Chapter Twelve

Once Faith had realised that Sam Winchester was not about to let her go off on her own, they’d borrowed Buffy’s car and driven back to the shopping mall on Massachusetts Drive. As expected at this hour of night, all the stores were closed but they managed to drive into the underground parking lot beneath the mall where they’d found the Impala waiting impatiently for Dean to return.

The fact that the Impala was languishing in a public lot like this, where it could be towed away or subject to the ministrations of a car thief was proof enough for Sam that Dean and Buffy were in trouble. There was no way in hell Dean would leave his car alone like this without good reason. That and the fact that neither he nor Faith had been able to reach the duo cells proved that some was very wrong.

“Your bro’s got a nice ride Sammy,” Faith complimented as she ran her palm across the smooth finish of the Impala’s paintwork.

“She’s Dean’s baby,” Sam remarked as he used a Slim Jim made from a metal ruler to open the driver’s side door. Once inside, he could use the spare set of keys that Dean had stashed beneath the driver’s seat in case of emergencies. Not that Sam planned to drive the Impala anywhere just. At this moment, he was only interested in getting to the trunk of the vehicle to grab some weapons.

“It was our dad’s car,” Sam continued to explain. “Dad gave it to Dean on when he turned sixteen. It’s probably the closest he’s gotten to having a long term relationship. He’d stroke out if anything happened to it.”

In truth, Sam would be similarly upset if anything happened to Impala. However, unlike Dean, Sam wasn’t as biased to the vehicle’s flaws as his brother. As far as Sam was concerned, the thing had some serious miles on it and was lousy on gas, however, Fate decreed any car owned by a Winchester that wasn’t the Impala was destined to be destroyed in some freak accident.

“That close huh?” Faith chuckled sensing some ire in Sam’s voice but she was on big brother’s side on this one. Faith who liked good ol’ fashioned American shared the older Winchester’s love for the automobile. It was a muscle car that had been kept in cherry condition, reminding her a great deal of the T-Bird that was the ride of a choice for a certain vampire with a soul who had been her mentor and friend. “I can relate.”

When the car lock popped up with a muted click on the other side of the window, Sam immediately reached for the handle and opened to the door climb into the front seat. Searching beneath the leather seat, it took but a few seconds for his fingers to feel the key that had been fastened in place there. Once he had it, Sam emerged from the vehicle and looked across the roof of the car at Faith who was waiting almost as impatient as the abandoned car. Like his brother, Faith was ready to dive in and find Buffy and Dean. Sam suspected that it was part of her make up to stake first and ask questions later.

Sam headed towards the trunk of the car and glanced as she joined him there. Before he opened the trunk, he stared at her, “Okay assuming they’re in trouble and not somewhere getting up close and personal, we get answers first and foremost right?”

“Of course,” Faith replied coyly, wearing an expression of complete innocence that she had ever intended anything else. “Can I at least break a few of the antique store guy’s bones before I make him talk?” She batted her lashes at Sam, wearing a smirk on her lips.

“Uh no,” Sam rolled his eyes, “it’s been my experience that people tend to get pissed and uncooperative when you start breaking bones. Let’s try talking to him first and if he jerks us around, then you can break something.” Sam preferred more civilised methods of extracting information but he wasn’t freaking Ghandi either.

“Ooh Sammy,” Faith winked at him, “you just know how to get to a girl right here.” She thumped her chest once.

Still finding it odd that he didn’t mind her calling him Sammy, Sam lifted the trunk door and revealed the arsenal stashed there. The load had lightened considerably since Dean mounted some of the weapons on the walls of his room at the Bat Cave…Sam rolled his eyes, unable to believe they had taken to calling the place that….but it was still an impressive cache. There were shotguns, flare guns, tasers, crossbows and various types of knives, not to mention iron bars, bags of salt and hex bags. Everything the modern hunter needed to battle whatever evil that crept his way.

“Oh…my… Sammy,” Faith purred as she leaned in closer to examine the weapons arrayed before her. Giles had gave her the skinny about these ‘hunters’ that Buffy had stumbled across and Faith had assumed, these were amateurs trying to play at demon slayers. However, seeing what was in the trunk of the Impala, Faith had to admit these guys might know their stuff. “I think you’ve just made all my girl parts quiver. Very nice.”

“Uh yeah we try to prepare for everything,” Sam managed to answer after clearing his throat.

Nor not the first time that evening, Sam told himself that the girl was merely flirting and not really interested in him. She probably treated all the men she met this way. However, Sam couldn’t deny that he was becoming more and more attracted to Faith. Even though right now was the worst possible time he could have chosen to be interested in anyone. Unfortunately, he knew his weakness for strong, self-assured women. Jess, Madison, Ruby and the latest being Amelia. Still Faith seemed to be in a class all by herself.

Forcing himself to stay on point, he added, “the problem is, we don’t know what we’re facing.”

“We can't dwell on it Sammy, B and D don’t have that much time for us to figure it out. Just grab what makes the biggest splat and let’s go. Time’s a wasting.”

She was right; Sam decided. They had to move and now.

Sam couldn’t be preoccupied with the guilt trip he was secretly nursing unbeknownst to Faith. He kept thinking he should have been there with Dean and was convinced that Dean had tried to go easy on him by partnering with Buffy. For once, being attracted to the girl was not the sole reason Dean had chosen to ditch him. As it was, Sam was still blaming himself for not searching for Dean after his brother had vanished a year ago following the defeat of Dick Roman. He'd given Dean up for dead moved on, giving up the hunt and leaving friends and family to fend for themselves.

It seemed that no matter what he did, he’d always be the guy that let people down.

*****

When they finally reached it, the antique store was already closed. Sam had expected it since it was past trading hours and the mall was locked up for the night. Fortunately, Sam had enough experience with picking the locks on the security gate to gain access to the building. Staring through the glass façade that made up the frontage of the store, there was no sign of life in the darkened premises save for a candle that sat on one of the shelves. It had been left burning and Sam guessed it was some form of mystical protection. Other than that, there was no movement to indicate anyone was there, not even a crack of light from the back room where the owner might retreat to manage the day’s takings.

This was not going to stop either of them from investigating further. As far as Sam was concerned; if the Impala was still here then so were Buffy and Dean. They had just to be found.

"We need to get in there," Sam declared, moving to the front door while clutching the backpack filled with everything needed to deal with this menace whatever it was.

"I’m hip to that,” Faith agreed readily. “You find a shady spot to hide your face while I take out that security cameras there.” She gestured to the device that was mounted on the wall two stores further along the row of shops. "I’m guessing that places like this will only play back the footage if someone gets broken into. Still, I don’t want the rent-a-cops catching sight of us."

Sam was on board with that but had an addendum to make regarding her instruction. “You get the camera and I’ll get the door and make sure we don't trip any mystical alarms or wards that might give us away when we go in.”

Damn, he knew his stuff, Faith thought quietly. “Five by five,” she winked at him before heading off.

Turning his back to her, Sam went to work on the lock. It wasn’t terrible complicated and once through, he made sure he severed the wires linking the door to the alarm so he and Faith didn’t trip in entering the premises. Once through, he scanned the immediate area and saw a couple of objects that could be used as protective and warding spells. The candle Sam had seen earlier was red and surrounded by herbs, possibly Asafoetida or Hawthorne. Its counter was simple enough; a shield spell that would allow him to disable the ward.

“Infinitarius naturae prodire, scutum prep veneficium abl terci….” “Sam chanted the words and the candle immediately extinguished. He spent the next two minutes neutralising the other wards in the place before it was safe enough to proceed further. Once he was done, he peered through the door to see where Faith had gone.

“Faith!" Sam hissed when he didn’t see her.

“Relax Sammy,” she revealed herself a second later, having hidden perfectly within the shadows of the deepened doorway of an amenities room further along the walkway. “I’m here.”

“I’ve taken care of the spells,” he explained as he held open the door for her.

Faith darted in quickly and Sam followed, closing the door behind him and giving one last scan of the area to ensure no one had seen them enter. They moved deeper into the store, until the light from the outside diminished to the point where they were in near pitch black darkness.

“Wait a second,” he said quietly and fumbled through his backpack. A second later and he thrust the cool metal of a flashlight in her hand and took one for himself.

“Boy scout much?” Faith teased as she flicked on the torch.

“I like to be prepared,” Sam shrugged in the darkness. Sam was used to doing the prep work when he and Dean were on the hunt. “Come on,” he gestured past the counter to the meandering aisles that ran like a maze through the store.

"God I hate these places," Faith complained as she frowned distastefully at the creepy dolls and dust collecting figurines and statues. “It’s like having a giant garage sale for all kinds of evil junk. You just know every time someone gets their face burnt off or throat slashed is because they bought some ugly ass piece of crap that came from a place like this."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at her for a second. The words could have come from Dean, he thought. Then again, thinking that the girl he was seriously attracted to, had a lot of his brother’s characteristics was just plain traumatizing. Like reading that Wincest stuff on the Carver Edlund’s fan site didn’t do that already.

"Yeah that seems to be the pattern,” Sam couldn’t deny that statement. “It’s a pity that we can’t tell people that old and vintaged can also mean cursed object and fatal.” He pause a moment and swept the torch over the space in front of him. “Okay, Buffy and I saw the cube just up ahead.” He told her.

"You really think that this is the big bad?" Faith asked aware that there was still some uncertainty on this point.

"It’s the only thing that seems to connect us,” Sam answered. “It would explain the only thing that seems to connect. Besides, if there is even the slightest chance that this is the thing and we can save any more people from getting hurt, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Huh,” Faith remarked, the flashlight beam resting on his face as she stared at him. Those words were so familiar that if the light hadn’t been on his face, she would have thought someone else had said them. Someone she loved and had been unable to save.

“What?” Sam blinked, wondering why she was holding the torch on him light that.

“Nothing,” Faith said lowering the beam and smiling to herself in the dark. If he had been able to see, he would have found that the smile was nothing like seductive smirks she'd tossed his way since they'd met. This smile was subtle and meaningful. "You just kind of remind me of someone."

From her tone, Sam guessed right away it was someone no longer living. "Is that a good thing?" He asked gently.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded, feeling moisture in her eyes that was so not her. She didn’t get doe eyed and misty like B, she was made of stronger stuff than that or so Faith often told herself that. “It’s a good thing, he was a good guy.”

“Was. “He’d called it right. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. Sam had a feeling that Faith didn’t care for people lightly and whomever this person was she lost, the cut had been deep and possibly still open.

"Me too," she said shaking off the moment, not wanting to dwell when they had a job to do.

Sam nodded and continued searching. Scouring the shelves, he tried to remember exactly where he had seen it. Not an easy thing to do even with the torch and he was conscious that they might be seen by mall security. The last thing Sam needed was to be hauled in by the cops. After the whole leviathan mess, he wasn't entirely sure if he and Dean were still wanted and had no desire to find out first hand.

Whether or not Sam knew it, Faith was already doing just that very thing. She was keeping a vigil not just for mall security but for the mysterious owner of this store. While the store may appear empty, she was not about to drop her guard and get waylaid by the guy if he was capable of taking out B and Sam’s apparently capable brother Dean. Faith didn’t say it out loud but the man's absence unsettled her. It meant that he could be somewhere with Buffy and Dean, doing God only knew what to them.

Suddenly, Sam stopped so suddenly that Faith bumped into him. Damn, he was a solid, Faith thought pulling away from him. “What’s up?”

Sam stared at a shelf, greeted by an outline of dust where the cube had been. He checked the area where they were standing to confirm that he was in the right place. With a sinking feeling, Sam knew he was. “It’s gone,” he exclaimed, disappointment exuding from each word.

"Are you sure this is right place?" Faith asked.

"I'm sure it is," Sam declared firmly. "This is it."' The frustration in his voice spoke volumes to his fear about this meant for Buffy and Dean.

“Hey,” she touched his arm, “we’ll find it okay? We’ll find it and then we’ll fine B and your bro. If the cube isn’t here and neither is the guy, then I say we check out his office and find out where he hangs his hat at night. Then we can pay him a little house call.”

“Right,” Sam nodded and was actually inclined to let Faith break as many bones as she liked to find out what had happened to Dean and Buffy.

*****

“Watch out!” Buffy shouted.

The ghoul came at Dean with arms outstretched, inadvertently pushing him backwards. Dean landed hard, uttering a groan of pain as he hit the stone surface with his ass, the shockwave sending pain up his spine to the rest of his body. The walking corpse, with its pale skin and gunky teeth gnashing with anticipation, rushed to reach him before he could get up. Planning on being no one’s meal, Dean recovered quickly, tilting his body and smashing the ball of his foot against the ghoul’s belly to gain him a few precious seconds.

The strategy worked with the creature tumbling a few steps back. Taking advantage of the ghoul’s momentary distraction, Dean retrieved the blade that had fallen out of his hands when the creature first attacked. He’d fashioned a make shift hilt out of a ripped section of his shirt so he could handle it like a sword. Wrapping his hand around the hilt, Dean jumped to his feet by the time the ghoul renewed its attack. Ready for it this time, Dean swung the blade in a neat arm, slicing through the monster’s neck and decapitating with one powerful blow.

Black blood splattered over his already ruined shirt. Wiping a smattering of it from his face, he barely had time to recoup when another ghoul ambushed him from behind. The instant Dean felt the cold flesh on his shoulder, he reacted instinctively, grabbing its bony arm and using his momentum to flip it onto its back. The creature growled in outrage when it slammed against the floor in front of Dean. Once again, Dean acted swiftly, hacking at the monster repeatedly, until the body beneath him was a grisly pile of gore and black ooze.

Another kill accomplished, Dean raised his head to see how Buffy was faring. He found her engaged in combat with her own ghoul, displaying the same savage ferocity that he felt when he'd been fighting. Strewn around her were the remnants of other ghouls she already killed. As she fought, Dean couldn’t help but feeling the familiar awe of watching her fight, watching as she took on one ghoul after another, a perfect engine of coordination dressed up in a cute blond package.

She wielded the blade like a sword and she did it with far more artistry than he. Buffy maintained perfect control of her weapon, dropping to a knee to stab the creature in front of her through the belly, before retracting and delivering a high kick that caught it on the chin. While it reeled from the blow, she landed on both feet and swung her body around like a dancer performing a pirouette cleaving the thing in half across the sternum. The monster’s arms went limp and fell apart like wet meat, each part squelching sickly when they landed.

With the last ghoul dispatched for now, Dean found himself relaxing a little until the next onslaught came upon them. The mystery of how these creatures were finding their way to Buffy and Dean was solved after they’d seen how the ghouls had arrived. They had come from the same place as the little girl. From the walls. They stepped out of the walls like they were stepping out from behind the curtain and Dean had no doubt that as long as they were here, that’s how the God of the Razor Realm would be sending his monsters after them.

“This is the last time I let you pick where we go on a date,” Dean joked as he wiped away a glob of something wet he had no wish to identify from his face with his sleeve.

Buffy looked own at herself and groaned with disgust. She was similarly filthy and knew that when they got back to the world, she’d be showering for a week to get rid of the stench. Lowering the blade, she took in the sight of him, covered in blood and viscera and let out an exasperated groan. “Is it possible for the two of us to go anywhere together without something or someone dying? What is that?”

“Foreplay?” Dean said cockily, a leer on his face.

It was ridiculous. Being here was no laughing matter and he ought to be scared shitless but he wasn’t. He's spent a year in Purgatory, fighting and killing everything in sight to stay alive that upon returning to the world, he had no idea what normal anymore and yet right now, at this moment, he was enjoyng it. In Purgatory, there had been a purity in the hunting of monsters. There was no doubt or hesitation as to what needed to be done. No shades of grey, no deals or unexpected consequences, just the fight. Dean had found it simpler and now in this place which was so much like Purgatory, he felt invigorated because he was ready for anything it could throw at him.

“Oh my God,” her eyes became wide as saucers as she saw the almost gleeful look on his face. “You’re enjoying this!” She pointed an accusing finger at him, her mouth agape in astonishment.

“Of course not,” Dean feigned ignorance and stared back her like she was crazy when in actual truth, she’d hit the nail right on the head. “In this place, are you nuts?”

“I am not!” Buffy declared, incredulous. “You are enjoying this! You like mayhem and violence!” She didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed that he was coping with this nightmare so well. Most civilians would have lost their minds by now but Dean looked as much in his element as she. She didn’t know whether she ought to be disturbed or not. What was worse, she shared a little of the euphoria he was feeling.

“I don’t like mayhem and violence,” he protested and then added, “but you got to admit that it’s kind of liberating getting into a fight where all you need to worry is ganking the monster.”

“You are insane!” She exclaimed exasperated as she retrieved her discarded handbag and started rifling through it. “You’re insane and I’m insane for lik….” She kept herself from finishing the sentence because she did not want to make his head any bigger than it already was.

“Insane for what?” He eyed her closely, guessing what she had almost said but couldn’t help not teasing her about it. “For liking me?”

Buffy shoved him and continued searching through her handbag even though it was a given that he was right. Worse yet, it was a rush being here with him because she didn't have to protect him or worry that he couldn't handle himself. Instead with Dean, they were fighting side by side, two warriors in their element engaged in a battle against incredible odds, watching each other's back. Trying not to blush because her body was attuned to his in such an intimate way, she met his gaze directly and declared, “Look we are getting out of here. I don’t want you going all Conan on me and wanting to stay here.”

"You mean the barbarian right? Not the talk show host?" He joked.

"Dean!" She burst out ready to strangle him.

Laughing at her reaction, he assured her in a more serious note because she did have valid concerns. “Counsellor, you have zero reason to worry about me going off the reservation. I want to get out of here as much as you do but I'm just saying that at least when we're killing monsters here, it’s all pure, you know? I mean haven’t you run into situations where it wasn’t always as simple as putting down the bad guy? That there are complications and consequences that make it hard to figure out what the right thing to do is? Here, there's none of that. Just kill or be killed.”

Buffy looked away guiltily because she did feel that. Over the years, she’d had experiences that changed the basic tenets of what she'd been taught and made it harder to slay indiscriminately. For starters, what Dean considered a demon and what Buffy did were two very different things. His demons were humans possessed by evil spirits that had biblical origins, not to mention some of them were full on freaking fallen angels. Meanwhile hers consisted of so many different varieties that it was hard to think of them spirits when they needed no vessel and had bodies of their own. Furthermore, they weren't all evil.

After reading John Winchester's diary, she had to ask the question if they were demons at all or were they merely members of different species originating from other dimensions. It would certainly make sense when one thought of demons like Clem, Lorne and Merl. Even Glory had come from another dimension. During her attempt to get home, she’d almost brought down the walls of reality, showing Buffy how many dimensions they were, dimensions with different types of beings that existed within the wider tapestry of creation.

“Okay maybe once or twice,” Buffy conceded the point but nothing else because right now, she wanted to do him against the wall because the after effects of a fight like this was heightened libido. Fortunately, she had more self control than Faith and concentrated on what she was searching for in her bag.

"Here," she handed him a moist towellette from the pack she had kept for emergencies purposes.

Dean took the wet wipe and stared at her with a brow raised. “You got wet wipes in your handbag?” He asked curiously and leaned forward, trying to peer into it to see what other stuff she might have “what else have you got in there?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she bit back at him, suspecting he had a way of 'handling' her that infuriated Buffy to no end. “We are in a life and death situation here. I don’t want you going all alpha male because you’re some kind of adrenaline junkie.”

Taking an experimental whiff of the wipe and after deciding it didn't smell too douchey, Dean cleaned off his face and responded to her statement. "I’m not some danger junkie okay? I just like good, straight up fights and I'm guessing you do too.” More than ever Dean recognised Buffy as a kindred spirit, who understood what they were built for even if the realisation wasn't always pleasant.

She couldn’t deny his words. Wiping as much of the blood as she could off her face, Buffy knew she missed the fight and worse yet, she missed the clean fights that he'd pointed out. It felt good to unleash the full force of her aggression, pent up for three years due to her 'normal' existence. Until she had come to this place and was forced to fight, Buffy didn’t realise how much she missed it and now wondered when they left this place, if she could live without it again.

Or live without fighting by Dean's side again.

TO BE CONTINUED