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When the Night Merges

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Summary: It was always about the plan when it came down to the yellow eye demon. Who was needed and who was expendable. What the demon failed to realize was he made three mistakes. Now the paths of the hunters and the slayer will cross.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Dean WinchesterLadyHealerFR1827,5722223,2771 Sep 085 Jun 13No

Prologue: Mistake Number Two

When the Night Merges

Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Supernatural. As a head up there is one quote from one of the later episodes from Buffy season seven. The story itself was inspired by Tanydwr’s “Slaying: Winchester Style” fanart.

Author Notes: Updated as of 12/3/2013. I would like to thank Woman of Letters for being my Beta and editor for this chapter. You have been amazing and I deeply appreciate all your help.

Prologue: Mistake Number Two

Dawn turned on her side in the master bedroom before she sighed and stared at the ceiling. She had been trying to sleep for last three hours and she had yet to fall into a doze. It was strange sleeping in a house that lacked the constant bustle of newly-active slayers, but her high school history teacher had asked her to watch over his son while he and his wife went to a business meeting this weekend. She didn’t have the heart to say no; besides, the boy’s uncle would be over Saturday morning to take over, so really, she would be watching the tike for one night. Buffy had firmly told her that it would be her sole responsibility and not to expect saving this time from the dangers of an overtired, cranking infant. As if she couldn’t handle a little baby.

It had been roughly one year since they had defeated the First and had moved to Cleveland, Ohio. Things were a little tense between the members of the Scooby gang for a while. She was sure Buffy was still sore about being booted from her own home, but what did she expect? Just going back into a death trap was stupid. Buffy wasn’t being a team player. And ok, she was right in the end, but it still wasn’t their fault. Was it?

Dawn sat up and dropped her face into her hands. Truth was, she wasn’t sure that it wasn’t their fault. This past year she had been getting more and more responsibilities placed on her shoulders and she was starting to see where Buffy was coming from. Looking back, she realized that Buffy was always expected to uphold all these duties and when she couldn’t, the Scoobies got disappointed and blamed her. But Buffy was human; why wasn't she given the leeway the rest of the gang was given? Why was she held at a higher standard? The answer: because she was the slayer.

Dawn rubbed the scar on her upper right shoulder that she had gotten from a vampire fight three months ago. She had been leading a group of newbie slayers on a routine patrol. She wasn’t supposed to, but she had caved to peer-pressure. In the end, she had got three of the five slayers killed. She and the other two slayers would have died, too, if Faith and Buffy hadn’t gotten there when they did. But that event had opened her eyes to what Buffy felt during the war. She carried the weight of the responsibility for other people on her shoulders, but she also had the additional burden of having to defeat the enemy. And hey, if something went wrong, well, it was her fault.

Buffy may have walked into a couple of traps, but her instincts, in the end, were right.

Dawn turned her head towards the baby monitor when she heard the cries. “And the baby calls.” She got up and walked down the hallway, frowning as the nightlight in the hall flickered for several seconds. She opened the door to baby David’s room and her eyes widened in shock before glaring at the figure bending over the crib. She glanced briefly around the room, mentally cursing the fact that she had no weapon. No one was invited in so it couldn’t be a vampire. That was a bonus, right? “Get away from him, you creep!” she yelled. The person turned to face her and her gaze locked onto his yellow eyes before she was slammed into the wall by an invisible force. Dawn looked past the yellow-eyed man to the crying infant in concern. She shoved against the wall, desperately hoping to free herself from it in time to prevent this monster from touching David. It didn’t work. Gritting her teeth in frustration and anger, she strained her muscles, trying to yank her arms away, and failed. What would this monster do to David, she wondered frantically as she continued to struggle against the force that held her. God, she wished Buffy was here. She would totally kick this thing's ass.

The thing smiled as she slid up the wall and onto the ceiling. She was going to die. And as the pain flared across her stomach she remembered what Anya told Buffy a year ago.

"We don’t know if you’re actually better. I mean, you came into the world with certain advantages, sure. I mean that’s the legacy. But you didn’t earn it. You didn’t work for it. You’ve never had anybody come up to you and say that you deserve these things… more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So that doesn’t make you better than us. It makes you luckier than us."

Anya had been wrong.

Was it luckier to be destined to die fighting the evil of the world? Was it luckier to get your choice of what you wanted to do with your life ripped away?

Yes, Buffy had made mistakes. Yes, she had made bad decisions. But Buffy had bled to keep everyone safe. She had to face their anger and disappointment. She had to bottle her emotions away so she could do the ‘right’ thing when anyone else would have said, "To hell with that!" She had died twice for the fight. Did that count for nothing? And still, she hid the pain behind a mask. Mostly.

A tear fell from Dawn's eyes. Fire began to build around her and the pain was blinding. Dawn glanced down as she heard someone yelling her name and met the horrified gaze of her sister. She must have seen the fire when she was patrolling. As darkness seeped through her vision, obscuring her sight of Buffy, Dawn wished she could have told her that she was sorry for not understanding sooner.
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