Case 4: The Babe with the Power
Dean shifted, his mind drifting up from unconsciousness. He felt really comfortable, lying on his stomach and breathing in the scent of fabric freshener in the pillow under his head. It was nice. But things felt sort of fuzzy. Dean opened his eyes a little and took in the world around him.
There was a night stand only a foot from his head. The clock on it blinked 8:32 am next to his cell phone. There was a picture sitting under a lamp of three people**, his parents...Dean thought lazily, standing outside their home in Lawrence with him in the crook of his father's arm. (**no baby Sam, Gabe has 'erased him'.)
He squinted at the picture, confused. There was something very wrong with it. He knew it.
Dean pushed himself up and frowned at the picture.
Something is missing. Dean thought. He picked at his fuzzy brain to figure it out. He took a deep breath and twisted on his back, taking in the room. It was a normal bedroom, four walls with a door leading out of the room, another to a bathroom, and a closet. A couple of dressers match the wooden frame of the bed, and the mirror on top of a vanity gave the hunter a better look at himself, the bed he was in and the wall to his back.
There was a lump in the bed next to him.
Dean's eyes narrowed and he looked over his shoulder. There were a mass of blond curls and the shoulders of a woman facing away from him. In a fleeting moment of panic, he checked himself. He wasn't naked, thank god, but he was stripped down to his usual sleeping attire: dark t-shirt and boxers. The rest of his clothes were hanging out of a hamper near the bathroom door.
Wasn't...wasn't I in a brewery? Yes. Yes I was! I was hunting a leprechaun. Dean felt some of the fuzziness leave his mind as he began to remember again. He looked around the room once more. I was with Bobby, Jo...Faith...jesus that crazy chick, and Buffy. Trickster showed up. No...he's Gabriel. A freaking archangel. He did something...to someone...who...
Dean glanced back at the woman next to him and leaned carefully over to see who it was.
Buffy Summers.
"Woah!" The hunter leaped out of the bed, his foot catching in the tangle of sheets. Dean yelped as he crashed to the floor, dragging the sheets with him in his wake.
There was a night stand only a foot from his head. The clock on it blinked 8:32 am next to his cell phone. There was a picture sitting under a lamp of three people**, his parents...Dean thought lazily, standing outside their home in Lawrence with him in the crook of his father's arm. (**no baby Sam, Gabe has 'erased him'.)
He squinted at the picture, confused. There was something very wrong with it. He knew it.
Dean pushed himself up and frowned at the picture.
Something is missing. Dean thought. He picked at his fuzzy brain to figure it out. He took a deep breath and twisted on his back, taking in the room. It was a normal bedroom, four walls with a door leading out of the room, another to a bathroom, and a closet. A couple of dressers match the wooden frame of the bed, and the mirror on top of a vanity gave the hunter a better look at himself, the bed he was in and the wall to his back.
There was a lump in the bed next to him.
Dean's eyes narrowed and he looked over his shoulder. There were a mass of blond curls and the shoulders of a woman facing away from him. In a fleeting moment of panic, he checked himself. He wasn't naked, thank god, but he was stripped down to his usual sleeping attire: dark t-shirt and boxers. The rest of his clothes were hanging out of a hamper near the bathroom door.
Wasn't...wasn't I in a brewery? Yes. Yes I was! I was hunting a leprechaun. Dean felt some of the fuzziness leave his mind as he began to remember again. He looked around the room once more. I was with Bobby, Jo...Faith...jesus that crazy chick, and Buffy. Trickster showed up. No...he's Gabriel. A freaking archangel. He did something...to someone...who...
Dean glanced back at the woman next to him and leaned carefully over to see who it was.
Buffy Summers.
"Woah!" The hunter leaped out of the bed, his foot catching in the tangle of sheets. Dean yelped as he crashed to the floor, dragging the sheets with him in his wake.