favorites. Once the waitress disappeared, Faith hopped up out of her seat.

“Who’s gonna dance with me?” she asked, glancing at Dean, with a flirty, teasing smile. She knew he hated to dance.

“Not on your life,” he said with a grin, “but I’ll watch you all night.” She laughed and held out her hand to Dawn, pulling the younger girl to her feet. Dawn smiled and followed willingly and Faith looked from Dean to Sam, who was shaking his head, and back again with a sigh.

“You boys just don’t know what you’re missing,” she said with a grin, leading Dawn out onto the dance floor.

~*~

Dean stared at Faith and Dawn, watching the Slayer move her body to the beat. Her movements were smooth, flawless, a natural talent for dancing. Part of the Slayer package, he supposed. Anyone who could fight like that could probably dance well too. Still, mechanics aside, she was beautiful when she danced, full of life.

“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” he heard and he looked over at Sam. His brother was staring at him, a mixture of sadness and anger on his face.

“I already told you that, Sam. I can’t tell her.”

“Jesus, Dean, you have less than a week to live!” Sam hissed. “She’s going to leave tomorrow and she has no idea that you won’t be alive long enough to see her again!”

“That’s the plan, Sam,” Dean said, his tone steely, determined.

“It’s not fair, Dean,” Sam argued.

“No, it’s not fair,” he agreed, quietly. He looked at Sam, met his eyes without wavering.

“If Faith finds out about the deal, she’ll try to stop it, try to break it. I can’t let that happen, Sam. I can’t let her, or anyone, sacrifice for me. It has to stop with this. No more deals,” he said. Sam fell silent and Dean turned back to the dance floor, to watch Faith and force a smile when she looked his way.

~*~

Faith leaned in the window of the Impala, her feet off the ground as she kissed Dean, once again. They were loaded up, ready to go and the sun was beginning to rise. She didn’t think that the two of them had slept at all the night before and Dawn was sitting in the driver’s seat of her car, waiting. She and Sam had already said their goodbyes.

She pulled back from the kiss and smiled, fingering the brown leather jacket that she was wearing.

“You’re sure? I know how much you love this jacket, Dean,” she said.

“I’m sure,” he said again, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Okay then. I promise to take good care of it and bring it back safe and sound,” she vowed. She kissed him again, lightly, meeting his eyes for a long moment.

“See you soon, Winchester,” she said, quietly.

“Goodbye, Faith,” he said and she tilted her head, curiously at the way he’d spoken, before giving him a smile and backing away from the Impala. She got into the passenger side of the Honda and looked at Dawn.

“Okay, girlfriend, lets hit the road.”

~*~

One week later…

“Bring him back!” Sam shouted at the dark haired woman. She smiled, her eyes solid, shiny black and shook her head.

“No can do, Sam. He’s too big a fish to let go, even for your soul.” She turned to walk away.

“No, that can’t be the end of it, dammit! There has to be something you want bad enough to trade for him!” Hope sparked when the demon paused, looking back at him.

“Well…”

“What? What is it? What do you want?” he demanded.

“There is one thing…”

~*~

“No. No, that’s not true, it can’t be.”

Faith was staring at Sam, her eyes growing bright with tears, her face drained of color. Her hands gripped the cuffs of Dean’s jacket, fingers bruising the leather and her body started to shake. Eyes wide, Dawn put her arms around the Slayer and held onto her as Faith wavered on her feet.

“It’s true,” Sam said, his own voice hoarse from crying. “He made me swear not to tell you, Faith, I’m sorry. He was afraid you’d do something to try and stop it, that you’d try to make a deal for him.”

“He was right,” Faith said, leaning on Dawn, who had silent tears running down her cheeks. She hugged Dawn close, kissed the top of her head, then pulled away.

“Faith, were are you going?” Sam asked.

“To the crossroads,” she said, quietly.

“Faith, no, you can’t,” Dawn said, biting her lip.

“I have to. Dean can’t be dead. The world cannot be okay if Dean is dead,” Faith said, starting for the door.

“I already tried, Faith,” Sam said and she paused, looking back at him.

“I called the demon and tried to make a deal. They won’t do it.”

“Not for anything?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“No,” Sam said, slowly. “Not for anything.”

Faith turned, leaned on the door and slowly sank down against it, tears finally escaping. She buried her face in her arms and cried. Sam felt Dawn beside him and he reached out, pulling her close while she cried against him, but his eyes lingered on Faith. Because he’d lied to her. There was one thing the demons would trade for Dean, but he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t let her live with that kind of choice. Besides, there’s no way his brother would ever forgive him, in this life or the next, if Dean’s child fell into the hands of the demons.