Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ In Omnia Paratus ❯ When It's Over ( Chapter 15 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

AN: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!! I swear I didn't mean to take this long! I don't know what happened! I have been writing, really, I have! A lot! But still this chapter took forever to write. But it is the chapter that wraps everything up…

Well, anyway, enjoy!

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Dean's mind went absolutely blank for a long moment. When he was able to think again, all he could think was, It's not possible…they can't do that to us…

“You've gotta be kidding me.”

It wasn't Dean who said it—no, he could barely form these small thoughts, much less put them into words. Cordelia, though, apparently had no problem with that. “I mean, what kind of higher power strips someone of themselves before sending them home? Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

“Well, actually, I am, and I woulda said so if you'd stop chattering,” Doyle said, cutting off her rant.

Dean didn't look away from Sam when Doyle said that. He couldn't possibly mean what it sounded like he meant.

“Doyle,” Angel growled. “If you're saying you were joking about him having amnesia…well, it's a good thing for you that you're untouchable.”

“Well, like I told Sam, I have to get my jollies somehow…thought I gotta admit, that…wasn't really as funny as it seemed in my head.” Doyle sighed. “Dean?”

Dean looked up slowly, and Doyle looked sympathetic now. “Let's just forget what I said, okay? I…well, like Angel said, it's a good thing you guys can't get your hands on me.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Dean asked flatly. “Because I'm sick and tired of all of this.”

Doyle sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, it's like this. You, and your brother, are two of our champions. Angel here is another one, only, uh…more connected.”

“Champion. Okay, sure. I'm a champ. I get a gold metal. You're trying my patience.”

“Well, see, the kind of champions you are don't get prizes, exactly. It's just sort of a save-humanity deal. Not something you choose, just…well, you get the idea. You became one pretty much the night your mother died. So did Sam, and your father two. And there aren't many, either. So when one of you guys is in danger, the PTB likes to watch them.”

“So you're saying…” Dean let himself trail off, hardly daring to hope…again.

“I'm saying I think I really can give you your brother back, good as new—memories and all.”

Dean looked steadily at him, using all his reserves to remain stoic. “Worst-case scenario?”

“Your brother's soul really has moved on since I got here. And if that is true, then Sam really will come back without his memories. Are you willing to take the chance of dragging him out of an almost-paradise back to this world?”

Dean looked back at Sam, lying there, an empty shell of himself. He thought about the risks, and about where Sam might be right now, and how happy his brother might be.

“Do it.”

XXX

For all the talk beforehand, the ritual to get Sam's soul back into his body actually only took about five minutes. Doyle didn't make any preparations—a fact that wasn't lost on some of the more keen-eyed members of the group.

“Hey, don't you need a channel? Like an Orb of Thessulah or something?” Angel asked.

“Oh…no. It's a power thing,” Doyle said simply. “Hey, someone check for nurses before you all get kicked out of here.”

A minute later, Cordelia pronounced the coast clear, and Doyle requested that they get quiet so that he wouldn't be distracted and botch the whole thing. Then he placed a careful hand on Sam's head, and the other on his chest.

There was no chanting or anything of the sort. For a few endless moments Doyle just stood there silently, eyes closed. Then, without warning, Doyle removed his hands and said, “It's done.”

And then the monitors changed their pattern of incessant, steady beeps. Dean looked from them, to Sam, who showed no outward differences.

“It worked? Then why isn't he waking up, Doyle?” Dean asked dangerously.

“Because I did all the basic healing, but his body will take a while to recharge. He should be awake within a day, though.”

“And…and will he have his memory…when he does?” Dean asked.

“I can't say where his soul came from. You won't know until he wakes up. It's pretty much 50/50,” Doyle said.

“Still…um…thank you,” Dean said awkwardly. “For…you know…”

“I think not exorcising me when I made all those horrible jokes at your expense said it for me,” Doyle said with a chuckle. Then he sighed deeply. “Okay, I need to beat it now. I've already been here longer than I was supposed to stay.”

“But…I mean…do you have to?”

“Afraid so, Princess. Duty calls and all.” Doyle smiled gently. “But back up. I doubt it'll be the last time we see each other. No tears, okay?”

Cordelia sniffed. “Yeah, like I'd cry over you.”

“That's the spirit.”

Angel spoke up then. “Doyle, I…I…”

Doyle looked at him, and his smile grew. “I know.”

Angel nodded.

“Well, then…catch you on the flip side, I guess.”

XXX

The nurse at the front desk was just coming in for the four A.M. shift when room 314 rang for a doctor. The nurse checked her file, and frowned in confusion. “Samuel Winchester…?” she muttered, going to the phone. She paged Dr. Greenwalt. Then, too curious for her own good, she went to the room herself.

She found three people there—one sitting in a chair, hand resting on the arm of the man in the bed. The other two—a young woman and a tall, pale man in dark clothing—were standing on the far side of the room.

“Did someone in here call?”

The man in the chair—if the nurse remembered correctly, he was Samuel's cousin, Greg—though they seemed far closer than that—turned and said, with extraordinary calm, “Yeah. I did. Look.”

The nurse looked to the monitors he was pointing at, and bit back a gasp. “That's…not possible…” she murmured.

“Maybe not, but it's happened. And now you need to do the stuff people do in hospitals.”

“Well, I-I've pages the doctor. He's on his way,” the nurse explained. Then, mostly to have something to do, she began checking all the machines and Samuel's IV.

She received another shock when she found nothing wrong with the machines—they were all reading correctly.

Brain activity in a brain-dead patient. How is it possible?

XXX

Dean didn't loosen his grip on his brother's arm the whole time that Dr. Greenwalt looked him over. He was asked to move a couple of times, but in the end, he won out, of course.

The doctor just couldn't seem to get over it. He kept murmuring, “How?” and “It's impossible” at random intervals. Just when Dean was ready to toss him out the three-story window, Greenwalt stepped away from Sam and looked at Dean. “Greg—”

Dean wondered for a moment who he was talking to, then remembered his alias. “Hmm?”

“I need to ask you…when did this happen?”

“Uh…about forty-five minutes ago,” Dean replied. “He didn't wake up, but…his pulse changed.”

“Uh-huh. Thank you…” Greenwalt said distractedly.

“Excuse me, but…is he gonna be all right?” Cordelia asked, having reached the end of her patience.

Greenwalt looked absolutely baffled as he answered. “As far as I can tell…yes. It doesn't make any sense, but…he seems fine. Still unconscious, obviously, but it doesn't seem permanent. It's…”

“Yeah. I know. A miracle. Unprecedented. Unbelievable. All words to describe it,” Dean said irritably.

“Listen…I never actually found out how you came to be here in the first place. What—”

“Okay. Well, thank you for your time. We'll keep an eye on him until he wakes up, You can check on him again then,” Angel said, already guiding Greenwalt out of the room.

“I think he should be monitored by a professional—”

“I'm practiced at this,” Dean said. “Not the first time he's been in a hospital, which you would know if you looked at all into your patients' files. I know what to watch for, so you don't have to worry about it. Oh, and one more thing before you go. I need you to take out his ventilator.”

Greenwalt shook his head. “I really must insist on that point—it should be kept the way it is until we know for sure he'll keep breathing on his own.”

“No. Sam can't do ventilators. He panics. And not just any little freak-out, either. It's bad. I'm not putting him through that. Not after all this. And you can't leave it without consent.”

So, looking extremely unhappy about it, Greenwalt removed Sam's ventilator. Sam's chest continued to rise and fall without it, and Dean felt a lump grow in his throat.

As Greenwalt was leaving, Dean's voice again stopped him. “Oh, and one other thing, Doctor. This whole thing—Sam's `miracle' and all—it doesn't get out. At all. It stays between you, us in this room, and it doesn't get out of this hospital. Understand?”

“Of course,” Dr. Greenwalt said, looking so offended that Dean actually felt bad. “Doctor-patient confidentiality clause. I never break it,” he added as he left.

“Well, on that note…Dean, don't you want to go back to Buffy's and get some sleep?” Cordelia asked.

“No,” Dean said flatly.

“Well, I'm not saying you should move in or anything, but…don't you think just a couple of hours of rest would—I mean, you haven't slept since I met you, you look like crap now, you've been through hell and it's like five in the morning. And Angel here can watch over Sam…”

“No. I…I need to be here when he wakes up.”

Cordelia smiled. “All righty, then. But I think someone should go and give the good news. And I'm guessing you'd like to be alone with him when he—so Angel and I'll go, okay? Okay…”

Dean smiled back at her, and it felt strange, but so good. “Thank you.” And that felt strange, too.

“Call us when he wakes up,” Angel said. “I'd like to…meet him.”

“Same here. I'm really happy for you,” Cordelia added with a smile.

“I'm happy for me, too.”

Dean turned back to Sam as they left, and his hand strayed back to rest on his brother's wrist, over his pulse. It's beating…

XXX

Dean didn't even get up out of that chair for the rest of the day. Nor did he doze off, though once or twice his eyes fell closed without his permission or approval. Every time this happened, though, he would snap to in less than half a minute, feeling obscurely guilty for neglecting his vigil.

The first time Sam actually moved, actually turned on his side to face Dean, it was like day and night and sun and star all rolled into one. Dean found his heart jumping into his throat as Sam's hair fell forward over his face like it always did when he slept, and before he thought about it he was reaching forward and pushing it back. Sam jerked and slapped his hand away irritably, mumbling in his sleep, like he always did when Dean touched or teased him about the “mop.”

Dean cried.

It was only for a moment, and then he managed to catch himself. Seriously, how pathetic was he, getting all teary over his brother's hair? But even after he held back the actual flow, the feeling of tears remained.

They irritated him, made him feel vulnerable and childish and so many things that just weren't Dean.

So, instinctively, he fell back on the thing that always made him feel like the older brother, the strong one, again. He thought about just how much he was going to kill Sam when he woke up. Well, not literally, obviously—but there was going to be a lot of yelling and screaming and scolding.

And some new rules about getting oneself possessed by an evil demonic creature and then dying.

Dean reached out and rearranged the pillows under Sam's head, and it was only then that he noticed one was missing—it was in Sam's arms. What the—? Dean wondered idly as he reached out and took the pillow from his brother.

Sam groaned softly.

Dean looked swiftly at him, but the other man's eyes were still closed, so Dean naturally assumed he had imagined it, and when back to wondering about the pillow he himself now held and planning his lecture.

“Oh, crap…”

Dean nearly tipped the chair over in his surprise. His head swiveled around to Sam so quickly he felt his neck crick. He found Sam's eyes wide open, staring at him, full of confusion.

Dean's heart plummeted like Shamu in those Sea World commercials. He doesn't remember…

“…Why're you holding that pillow?”

XXX

Sam's awakening was almost exactly as it had been three days before in Japan: painless but slow and exhausting. In fact, for a few moments he just lay there, trying to remember what had happened to him now. It must have been something, for him to be so tired…

And then it came rushing back, all at once, and Sam's eyes snapped open. Images flew through his mind—memories of a killing, terrible pain, of being caught in gray, and then of that one moment of utter clarity just before he fell into the black.

“Oh, crap…”

A small noise caught his attention when he spoke aloud. He looked around—taking in the plain whiteness and machinery that always meant hospital room—and his eyes fell on his brother. Dean was sitting in a chair as close to the bed as he could get. He wasn't actually touching Sam, but his hand was resting next to him. His other arm was wrapped around a pillow so tightly the thing was practically folded in half.

“…Why're you holding that pillow?”

The next thought he had was that he now knew what that pillow felt like, because the hug that Dean jumped forward to give him now was quite sufficient to crush all the air from his lungs.

He tried not to freak out, he really did. But seriously, the last time his brother had hugged him like this, he had been half-collapsed on the lawn of a Stanford dorm, reeling from his girlfriend's death. “Dean, what…?” he murmured, even as his arms came up to clasp his brother reassuringly.

Dean's arms tightened briefly, and then, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing, he leaned back, resting his hands on Sam's shoulders. He looked Sam carefully in the eye, his own oddly bright. “Damn it, Sammy, I cannot believe how much I'm going to kill you.”

“Dean, what's going on? What happened?” Sam asked, gently. “I mean, you look…you sound…terrible. And…well, I remember almost everything except…well, the last of it. Did I …I mean, did anyone…um…die?”

Dean just looked at him, and the realization struck suddenly.

“Oh…I did,” Sam said weakly. Dean nodded tightly. “Hence the reason you're gonna kill me?”

“Really, really a lot, yeah,” Dean said, but his voice was unsteady and his hands trembled a little as he let go of Sam and stood up.

“Well…uh…how long?” Sam asked.

Dean glanced at his watch. “Eighteen hours and forty-seven minutes exactly.”

Sam smiled at that, though he was still concerned about his brother. “And…and how did I get…back? I mean, how am I not…dead now?”

“Well, technically, you weren't dead in the first place,” Dean explained, voice so casual that Sam knew he was rapidly falling apart—or maybe he already had. “Well, not your body, anyway. Just whatever's in that freaky head of yours. And you got to come back because of your `guide'…”

“Doyle? Doyle was here?” Sam asked, shocked. “But he said he couldn't allow humans to know he existed…he even wiped my memory every time I saw him in my dreams…”

Dean shrugged. “Things change, I guess.”

“Come on, bro, spill—”

“Oh, my goodness,” a voice said from the doorway. Dean and Sam both turned quickly, and saw a nurse in the doorway. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes as she murmured, “You…woke up.”

“Yeah. Doc said it was gonna happen,” Dean snapped. “In fact, why don't you go get him?”

“Wow…that was kinda…rude,” Sam commented as the nurse left again.

Dean shrugged. “You try spending half the night and a day with these people and see how polite you are. Plus, the sooner you get checked over the sooner they will let us leave.”

“Well, I'm all for that part,” Sam agreed. “But they'll want to keep me here, at least overnight, probably longer. For `observation.' In other words, to find out exactly why I'm not dead. Hey, what if—”

“No one will publicize this. Already laid down that law,” Dean informed him. “And they'll want you to stay, sure, but wanting you to and being able to make you—those are different things completely. You're all right…you are all right, aren't you?” he interrupted himself suddenly, looking again at Sam.

Sam nodded and smiled. “I'm fine. Promise.”

“Good. So we're just gonna get that checked out to make sure and then we'll get outta this hell-hole. Whatever they say about it.”

Sam suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Uh…Dean? How're we gonna pay the bill?”

“You let me worry about that. I'll figure…something out.”

XXX

“I strongly advise against this,” Dr. Greenwalt murmured, reluctantly signing the last of Sam's release forms.

Dean shrugged. “Well, it's a good thing it's our decision, then. As in, mine and his.”

“Dean,” Sam murmured, embarrassed, from where he sat on the bed. They had managed to procure him some sweats, and he was more than ready to go. “Don't be so grumpy.”

Dean grunted irritably, but as Greenwalt handed him the forms to sign, a small smile darted across his face. He jotted his signature across every form and then handed them to Sam. “Your turn, geek. Hurry up, I wanna get out.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Sam muttered. He did hurry, too—in less than thirty seconds he was done, and Dean helped him to his feet—he was a little unsteady but not in much danger of actually falling.

“Dean, seriously,” Sam whispered as the brothers walked behind Dr. Greenwalt toward the front desk. “How do you plan to pay for my room time? Didn't you check me in under my own name?”

“Yeah. But I am, at the moment, your esteemed cousin Greg…who…uh…neglected to get himself a credit card. Oh, hell…”

XXX

The Summers Home

“Oh, my God, you're here!”

The ear-splitting screech came the second Willow opened the door, and she threw an arm awkwardly around Sam's neck. Startled, but also secretly pleased, Sam hugged her back. As she stepped away, he took in her bound-up arm and said softly, “I'm so sorry, Willow.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Don't worry about it.”

“Hey, Willow,” Dean broke in. “I have a question for any and all of you and now seems like as good a time as any to—”

“You're back! Hey, guys, they're back!” Xander called into the kitchen as he came over to clasp Sam's arm warmly. He clapped Dean's shoulder and asked, “You guys all right?”

“We're good,” Dean replied. He didn't realize that he slurred his speech, but Xander and Willow did, and so did everyone else as they crowded into the hall.

“Are you sure? Because you look tired,” Tara said, looking concerned even as she smiled shyly at the brothers.

“I'm not. Really,” Dean told her.

“Oh, you are so full of crap,” a voice snapped irritably, from the back of the group. Sam looked confused as Cordelia came forward, dragging Angel behind her, and Dean suddenly remembered that he'd never officially met either of them. “Anyone could see that you're dead on your feet. And your brother's gonna need his rest, too, in case you didn't figure it out. Hi, I'm Cordelia.”

Sam felt a slow smile spread across his face as he shook her hand. This must be the psychic, then. She's…not what I expected.

“And Tall, Dark and Undead here is Angel,” Cordelia added, bringing the vampire forward.

Sam reached out to shake his hand, and jumped a little. If he had any doubts that Angel was actually a vampire before, they had been laid to rest—the hand was ice cold.

“Oh, good, you didn't burst into flames on the way over here,” Dean said.

“Yeah, beat the sunrise. It's nice to meet you, uh…”

“Just call me Sam. And…do you even have a last name?” Sam asked curiously.

“If I did once, I've long forgotten it,” Angel replied.

“Well, anyway,” Cordelia broke in. “You two should get some sleep. Like, right now. My personal opinion—which, you have to admit, counts a lot.”

Dean smiled at her—honestly, he had smiled more in the last five minutes than he had all week—and said, “Wanna come with me?”

“DEAN!” Sam thundered.

Cordelia, though, just giggled. “Seriously, if that's the best he can come up with, you shouldn't be too worried anyone will fall for it.”

“Hey, I'm tired! Give a guy a break—”

“Aha! So you admit it!” Cordelia said triumphantly. “I win, which means bedtime for you two. Alone. And me. And probably everyone else, too.”

“Tell me about it. I haven't been so tired in at least a week,” Buffy said.

“Yes, I feel quite old at the moment,” Giles added.

“We should hit the road,” Anya said to Xander. “We can go back to the apartment and have post-battle-and-major-trauma s—”

“Okay, An, let's go then!” Xander said, much too loudly and much too quickly.

“You guys are staying?” Buffy asked Cordelia and Angel.

“Well…I guess so,” Angel said uncomfortably. “I can't leave the house…”

“That's okay. But there's nowhere—”

“We don't mind the floor in the living room,” Cordelia said.

“You realize that means rooming with Giles, right?” Willow asked.

“As long as he doesn't snore.”

“I assure you I do not!” Giles said, looking highly offended.

“There are blankets and stuff in the hall closet,” Buffy said as she, Willow and Tara headed up the stairs, and after Kurama came over to speak to the brothers for a moment, he and Hiei went outside.

“Where are they—” Angel started to ask.

“Porch. They sleep there,” Dean replied casually. “C'mon, Sammy, let's get you up to bed before you call down…”

“Yeah, `cause I'm the one in danger of that,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Um…Cordelia…”

“We'll talk tomorrow…Sammy.” Sam groaned, and Cordelia chuckled. “Sorry, just had to try out the nickname. Good…er…well, day, I guess.”

XXX

Dean didn't actually remember walking up to the guest room with Sam, or changing his clothes, or falling onto the pallet on the floor. He didn't remember Sam trying to give him the bed, or the argument that resulted, or winning the argument and leaving Sam the bed.

The next time things were clear, it was ten o'clock at night and Sam wasn't in his bed. Dean couldn't muster up too much concern, though—there were two many people in the house for anything else to happen.

Still, better check it out.

XXX

“Are you aware that it's ten P.M.?” Dean asked when he went into the kitchen and found Willow at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Tara and Giles sat at the table. “Or are those painkillers messing with your mind?”

“Yes, I know what time it is, and the only thing the drugs do is make me peppy. Come on, don't tell me you're not hungry,” Willow said brightly, awkwardly flipping the pancakes left-handed.

“Baby, don't you want me to help?” Tara asked, looking concerned.

“I told you, I need some way to channel my energy,” Willow replied. “And this gives me a chance to become ambidextrous.”

“You are the strangest girl,” Giles informed her.

“You're all weird,” Dean snapped. “Where's my brother?”

“He and Cordelia have been in our room for like an hour now,” Tara said with a grin. “Of course, no one knows what they're doing in there…”

“Talking. Nothing else. I know what you're thinking, but the truth is, Sam hasn't had any in almost a year,” Dean said without any joke in his voice. “For an hour, though? Seriously?”

“Mm-hmm. None of us know what it's about,” Tara said.

“Mystery,” Giles added.

“Not so much,” Dean replied. “Sam's…he's been wondering if he was the only person with the Shining out there for…a long time now. Now that he's found someone like him…” Dean shrugged. “I wouldn't expect to see either of them for a while yet. What about everyone else?”

“You mean the hoard of people currently living in this house?” Giles asked. “Well, Xander and Anya came by earlier today, but they went back home when they found out that your nap was longer than anticipated. I have no idea where those Japanese chaps are—they haven't made a sound coming and going, so for all we know they're in this room right now. I've grown to trust them, though, so all's well. And Buffy and Angel are patrolling.”

“Patrolling? Is that some British term for—”

“Dean, after being under the same roof as you for two days it doesn't take much for me to see where you're going and I beg of you to stop before you get there,” Giles said, absentmindedly wiping his glasses off on his shirt. “As I said, the two of them are patrolling. Literally.”

“For what? Muggers?” Dean mocked, falling into his easiest line of conversation.

“Vampires, demons, evil bad,” Willow said, turning off the stove. “Come and get it if you want it.”

“Did Sam eat?” Dean asked, going over to help himself. He took three, then looked at everyone else, determined that he was the only one eating, and took three more.

“Mm-hmm. Not quite like you are, but enough.” Tara smiled reassuringly at Dean. “Try not to worry so much. He seems absolutely fine.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, well, the thing about my brother—he's a great actor when he wants to be. I'd have to talk to him face-to-face to get a real idea. Then again, with all the road ahead of us…I'll have plenty of time to figure him out.”

XXX

Meanwhile, In The Guest Room

“So you're actually awake during your visions?”

Cordelia, sitting on the floor under the window across from the bed Sam was sitting on, nodded. “Yep. Never had one in a dream before. What's that like?”

Sam shrugged. “Like a nightmare, pretty much.”

“So how do you tell the difference?”

“Well…” Sam said, trying to figure out how to explain it. “The visions are…clearer, but sort of not. I see things more vividly, and I feel what the people in the visions feel, and sometimes I just know things. I don't…really know how to put it into words.”

“I know the feeling well enough. It's probably because we've never had to put it into words,” Cordelia said.

“So what are yours like?” Sam asked. “I mean, I know you're awake during them, but what do you…”

“Feel?” Sam nodded. “Like you, apparently. You know, I feel what they feel, memorize the facts.”

“Well, what about…do you ever feel any pain?” Sam asked. “I mean, I wake up with these headaches sometimes. Just…really horrible things. And…well, I was wondering if that was…um…”

“You are trying really hard to think of a word other than `normal',” Cordelia commented with a grin. “And yes, I get headaches. Starts out as a kind of pressure—that's how I know what's coming—and then when the pictures come the pressure kind of…explodes. And then it's just big pain.” Cordelia pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “But it's nothing that can't be dealt with.”

Sam looked at her for a long moment, as if he was trying to puzzle something out. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Cordelia asked.

“Make our…problem…sound so simple.”

Cordelia's eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. “Simple? Are you serious? It's anything but simple. Always having something to hide, covering it up if I have a vision in public, dealing with the problems of so many different people, never knowing when to expect the next one to hit…it's never simple.”

“I know. God, I know. But you made it sound simple.”

“I'm just used to playing it down, I guess. I have to do that a lot.”

Sam chuckled. “Me, too. Dean hates showing it, but his concern knows no bounds. And this `Shining deal' as he calls it causes that concern to go through the roof.”

“Angel's exactly the same way. Like guard dogs, they are. But…I gotta admit, I think it's sweet.”

“Well, I'm a guy, no matter how much my brother denies it. I don't think that way. To me, it's just annoying,” Sam said with a smile, and then silence fell. After a while, Sam brought up a question he had been wondering about. “Hey, Cordelia? Can I ask you a really personal question?”

“`Cause everything we've talked about up to now has been open to the public. Yeah, sure, ask me anything.”

“Uh…have you ever felt like a…like a freak?”

Cordelia snorted with laughed. “Oh, my God, yes. I mean, I work with…really bizarre people—like Angel—but I was never all that unusual myself. And then Doyle passed along his visions to me, like I told you. And suddenly, I was one of the whacky ones.”

“Do you resent it?”

Cordelia didn't pause to think about it. “No. No, I don't. I mean, while I'm having a vision, yeah, it kinda sucks, but mostly…no.” Sam must have looked confused or disbelieving, because she continued to explain. “Sam, look at it this way. We're not exactly superheroes, you and me. I mean, I don't know about you, but I was never very good at keeping up the good fight. But with this…we have a way to help. Something all our own, that no one else has.” She smiled. “It'll help you through the rough patches. And there'll be plenty of those.”

XXX

Meanwhile, In The Cemetery

“Where are they?” Buffy muttered for the umpteenth time, her wooden stake raised to shoulder height. “The vamps are usually like flies to a corpse around here.”

“Loving the comparison,” Angel said, lightly brushing a finger across an angel on a gravestone.

Buffy ignored his words. “Think they've started clearing the bodies yet?”

“I don't smell anything. They may have finished already. But we'll be at the front entrance soon, so you can take a look.”

“She who spends her spare time examining stiffs,” Buffy said with a sigh. “What a great non-paying job to have.”

“Well, Buffy, saving thousands of lives sometimes requires sacrifices,” Angel snapped. He didn't know why, but he was just starting to get fed up. “And it's not like no one has your back. You're not alone. Stop acting like you are.”

Buffy stopped, hand falling to her side. “What is with you?” she demanded. “It's like every little thing sets you off lately!”

Angel sighed. “I know. And I'm sorry for the way I've said some things. But I haven't said one thing that isn't true.”

“Listen, I know I have a lot to be grateful for, Angel. I do. But you have no idea what I've been through. You can't.”

“So tell me. Let me in, Buffy. Like you used to.”

She looked both angry and sad. “I thought you said things have changed.”

“They have. But that doesn't mean I won't listen.”

Buffy looked down for a moment, then met his gaze almost defiantly. “Look, it's nothing you need to know, okay? Just…I can't be all hugs-and-puppies, `the world is a happy butterfly' all the time. I can't keep painting a pretty face over all the bad. If that's not a good enough explanation for my moods…well, I'm sorry.”

Angel looked away and didn't say anything, and Buffy sighed. “Look, can we just patrol and not have any more deep conversation? I don't wanna get into it with you again.”

“Well, we need to know where the vampires are if we're going to kill them,” Angel pointed out.

“You're not gonna find anyone.”

Angel jumped a little, but Buffy just turned toward the shadows around a nearby crypt and murmured coolly, “Where have you been, Spike?”

A grunt issued forth from said shadows, and a tall platinum-blond man in a long black leather coat stepped out into the light. “You worried about me, Slayer?”

“Spike,” Angel said curtly, drawing the other vampires, attention. “How are you doing? Still neutered?”

Spike frowned deeply. “It's a chip implanted by an evil government branch, Liam. I am not neutered,” he snapped, and then turned to Buffy. “What is he doing here?”

“He's helping is out. Something you could have done, instead of just up and disappearing on us,” Buffy snapped. “Where were you?”

Spike shrugged. “I don't answer to you and your lackeys, Slayer. And for your information, I was working the underground. That's where all your bads are. Not in the cemetery.”

“You mean…there aren't any up above?” Buffy asked, confused. “But that doesn't make any sense…”

“Sure it does. Something's scared `em, is all it means. Something big is coming or here or—”

“Or already gone and some are just too afraid to come back to the surface,” Angel said pointedly.

For all the attention Spike gave him, Angel might as well not have been there. “Tell me what's happening,” he said to Buffy instead, who put her stake away and sighed.

“Fine, but I need to look in at home. Come on, I'll tell you on the way back.”

Angel scowled. Spike smirked.

XXX

Willow was watching Dean polish off the last of the food she'd made when Buffy's doorbell rang. She glanced at Giles' watch and frowned, puzzled. “Who'd be coming here now? It's like eleven at night.”

“Hey, do you think we're ever gonna get back on a normal sleep schedule?” Tara asked idly as Willow went to see who it was.

The redhead approached the door cautiously—you don't live long on a Hellmouth without being a little suspicious of everything. As her hand reached for the doorknob, she eyed the weapons chest nearby. She couldn't do much with a broken arm, but she was sure she would be able to hold off an attacker long enough for someone else to get there…

XXX

“I hate this place,” Hiei muttered sullenly, his eyes passing over the streets and shops and moving to the black, smog-covered sky over Sunnydale.

“Oh, Hiei, it's not so bad,” Kurama said, feeling that he should defend the home of his new friends even though his heart wasn't in the words.

“I spent ten years hiding out in an eight-by-five cave in the middle of nowhere in Makai. This is worse,” Hiei insisted stubbornly.

“Well, we'll be able to go back to Tokyo soon.” Home…

“Not soon enough,” Hiei complained. “It wouldn't be soon enough if we left in the next minute.”

“I know. But I have to wait for Koenma's orders,” Kurama said unhappily. “I mean, you could go home if you—”

Hiei's withering glare cut him off mid-sentence, and he felt no urge to finish it.

“Well, anyway, just try to deal with it a little longer, love.”

“I don't really have a choice.”

Kurama smiled and put a hand on Hiei's shoulder, squeezing gently, and they walked in silence for a while, by some unspoken consent heading back to Buffy's house.

“Kurama, do you think they're up yet?” Hiei asked suddenly.

“I don't know. They were pretty exhausted. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Hiei replied vaguely. “They're gonna ask about you, you know.”

Kurama grimaced. “I know.”

“What will you tell them?”

Kurama shrugged. “The truth, I guess. I mean, I did already tell them everything about my past.”

“Yes, but to humans, seeing and hearing are different things. It will probably matter more now.”

“But you're overlooking how much has happened to them in the last day. Still, I guess we won't know until we get back,” he said as they turned onto Buffy's street.

“You know, I've memorized the entire layout of this town in the last two days,” Hiei said morosely.

“Yes, it is a small place, isn't it?” Kurama replied, picking up Hiei's meaning with ease.

“Small,” Hiei scoffed. “The whole thing could fit in your kitchen back in Tokyo.”

“You're probably right,” Kurama said with a chuckle as Buffy's house came into view. “And it's so quiet, too. I'd almost forgotten…but I would enjoy it so much more if the plants could only grow better.”

Now, Hiei would rather die than admit it—actually, Hiei would rather die than to a lot of things—but he had gotten used to the noise and bustle of big cities. A part of him had even grown to like it. You could lose yourself in cities, and sometimes, Hiei Jaganshi needed that. Right now, everything was too open, and it felt…dangerous.

Of course, he couldn't say any of that. So he just didn't say anything. But Kurama understood, and Hiei knew it, so the words didn't matter anyway.

The porch light was on when the two of them got to the house, which was odd, because it had been off when they left. Kurama didn't think too much on it, though—what did it matter, really?

No one met him in the hall, and the kitchen was completely empty. A little confused now, Kurama and Hiei headed for the living room, the only other place anyone could be besides the bedrooms or the basement. Hearing voices—very, very familiar voices—they both bolted the rest of the way and halted in the doorway.

Willow, Giles, and Tara were sitting on the couch, with Dean cross-legged on the floor at their feet. The two armchairs were taken by two young men, both of who looked worn and tired, but relieved. They both looked up, and smiles crossed their faces at almost exactly the same time.

Kurama looked from Yusuke Urameshi, to Kazuma Kuwabara, and gave an identical smile, then ran to embrace his friends,

So home must be right around the corner…

XXX

“So it's all taken care of?” Spike asked. “Problem solved?”

“Yep. Bad guy go boom,” Buffy assured him. “It was an…interesting fight, too.”

“And the kid?”

“Well, first of all, `the kid' is older than I am and about a foot taller than you are. Not actually a kid. And secondly, Sam is fine. Well, as far as I could tell. He's been sleeping since seven this morning. But he seemed all right. I think his brother's a little freaked, though.”

“And for good reason,” Angel added.

“Yeah. They seem really close. Even for brothers,” Buffy said, remembering the way Dean had looked at Sam after that nightmare. “But I think they'll be okay.”

“I'd like to mean this Dean guy,” Spike said.

“He's not your type,” Angel said flatly.

“Well, I dunno. From Buffy's description…”

“You know what? Just…stop talking, both of you,” Buffy said impatiently as she went up the porch steps to her house. “And try not to look at each other,” she added as she fitted her key into the lock.

Spike shrugged. “Whatever. I'm out of here, anyway.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door. “What a baby,” she muttered, going inside. “Where is everybody?” she called, tossing her keys on the table by the door. “Answer, please!'

“Living room!” Willow's voice called. “And we have more people.”

Buffy tried not to sigh too loudly. “Who?” she asked as she walked into the living room with Angel on her heels. “Oh, hey, Dean. Have a good nap? Or…uh…coma?”

Dean just nodded, and Buffy covered up the awkward moment by turning to the two new guys and saying, “Hello. Welcome to the fort. I'm Buffy Summers.”

The one nearest to the door stood up and said with a smile, “We're sorry for just barging in like this. I'm Urameshi Yusuke. Uh…switch them and you have the American version.”

“And I'm Kazuma Kuwabara,” the other guy added.

“We're here for the other two guys on the team,” Yusuke added with an impish grin. “We're thinking it's about time for them to come home, now that the job is done.”

“And let me be first to voice my agreement,” Kurama spike up. “Hiei would be the second except that he doesn't want to talk.”

Buffy smiled. “That's good. I'm happy for you. When do you all leave?”

Kurama shrugged. “Well, Yusuke and Kuwabara have a motel room down the road, so we'll stay with them tonight. I'd like to talk to Sam before we go.”

“Well, that part depends on if Sam ever comes out of that room,” Dean said grumpily. “He's been in there forever! What could they possibly be talking about?”

“Y'know, big brother, you may want to watch that tone or I'll begin to think you're accusing me of something.”

Dean jumped a little and looked over to the door, where Sam stood with Cordelia. “God, Sam, don't do that!” he snapped, but even as he said it a smile threatened to break his face in half.

“But it's so much fun,” Sam said with an identical grin. “Hi, Yusuke. Kuwabara. It's great to see you both!”

“You're…in a good mood,” Dean said, looking a little disturbed.

“Yeah, I think I am,” Sam agreed, going over to sit next to his brother.

“How's your headache?”

Sam's grin widened. “Gone since I woke up in the hospital. I'd forgotten how good it feels not to be in pain!”

“Well, congratulations on that,” Tara said.

“Where's Cordelia?” Angel asked.

“In the kitchen, getting a snack. She told me to send you in,” Sam replied.

“So…um…what did you two talk about?” Dean asked as Angel left the room. “While you were locked in that bedroom for like three hours?”

Sam just looked mysterious. “Sorry, bro, I'm keeping that one to myself.”

Oddly enough, Dean seemed fine with that. “That's what you said after the Bloody Mary job.”

“Bloody Mary?” Buffy gaped. “The chick in the mirror? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We ran into her a few months back. Sam was keeping a secret from me them, too. But he ended up telling me and it's only a matter of time until he spills about this one,” Dean said confidently.

“Whatever. Just tell me about Bloody Mary,” Buffy pressed. “She's real?”

“You bet. And so are Women in White, Wendigos, poltergeists, ghosts, shapeshifters—there's a whole world out there beyond demons. And we could tell you some stories…but I need a question answered right now. I never got to ask last night and I forgot about it until just now.” He looked hard at Buffy, then Willow, Tara, and Giles. “Which one of you paid Sam's hospital bill?” And then, as an afterthought, “And Kurama…what the hell was that, back in the cemetery?”

XXX

Cordelia was sitting at the kitchen table, dripping tea into a cup from a bag. Angel stood by the counter for a moment, watching her, looking for any hint of what was on her mind.

He came up with nothing. She seemed perfectly fine.

“Cordelia?”

“You can't wait to go home, can you?”

Angel didn't feel the shock he should have—only confusion. This was what she wanted to talk about?

“Am I that obvious?” he asked, going over to sit next to her.

“Only to someone who pays attention. Ergo—to set your mind at ease—I don't think Buffy noticed how much you don't like being here.”

Angel sighed and looked down at his hands. “I don't know why. I mean, this place—it holds some of my best memories. I used to love being here. Even that time I came in secret and Buffy didn't see me—it was good, you know? But now it just hurts, and I can't figure out why.”

Cordelia smiled. “Well, maybe it's because you're actually interacting with her. Closely. You're doing exactly what you used to do with her, only now you're not…together, together. It's just a little weird for you, I think.”

“Why are you so wise all of a sudden?” Angel asked a little grouchily. Cordelia smiled at him, and he sighed again. “But maybe you're right. I can't say for sure—I don't know myself that well.”

“Only because you're emotionally stunted.”

Angel chuckled softly. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But we'll be leaving soon anyway. Just try and get through this one night.”

“Mm-hmm…so what did you and Sam talk about?” Angel asked suddenly, changing the subject.

Cordelia took a sip of her tea and said, “Oh, just about our visions. Stories, mostly.”

“What was it like?” Angel asked, suddenly curious.

Cordelia shrugged. “A little weird, I guess. But…interesting. And it was nice to get a different perspective on things.”

“Well, talking to you…it seems to have helped,” Angel commented, listening to the murmur of voices in the living room. “I mean, I didn't know him before this whole debacle, but Dean seemed surprised at his mood when he came in, so it must be unusual…”

“Yeah. He seemed to open up a lot, when we were talking,” Cordelia said, getting to her feet and going to the doorway of the living room.

“He seems pretty happy,” Angel said with a small smile. “You know, I always admired the way you could—”

“He's really screwed up,” Cordelia interrupted, eyes on Sam as he listened with rapt attention to some story or other that Kurama was telling.

“What?” Angel asked. “What do you mean?”

“He's really screwed up,” Cordelia repeated. “Him and Dean. Angel, Sam and I didn't only talk about having the visions or what they were like. We talked a lot about what we thought about them. Me, I didn't have anything interesting to say about it, but Sam—he got really confessional. He told me about his first visions, about how they freaked him out, and—about how he's been finding it hard to separate himself from all the things he's hunted.” She sighed heavily. “I mean, he said it's just sometimes. When he's depressed or sad or just at random moments for no apparent reason. And it's just for a minute, but…it does happen. And he doesn't know what to do about it.”

Cordelia turned back to the living room to watch, unnoticed. “They're crashing, Angel. There's no one to help them, no one to watch over them. They have no one to support them. They don't think they need anyone, but…that little family is crashing, and eventually they're going to crumble.”

She felt a sad smile come to her face as Sam suddenly threw his head back and laughed at something his brother said.

“They don't know it, but they're both in for a lot of heartbreak. I just hope that…someone is there to pick up the pieces.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

So, what do you think? Do I suck? Are there gonna be pitchforks and torches and the like? Or will there be a flood of nice, happy reviews coming my way? Well, either way, I know what's coming to you—an epilogue! Which is already written and should be up in a couple of hours.

recorded voice Any complaints, comments, issues, grumblings, problems, compliments, questions, or requests should be sent immediately to the authoress via a review.

normal voice I know there will be many of the above—or I hope so, anyway. Please review!

- - - - - - - - - - -

“For I dipp'd into the future,

Far as human eye could see,

Saw a Vision of the world,

And all the wonder that would be.”

—Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Locksley Hall

“A miracle is not the suspension of a natural law, but the operation of a higher law.” -Unknown

“We don't know who we are until we see what we can do.” -Jace22

“Evil is always possible. Goodness is a difficulty.”--Anne Rice

“In the end we are alone and there is nothing but the cold dark wasteland of eternity.” --Anne Rice