chicago ♔ subscribe me not to darkness

[principal]

♬ To Darkness - Mumford and Sons

WHO || Buffy Summers, Sam Winchester, Robin Wood [closed]
WHAT || Buffy accompanies Sam to Chicago, seeking answers about Dean's past... and the fate of the version of Sam from this world
WHERE || Chicago, USA
WHEN || Late-October [back-dated]
HOW || Actionspam

Sam Winchester has not a very easy time of this world.  

Most of the reasons for which, it seems, can be traced back to the fact that there was another Sam Winchester native to this dimension.  One who somehow managed to alienate his brother Dean to the point where he almost murdered Sam on sight, and it's been a very slow, uphill battle ever since to get Dean to say more than two non-hostile words in a row to him.

An uphill battle that's going too slowly for Sam's taste.  

Upon googling his own name and doing some research in hunter circles, he learned more and more disturbing facts - including the fact that he and Dean from this world were held responsible for the deaths of Jo & Ellen Harvelle, and Bobby Singer.  Distraught by what he'd learned, he shared the facts with his new friend, Buffy, who agreed to travel with him to Chicago tracing down one of the only leads they have on finding out more about what happened, since Dean doesn't seem inclined to share.

And so off they go to Chicago - home to some of Buffy's own demons - to check out the Hunter's bar run by Robin Wood.

Comments

[principal]

I can't say I've heard anybody drop the name. And I've been running this place a few years, trying to keep an ear to the ground on this kind of thing.

You said you ran into some other people from home. What about Rupert Giles?

[slay]

Who?

[ With a slight flutter, her expression blanks to one completely empty of recognition. ]

[principal]

[ oh.

that's... unfortunate. ] ... He was your Watcher.

[slay]

... Oh.

[ Dumbfounded, she takes a beat to find the right words. She'd had someone like that. A teacher, someone who knew what was going on with her. Guidance. All these years, she's just been stumbling through the dark, alone. (Not always alone, but right now, it feels like the dark is suffocating her, and it's not fair to her to think about Rafael when he's trying to climb out of it. But it's Chicago, and that's ...) ]

You'd think I'd remember someone like that.

[principal]

You two were definitely close. [ he looks like he's going to say more about Giles' whole... Watcher status, but that's probably a can of worms not best opened right now. ] Can I ask how long you've been here?

[slay]

Almost three years.

[ Which is probably why she looks almost identical to how she looked when he last saw her on the other side of the Veil. Equally thin, hair kept straighter. Practical. More subdued.

But she doesn't carry herself like a general. A soldier, maybe. Not a general. ]

Plenty of Slayer-ing to be done on this side of the Veil, believe me. Actually, I came here to get info on something, my — [ She stops mid-pace. ] Oh, god. Sam. [ She totally spaced. ] I completely forgot. I—My friend, he's waiting out in the bar. I've been trying to figure out some stuff about what ... happened to him, in this world. It's a whole messy, parallel universe-y, family drama-y mess, and I just wanna cut through the whole knot with craft scissors at this point, 'cause if Dean goes at him with a knife one more time —

[principal]

[ as her ramble gets away from her, he tries to keep up but man. ] Whoa, whoa. Let's uh, step back from the knife fights a second.

What are you talking about?

[slay]

My friend. The one I was trying to tell you about. He's Sam Winchester.

[principal]

Sam Winchester? ... You're sure? [ he looks abruptly tense, looking past her at the door ]

[slay]

Do we hafta revisit the attempted murder parts of this conversation?

[principal]

No, no, I follow. It's just... last I heard, he wasn't exactly among the living. [ a beat ] Not that that... seems to stop Winchesters from showing up.

[slay]

That's the thing. And … maybe you understand it, 'cause I sure don't, but he's not the same one who lived here, who all of those things happened to. [ A hapless shrug precedes her clarification: ] Sam came through the Veil just recently.

[principal]

[ if that's meant to trigger any understanding on his face, it... does not. ] Buffy, Sam Winchester was born in this world. Him and his brother both.

[slay]

I know. I know, and then something happened to that Sam, which we're still trying to figure out, and since then, we have a new one. And he's not the same one, and he came from a different world, and it's like some freaky doppel-parallel-clone mirror verse where he's not a bad guy, okay? [ All the while, she gesticulates fervently with her hands, emphatic and rambling and only breathing finally when she stops now. ] Whatever he did here, it wasn't him. [ She drops her hands, sighing. ] He's good.

[principal]

[ he listens to all that, eyebrows climbing up his face, and doesn't answer for a moment, mouth opening and then clamping shut before finally he just nods once. ] ... Ok.

[slay]

You—

[ Pause. ]

... Okay? Just like that? I just told you Sam Winchester is some double from a parallel universe and all you have to say is "okay"?

[principal]

[ he chuckles a bit ] I think you're underestimating the amount of weird Sunnydale had to throw at us.

[ he gets more serious a bit, looking at her dead-on ] But beyond that... Buffy, you're the Slayer for a reason.

Whatever else has changed, I can't imagine you'd go around making up stories about something like this.

[slay]

[ All the quirkiness and snappy comebacks, all the sharp edges and intensity, they drain away and leave Buffy stunned and speechless in the face of Robin's certainty. He makes it sound so simple, unquestionable. Like he can't imagine how else he could react to something that she's saying but to believe her—to believe in her. ]

Nobody's ever just trusted me like that before.

[ At every turn, at least one of her friends is questioning her. Questioning her motives, her control, her power, her decision-making. And she doesn't blame them—most of the time, she questions herself well before they step in, but she has to make a call. She has to be firm, or at least, something in the back of her mind tells her she does. (The Slayer tells her she does.) Even Des, bastion of support for Buffy Summers, tries to pin her.

She thinks of Spike, snapping about trying to pull Thomas out of the prison. How she'd almost gotten people killed. And then, how Thomas might still be alive if they'd raided that prison when they had the chance. ]

[principal]

[ that reaction clearly startles him, unsettles him, even, and he takes a cautious step forward, studying her, trying not to push too hard, but...

looking concerned. ] Buffy. [ his voice is gentler, quieter. ] What exactly have you been doing all this time?

[slay]

Fighting.

[ What else does she do? Every time they think it might be over, there's another fight waiting. Her shoulders slump heavily, a sudden weight on them because she doesn't deserve that faith. She finally hears it, finally gets what she didn't even know she'd been missing, and she doesn't deserve it.

She's not the Slayer; she's a murderer. She'd torn through bodies in Sarandis' castle like they were nothing. Straw. Diced them into tiny pieces and soldiered on drenched in their blood and she can feel it thick on her skin even now. ]

How did you know me? Not about the Slayer, not because of your mother. Me. What was I to you?

[ What was she that he could have that kind of unwavering belief? ]

[principal]

[ her emotional reaction throws him enough that his answer isn't well thought out, really. just the very thing that pops into his head. ]

... Your sister's high school principal, at first.

[slay]

[ Confusion cuts through her distress. Her brow furrows, but she dismisses the obvious question: how does a principal turn into a bartender? ]

And then?

[principal]

Well, then your boss. I think the date came after that.

[slay]

[ crickets. ]

I ... dated my boss?

[principal]

[ he chuckles in spite of himself ] It's... not what you're thinking.

Probably.

I think you thought I was evil.