Claw His Way (Buffy/Dean)
Title: Claw His Way
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed One-Shot
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BtVS/SPN
Character(s) and/or Pairing(s): Buffy/Dean
Genre: Dark/Angst
Summary: Would he be able to claw his way back?
Challenge: Prompt #02 - Can’t stop to feel myself losing control. Table #2 = Darkness. Written for Would You Still Have Fallen Marathon over at Route 66: Destination Sunnydale
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 3 of Supernatural
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright of Eric Kripke and The CW. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Huge thanks to Kaye for helping me tweak this one and for beta’ing. Any mistakes are mine.
Would he be able to claw his way back?
Buffy wasn’t so sure.
Dark circles had taken permanent residence under his vacant eyes; the color having had drained from his face the moment he realized what he’d lost, leaving it a sickly pale. His cheeks were sunken and his skin was pulled taut over the bones. Death had taken one brother, she felt helpless as she now watched it loom over him too.
Dean hadn’t moved for days now. Hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t drunk more then two glasses of stale water from the well out back. He just sat there, on that wooden stool and stared. His eyes pleaded, begging the corpse to pull a Lazareth and rise.
Silently she pushed herself off the door jam and dragged a stool next to his. With slow movements Buffy blindly reached out and grasped his large calloused hand. Her fingers intertwined with his cold, clammy hand and she pressed their palms together.
Dean was grieving. If he needed to stand over and protect Sam, like he always had, then she’d stand by his side. When he was ready, she’d fight back the darkness for him. She’d be the one to claw them back.
Fingers tightened around hers and her heart responded by pounding loudly in her chest. She stifled a sigh of relief, bit her lower lip and focused on keeping her breathing steady.
Buffy was afraid to let him know how much his stoic silence was scaring her. Scared to remind him that she knew what it was like to fall into a catatonic depression after her own sibling had been taken away from her. This was Dean and if he even caught a scent of her own fear and worries he’d shove his hurt and pain behind a mask of confidence and move on, like he had when John had died. She couldn’t stand the idea of being the reason he’d grieve alone, so she kept her body still, refusing to allow her inner turmoil to be seen.
~fin~
Completed: August 24, 2008
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed One-Shot
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BtVS/SPN
Character(s) and/or Pairing(s): Buffy/Dean
Genre: Dark/Angst
Summary: Would he be able to claw his way back?
Challenge: Prompt #02 - Can’t stop to feel myself losing control. Table #2 = Darkness. Written for Would You Still Have Fallen Marathon over at Route 66: Destination Sunnydale
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 3 of Supernatural
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright of Eric Kripke and The CW. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Huge thanks to Kaye for helping me tweak this one and for beta’ing. Any mistakes are mine.
Would he be able to claw his way back?
Buffy wasn’t so sure.
Dark circles had taken permanent residence under his vacant eyes; the color having had drained from his face the moment he realized what he’d lost, leaving it a sickly pale. His cheeks were sunken and his skin was pulled taut over the bones. Death had taken one brother, she felt helpless as she now watched it loom over him too.
Dean hadn’t moved for days now. Hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t drunk more then two glasses of stale water from the well out back. He just sat there, on that wooden stool and stared. His eyes pleaded, begging the corpse to pull a Lazareth and rise.
Silently she pushed herself off the door jam and dragged a stool next to his. With slow movements Buffy blindly reached out and grasped his large calloused hand. Her fingers intertwined with his cold, clammy hand and she pressed their palms together.
Dean was grieving. If he needed to stand over and protect Sam, like he always had, then she’d stand by his side. When he was ready, she’d fight back the darkness for him. She’d be the one to claw them back.
Fingers tightened around hers and her heart responded by pounding loudly in her chest. She stifled a sigh of relief, bit her lower lip and focused on keeping her breathing steady.
Buffy was afraid to let him know how much his stoic silence was scaring her. Scared to remind him that she knew what it was like to fall into a catatonic depression after her own sibling had been taken away from her. This was Dean and if he even caught a scent of her own fear and worries he’d shove his hurt and pain behind a mask of confidence and move on, like he had when John had died. She couldn’t stand the idea of being the reason he’d grieve alone, so she kept her body still, refusing to allow her inner turmoil to be seen.
~fin~
Completed: August 24, 2008